Chapter 73: Poor Haki Tian, He Had No Idea What His Words Truly Meant

Dawn broke cold and quiet—until a sudden earthquake shattered the stillness.

Chen Kong jolted awake, heart pounding, and bolted downstairs in a panic.

When he reached the living room, he froze mid-step, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Wait… Tian Dao, dude, who the hell was that brutal? Did someone actually break your hand?”

“And—what the heck was that earthquake just now? Was it caused by him?!”

Before him, Tian Dao sat on the sofa, his right arm wrapped tightly in bandages, immobilized by Kalolin’s firm grip. She was now patiently spoon-feeding him congee, her expression unwavering, while Tian Dao twisted his face into a grimace of pure resistance—like a cat desperately resisting a nail trim.

Despite his protests, he had no choice. Kalolin’s strength was absolute.

Chen Kong stepped forward, curiosity piqued, his gaze fixed on the injured hand.

He’d known Tian Dao since day one—and not once had he ever seen him so much as scraped. Not a bruise, not a scratch. The man was practically invincible.

But now, this… this was different.

Noticing Chen Kong’s stare, Tian Dao instantly saw an opening—his chance to crack a joke, to tease the innocent younger brother. He opened his mouth, ready with a sly remark.

Then he caught Kalolin’s sharp, warning glance.

His smirk faltered.

With a sigh, he swallowed the playful words and answered honestly.

“There’s no powerful enemy, Kong.”

“Neither the earthquake nor my injury came from an outside force. It was the result of a new technique I just attempted.”

“Wait—what? A new technique? That’s what caused all this? And you’re hurt?!”

Before Tian Dao could elaborate, Kalolin cut in, her voice calm, cool, almost indifferent.

“Kong, don’t disturb the patient. Go check the backyard yourself.”

“Okay!” Chen Kong nodded, then dashed outside.

When he stepped into the yard, the sight that greeted him was staggering.

A massive, deep crater marred the grass—one that looked like it had been punched into the earth by a force of pure destruction.

And there, crouched beside it, was Chen Xing, meticulously examining the edges of the hole.

Chen Kong approached silently, copying her posture, studying the crater with the same intensity.

After several long minutes, he shook his head, frustrated.

“Sis… did you see anything?”

Chen Xing exhaled slowly, her tone heavy with unease.

“No trace of Star Energy. That means Tian Dao’s technique wasn’t an outward blast. It was a close-range, body-based move.”

“Otherwise, there’d be residue. There’s nothing.”

She looked up, eyes narrowing.

“Just the aftermath of one strike… and it created this.”

She turned to her brother, voice barely above a whisper.

“Kong… Tian Dao’s gotten stronger.”

Chen Kong stared at his sister—kneeling there, face set in silent frustration, as if she’d just lost something irreplaceable.

After a pause, he scratched his cheek, hesitant.

“Uh… sis… isn’t it normal? Tian Dao’s always been strong. So what’s so strange about him getting even stronger?”

Chen Xing blinked.

Then, slowly, she nodded.

“If it were anyone else… no, it wouldn’t be strange at all.”

But her expression didn’t ease.

She turned back toward the glass window, staring into the living room.

Her gaze locked onto Tian Dao—being fed like a child by Kalolin.

Even his body obeyed, but his face screamed no—a silent war between pride and helplessness.

“I just… didn’t expect the gap between us to grow so fast again,” she murmured, voice low.

Chen Kong watched his sister’s distant look—then glanced at Tian Dao, trapped in the moment, refusing the spoon, yet accepting the food.

He sighed.

“Sis… why do you keep comparing yourself to Tian Dao?”

“Come on. According to Doctor, all 35 of us combined couldn’t match Tian Dao alone.”

“If you keep thinking like this… I’m worried you’ll only hurt yourself.”

“You don’t understand.”

Before he could finish, Chen Xing cut him off sharply.

She turned to him, her crimson eyes blazing—fierce, unyielding.

“Kong. Defeating a god is important. But even more important is having the courage to challenge one.”

She paused, then added softly, “Besides…”

“Besides what?”

Chen Kong leaned in, eyes wide.

“Nothing.”

She shook her head, refusing to say more.

But the truth? It was tangled.

The reason she pushed so hard to catch up to Tian Dao wasn’t just pride.

It wasn’t just competition.

It was because… she had been the first.

She’d met him first.

And yet—Tian Dao’s eyes had never once lingered on her.

Only on Kalolin.

She believed, deep down, that she wasn’t close enough.

That if she could get close enough—close enough to stand between him and everyone else… then, finally, he’d see her.

Only her.

And she’d never tell anyone that.

Not even her brother.

