After feeling satisfied with his visit to the Gu Realm, Xiao Hua finally departed together with Xun Er and returned to the Moonlit Chaos Mansion. Before leaving, he left a message behind—when Xiao Yan came to enter the Heavenly Tomb in the future, he hoped the Gu Clan would not treat him harshly.
Upon arriving back at the mansion, Xiao Hua and Xun Er went straight to their residence. After spending a short time together, Xun Er soon entered secluded cultivation to break through to the Dou Sheng class.
In the quiet front courtyard, Xiao Hua sat quietly beside Ya Fei, the two of them sipping tea as their gazes rested on Xiao Yuyan playing nearby.
"Xun'er, Cai'er, and Xian'er have all entered seclusion… Even Yan Xiaoyu and Qing Lin have gone out on a mission together with Su Yuexin and Lan Haoran," Xiao Hua murmured, his tone soft and faintly wistful.
"Fu fu… who would have thought you could be this sentimental," Ya Fei teased gently, her bewitching voice carrying a warmth that could stir the heart.
"It can't be helped," Xiao Hua replied with a light sigh, his tone half-complaint yet tinged with affection. "It's been months since I returned from the Gu Clan, and I've been buried in managing affairs. Though I admit that it is quite a waste of time aside from acknowledging my father-in-law and bonding with the Gu Clan."
"When I wasn't doing the management affairs, I was guiding Yan Xiaoyu… or spending time with my future wives and my little Yuyan. Now, with everyone away, the mansion feels strangely quiet… and I find myself a little melancholic."
A faint smile tugged at his lips as he added softly, "Fortunately, I still have you by my side. Otherwise, I would truly feel lonely… and unbearably bored."
"I'm also planning to enter a retreat soon," Ya Fei said with a faint smile. "You've already learned much from my lessons in management. Even in my absence, I doubt anything could stump you now."
She paused for a moment, then seemed to recall something.
"But… what about Lady Azure and Lady Xue Yue? Are they not around?" she asked curiously.
"That's right… you were away in Clear Moon City during that time," Xiao Hua replied. He raised a brow in brief confusion before a look of realization crossed his face, and he gave a faint smile.
He then explained that Lady Azure and Lady Xue Yue were currently attempting to carefully tear open the barrier that separated the Dou Qi Continent from the outside world—though they also intended to mend it afterward.
It was necessary, for he could only advance to Dou Di after unlocking the second level of the Chaos Mantra, known as the Heavenly Chaos Cultivation Spiritual Art.
Though momentarily speechless, Ya Fei quietly accepted their absence, understanding the reason behind it. In this tranquil moment, she simply leaned against Xiao Hua's shoulder, basking in his warmth.
Naturally, Xiao Hua welcomed her closeness. He wrapped an arm gently around her slender waist, drawing her nearer. As she nestled softly against him, a faint and alluring fragrance rose from her, stirring his heart.
They remained like this for a long while—savoring the silence, the warmth, and the soft, joyful laughter of a little girl nearby. The serene atmosphere lingered for several hours… until it was finally broken by the approach of two familiar auras swiftly drawing near.
"Teacher. Madam Ya Fei. Our apologies for disturbing you."
Upon arriving before the two, Yan Xiaoyu and Qing Lin froze for a moment, clearly startled to find the two enjoying such a quiet moment together. They quickly cupped their hands in greeting, apologizing with flustered expressions.
Xiao Hua shook his head with a faint, helpless smile, while Ya Fei let out a soft, alluring giggle. The two welcomed them back warmly, reassuring them that they had not disturbed anything.
"Older Sister Qing Lin, Older Sister Xiaoyu—welcome back!" Xiao Yuyan called out with a bright smile, dashing toward them with joyful energy.
Qing Lin and Yan Xiaoyu immediately swept the little girl into their arms, poking her soft cheeks playfully as she laughed in delight.
After a while, Yan Xiaoyu's expression grew hesitant. She gently set Xiao Yuyan down, then turned to Xiao Hua.
"Teacher… I have something to report. I… nearly caused the death of my team. I brought them trouble." Her voice was soft, tinged with guilt and regret.
Qing Lin flinched slightly, immediately realizing what incident she was referring to. She was about to speak in comfort, but Xiao Hua quietly raised his hand, stopping her.