Because if people knew she pushed so hard… just to earn his recognition…

They’d call her weak. Insecure. A shadow chasing a light.

She wouldn’t let them see her that way.

But… even she didn’t realize the deeper reason she kept this secret.

It wasn’t just fear of judgment.

It was also the quiet dread of what might happen if he found out.

If the forgetful one—Haki Tian—learned the truth?

He might pull away.

And if the sharp-eyed one—Kalolin—found out?

She’d step in. Stop her before she even began.

So she buried it.

Locked it away.

And vowed to keep it hidden—until the day it was no longer a secret.

---

Meanwhile, inside the living room, Tian Dao tilted his head, watching Kalolin’s distant gaze.

“Kalolin… why have you been staring out the window this whole time?”

She turned suddenly, and—without warning—smiled.

A slow, quiet, perfect smile.

Tian Dao froze.

Not because it was warm.

But because he knew this smile.

Kalolin rarely smiled.

And when she did?

There were only two reasons.

One: she was happy.

Two: she was not happy.

And this one… wasn’t the first.

This was the other kind.

The kind that meant trouble.

His mind raced.

Did I do something wrong? Did I mess up again?

He couldn’t remember.

So he did what he always did when in doubt.

He activated his default defense protocol.

The Apology Formula.

No matter what, say you’re sorry.

But before he could even begin, Kalolin spoke.

“Tian Dao… suppose there’s someone who knows what she’s doing is wrong. Yet… she still can’t stop thinking about your favorite toy. She keeps looking for a way to steal it.”

She paused, eyes locked on his.

“What would you do?”

Tian Dao didn’t hesitate.

“I’d teach her a lesson.”

“Seriously. That’s my toy. Who does she think she is?”

“Even if she didn’t take it—just thinking about it? That’s enough to deserve a good beating.”

“Is that so…”

Kalolin’s smile widened.

And this time—Tian Dao felt it.

This wasn’t anger.

This was joy.

Huh?

Did I just… win?

He blinked, confused.

Why is she smiling like that?

Kalolin, for the first time, found herself grateful for Tian Dao’s laziness.

Because if he were smart, if he actually thought about it…

He’d see the trap.

He’d know what he’d just agreed to.

But he didn’t.

And that was perfect.

She could use this.

She could build on it.

This was too good a chance to pass up.

So she leaned down, her electronic cat ears twitching—subtle, guilty, exposed.

Tian Dao noticed.

But he didn’t understand why.

And she didn’t give him time.

Softly, almost shyly, she whispered:

“Tian Dao… if you really believe that, then… does that mean you’ll always stand by me… if something like that ever happens again?”

Tian Dao thought for a second.

Nothing felt off.

So he nodded, grinning.

“Of course! We’re best partners, right?”

“My toy is yours. Anyone who tries to steal it? They’re stealing from me. They’re challenging me.”

“Don’t even worry about standing beside me. Just stay back. I’ll handle the guy who thinks he can mess with my stuff.”

“Really?”

Kalolin looked up, eyes wide with sudden, dazzling hope.

And Tian Dao—suddenly—felt a chill.

Wait…

Did I just… fall into a trap?

Haki Tian—brilliant, observant, always aware—had felt it.

The setup.

The bait.

The trap.

But trust—absolute, unshakable trust—in Kalolin.

And guilt—over the upcoming, brutal arc he’d forced her into.

So he silenced his instincts.

He ignored the warning.

And with a grin, he leapt—straight into the Language Trap she’d woven so carefully.

“Don’t worry. It’s real.”

Kalolin’s smile bloomed.

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

“Settled.”

---

Outside, the Dimensional Audience watched in silent awe.

Poor Haki Tian… he has no idea what he just agreed to.

You know, if you’d use even one percent of your genius from Stellar Source on your social life… you wouldn’t have just signed your own doom.

But honestly… I can’t blame you. The way Kalolin played you? Masterclass. Bravo, my fellow Tian-Kalolin Faction member.

Ugh, Star—can you please stop obsessing over your silly little chase game? Everyone else is already using tactics! If you don’t step up, our Tian-Xing Faction might never get a chance!

So bitter… so bitter… I can taste the envy!

Oh, shut up, you Tian-Kalolin fans! This is just 1.0. Wait till 2.0 drops. Then maybe your little princess gets a power-up. And then you’ll cry.

HAHA! Power up Star? That’s the funniest joke I’ve heard all week. (Keep this quote. It’s legendary.)

Wait… you! You’re gonna regret this. Just you wait. When I get my hands on you… I’ll bury you with a Luoyang shovel.

Haha! Oh wow, someone’s panicking!

---

End of Chapter

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end