"When we were fighting," Yan Xiaoyu continued, lowering her gaze, "my spear suddenly disappeared… it couldn't even produce a trace of spear intent. Because of that, Senior Sister Su Yuexin suffered a severe injury to protect me, and the target to escape…"
"Follow me."
Xiao Hua's sigh was light, like the whisper of wind upon water. Seeing the heaviness clouding his student's heart, he turned and walked ahead. Without protest, Yan Xiaoyu followed, her expression shadowed by quiet gloom, yet her steps never wavering.
…
After leaving his residence, Xiao Hua brought Yan Xiaoyu to a secluded corner of the lake where a grove of bamboo stood, a place he had quietly shaped for her training.
Mist curled low around the bamboo stalks, the air thick with dew. A faint, sharp spear intent lingered amidst the quiet, pricking the skin like hidden thorns. Beneath that stillness smoldered traces of heat and crackling static—evidence of her tireless struggle to temper not only her spear, but her fire and lightning as well.
Upon reaching the grove, Xiao Hua stopped and glanced at her.
"Sit." he instructed.
Though confusion flickered in her eyes, Yan Xiaoyu obeyed without a word. She settled cross-legged upon a smooth stone, her breathing calm, her slender hands resting upon her knees.
"You do not need to answer me," Xiao Hua murmured, his tone as gentle as moonlight. "Just listen. No matter what you feel… do not move."
He paused by one of the bamboo stalks, gently running his fingers over its scarred surface—each cut a silent testament to her relentless training. Then, his calm voice rose again, weaving through the mist.
"What is a spear? Is its essence confined to its shaft and tip? I do not agree. Some claim the spear bears ten thousand transformations. Others argue it has only thirteen—thrust, pierce, sweep, smash, hook, pick, spin, flick, coil, block, break, parry, stab. Yet these are but illusions of form."
His words resonated like distant thunder. Yan Xiaoyu's heart clenched as a pressure swept over her—a presence vast and unyielding, like a divine spear standing upright between heaven and earth. Its edge seemed to pierce through her flesh, her spirit, even her soul.
"If the spear becomes fixed, it ceases to be a path. The path is boundless—how can it be confined to merely thirteen moves?"
Yan Xiaoyu understood that Xiao Hua was speaking of the fundamentals. She did not dare allow even a single stray thought to arise, and instead focused with her entire heart and soul, her mind clear as still water.
Xiao Hua paced slowly through the bamboo grove, each step falling as though an immortal descended upon the mortal world. With every pace, the pressure around her grew heavier, like invisible waves pressing down from all directions. Yet his voice remained calm and steady, resonant as if echoing from the depths of the firmament.
Then, suddenly, his words became spears themselves—piercing straight into her ears, her mind, her heart:
"Spear—why can it not be sound that shakes the firmament? Why can it not be light that cleaves through darkness? Why can it not be color that paints the heavens? Why can it not be a gaze that pierces all illusions?"
In that moment, even with her eyes closed, she felt his gaze upon her—sharp, penetrating, all-encompassing.
It was as though countless spears were leveled at her throat—unyielding, unstoppable, indomitable.
Her body trembled. Instinct screamed at her to open her eyes and raise her spear in defense.
Yet she remembered his words: Do not move.
And so, she endured.
Xiao Hua's steps did not stop. Sometimes his voice came from her left, other times from her right, as though he walked the very air around her.
"Your intent faltered because you were impatient," Xiao Hua said, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of a blade drawn halfway from its sheath. "You rushed forward, grasping for the next realm before the ground beneath your feet had settled. The roots—the spirit—of your spear intent remain blurred and indistinct, unable to even form a solid shape, yet you tried to force it to bloom.
Tell me… how can a tree bear fruit when its roots have yet to take hold?"
Yan Xiaoyu bit her lower lip until it turned pale, but no words came. She understood.
"You sought to seize a realm that had not yet ripened," Xiao Hua continued, his tone like iron wrapped in silk. "Forcing comprehension does not temper intent—it makes it brittle. On the battlefield, that brittleness shattered. And when you needed it most… your spear had nothing to lean upon."
Her lips parted as if to speak, but only silence escaped. Her shoulders trembled beneath the weight of shame. "So… it was my impatience that caused this."
"Impatience," Xiao Hua murmured, his voice soft as falling rain, "is the snare that has dragged countless brilliant geniuses to their ruin. With a hollow foundation, how can one's cultivation stand firm, unshakable against the winds of the world?"
His gaze steadied on her, unwavering. "It is the same with the spear. The spear is not about rushing forward—it is about never retreating. A true thrust is unyielding because it carries the entirety of one's will—steady, absolute. If your heart falters, your spear falters. If your will wavers, your intent scatters like dust."
He stepped closer then, his presence vast yet tranquil, like a boundless sea under a silent sky. "Do not blame yourself. This path has broken many before you. Your fault was not in faltering… it was in trying to fly before you had learned to stand."
Yan Xiaoyu's body trembled, her heart quivering as though struck by a bell. She bit her lip once more, then bowed deeply, her voice hoarse yet resolute.
"Teacher… please guide me. I will not repeat this mistake again."
Xiao Hua finally allowed a faint smile to touch his lips—neither warm nor cold, but steady as an unsheathed spear. Relief flickered in his gaze. His student had finally set down her burden of guilt and regret. Had she clung to such emotions, her path would only grow brittle and frail.
He turned, his back straight as a spear, and spoke in a deep voice that brooked no doubt.
"As for Su Yuexin… apologize to her sincerely and bring her a few thoughtful gifts. As for revenge—discard such notions. Once Sister Li Mei learns of this matter, she will hunt the one who harmed her disciple to the ends of the world."
"I understand. Thank you, Master."
Yan Xiaoyu opened her eyes and rose to her feet. She cupped her hands, a smile blooming faintly on her lips.
Xiao Hua gave a small nod, the corners of his mouth softening. Though his appearance was youthful, he had endured countless reincarnations beneath the Bodhisattva Ancient Tree and lived an entire lifetime in Earth. Offering guidance came as naturally to him as breathing—just as it does to those who have weathered the bleak winds of life and seen the follies of youth repeat across the ages.
…
Yan Xiaoyu departed soon after, heading toward the Spiritual Holy Island—one of the Eight Great Islands of the Chaos Realm, and the seat of the Purity Sky Hall—to personally offer her apologies to Su Yuexin.
She remained there for some time, speaking earnestly with Su Yuexin, who received her with warmth. It was clear that she bore no resentment, and before long, the two were chatting and laughing as though no shadow had ever stood between them.
When Yan Xiaoyu departed for where Xiao Hua is at, a furious roar suddenly shook the skies—the voice of Li Mei—before she vanished beyond the bounds of the Chaos Realm.
Those who heard merely sighed and returned to their duties. Those unaware of the matter soon learned the cause of her wrath, and upon hearing it, they only nodded in silent understanding.
…
After returning, Yan Xiaoyu devoted herself to training under Xiao Hua's watchful gaze. Days turned into months as their routine became unbroken.
At times, their spears clashed fiercely, the air trembling with sharp intent. At times, Xiao Hua would forbid her from using the spear, commanding her to attack with bare hands or Dou Techniques arts, tempering her control over flame, lightning, and Dou Qi. And at times, they would simply rest—sharing quiet moments with Ya Fei, laughing softly as they played with little Xiao Yuyan by the lakeside.
Today, however, Xiao Hua had instructed her to attack with everything she possessed. After an intense bout, Yan Xiaoyu collapsed onto the lake's surface, chest heaving, her sweat scattering into ripples that shimmered under the sunlight.
"You once asked me why the spirit of your intent remains indistinct, did you not?" Xiao Hua spoke suddenly, his tone calm yet carrying a trace of warmth as he looked down at his exhausted disciple.
"I thought you said I shouldn't be too hasty…" Yan Xiaoyu steadied her breath, raising her brows in faint confusion at his sudden question.
"Indeed," Xiao Hua replied lightly, the corners of his lips curving. "But now that your heart has cleared and you've tempered yourself through countless battles… you stand on the threshold. I might as well give you some guidance."
Then, his gaze drifted toward the distant horizon, and he murmured softly, almost to himself, "Besides… I will soon be occupied with other matters."
Yan Xiaoyu blinked at her master's words, curiosity stirring in her eyes, but she wisely held her tongue.
"The answer to your question is simple," Xiao Hua said, his voice warm yet cutting like a blade wrapped in silk. "You are too attached to the shape of the spear…"
"A spear is not steel and wood. It is principle. It is the will that pierces. The form matters not. Pebble, leaf, wind, even a fleeting glance—if they carry your intent, they can all become spears."
"Intent does not dwell in the weapon. The spear is merely a vessel—you are the edge. If your will is sharp, your spear will pierce mountains. If your will falters, even a child could parry you. Remember this—without intent, your spear is nothing more than a stick. With intent… even a falling leaf in your hand becomes a god-slaying weapon."
Xiao Hua's steps slowed. The faint smile on his lips faded, replaced by solemn gravity.
"You must dissolve the boundaries of what a spear is—make it formless—so that it ceases to be an object and becomes a principle. Only then can that principle be embodied through your heart… and walk upon your path."
"I see…" Yan Xiaoyu whispered, her eyes widening as sudden realization struck her. She understood now why her spear intent could not awaken and give birth to its Spirit. Bound by the notion of "a stick with a tip," her intent could not breathe; it remained a lifeless object.
Only by dissolving the thought that "a spear must be wood and steel" could she allow her spear intent to reveal its pure essence—piercing, persistent, far-reaching, inevitable. From this distilled principle, the spear intent could finally grow strong enough to be nurtured into life.
"Hence, to advance to the second level, you must forget the shape of the spear," Xiao Hua continued. "The spear can be light, it can be sound, it can be color, it can be sight. It does not require a fixed form. It can be long or short, rigid or supple, straight as a heavenly pillar or coiled like a dragon's spine—it may strike from any angle. When you forget the shape of the spear, only then are you qualified to step upon the second level of spear intent… and condense a true Spirit, rather than a hollow shadow."
"I understand, Teacher." Yan Xiaoyu nodded solemnly.
Xiao Hua turned, his voice low yet resonant as a temple bell.
"Every path bears a soul. The sword has sword spirit, the zither has sound spirit. The spear too must awaken its spirit—or else it remains nothing but cold steel and scattered qi.
Intent is the will—the shape of thought. Spirit is life—the animation of that thought into being. Without intent, there is no guiding principle. Without spirit, there is no living continuation.
Together, they form the bridge: Intent is the cause… and Spirit is the blossoming effect."
As Xiao Hua spoke, he merely lifted his hand, a faint smile lingering on his lips.
A resonant roar swept through the mountain like a divine decree. Behind him, an immense shadow surged forth—an azure dragon, translucent yet majestic, its boundless form woven entirely from spear-light. Its scales shimmered with ancient runes, each scale like a spear tip poised to pierce the heavens, each exhaled breath like a thrust tearing the clouds asunder.
The colossal azure dragon coiled lazily through the air. Though silent, its mere existence suffused the world around it with an ineffable might—its presence alone demanded reverence.
Yan Xiaoyu trembled, as though her very soul was being scrutinized beneath the dragon's gaze. She had witnessed her teacher's spear spirit once before during the trial… yet this was entirely different—immeasurably so.
If she had to describe the disparity, it was like comparing a child's drawing of a dragon to standing before a living one. She never imagined that what she had seen during the trial was merely a hollow echo—an incomplete projection that her teacher had formed casually, without a shred of his true intent.
But now… she understood.
What she beheld before her was not just power—it was revelation.
Her teacher's depth was beyond fathoming, able to create even false intents of such vivid clarity, yet still hold his true will concealed, untouched, and immeasurable.
"When your Spirit of the Spear Intent completes its formation, you will come to understand—its first awakening is like the birth of a newborn. Do not mistake it for a mere phantom, for this is your will given life. Where it soars, your spear intent shall follow. Where it strikes, even heaven and earth must yield. It will grow as you grow, and forever walk at your side."
Xiao Hua gazed at the azure dragon with a faint smile before turning away. "Remember these words," he said softly.
Then his figure blurred and quietly vanished into the distance. As he departed, the colossal azure dragon gradually dissolved into motes of spear-light, leaving Yan Xiaoyun standing alone amidst the whispering bamboo.
The young lady clenched her fists, her heart pounding like a war drum. For the first time, she truly understood—the spear was no longer just a weapon. It was alive. It was a Spirit of Spear Intent.
In that moment, her world seemed to widen without end. She could not help but wonder what form her own spirit would take. Would it be an immortal phoenix blazing across the skies? Or perhaps a graceful luan dancing upon drifting clouds? Whatever it might be, her heart trembled with anticipation. She could not wait for the day her own Spear Intent would awaken and take form.
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