Under Mang Tian's critical eye, Yao Xuan and Tang Wulin practiced the fundamental stances of forging. The master blacksmith moved between them, a mountain of a man offering gruff, precise corrections. "Your feet are too close, boy! You need a foundation, not a tightrope!" he'd bark at Tang Wulin, repositioning his stance with a firm hand. To Yao Xuan, he pointed out finer details: "The power comes from the twist of your hips, not just your arms. You're strong, but don't waste energy."
For Yao Xuan, with his [Enhanced Comprehension], each correction was a key turning a lock. His body adjusted almost instantly, embodying the principles Mang Tian demonstrated. Beside him, Tang Wulin, though slower, showed a natural, instinctual grasp for the craft, his movements becoming more fluid with each attempt. Watching them, a rare, deep satisfaction settled in Mang Tian's chest. The future of his craft, once a worry, now stood before him in the forms of these two determined boys.
"Enough," Mang Tian announced, his voice cutting through the sound of their practice. He glanced at the soot-stained clock on the wall. "It's 7:30. You can go. Be here tomorrow before 5:30 PM. Your tasks await. Finish them and you may leave, or stay longer if you have the will."
"Goodbye, Teacher!" they chorused, bowing respectfully before heading out into the cool evening air.
Walking home through the lamplit streets, Yao Xuan took stock of his condition. The deep ache in his muscles was already fading, soothed by the combined effects of the ointment and the restless Ancestral Dragon power within him. He flexed his hands, feeling a new, solid strength there.
'Forging doesn't just temper metal; it tempers me,' he realized with a surge of satisfaction. The violent exertion had acted as a catalyst, forcing his body to absorb more of the dormant dragon power. It was a slow, arduous path to integration, but every step counted.
Soon, he stood before the familiar apartment door. He hadn't even raised his hand to knock before the door swung inward, revealing a small, silver-haired figure. Na'er's amethyst eyes, usually so calm, were lit with a bright, eager light.
"Brother Yao Xuan! You're back!" Her voice was a soft, happy chime in the quiet hallway.
The simple, heartfelt greeting warmed him more than any forge fire. "I'm back, Na'er," he said, his smile effortless as he reached out to gently ruffle her soft hair.
From within the apartment, Lin Ximeng's voice called out, layered with concern. "Yao Xuan? How did it go? Was the assessment alright?"
He stepped inside, Na'er clinging to his side. "It went better than I could have hoped, Mom," he reported, his voice filled with genuine triumph. "Master Mang Tian accepted me. He's going to teach me himself. I'll be going to the studio for two hours every day after school from now on."
"He accepted you?" Lin Ximeng emerged from the kitchen, her face breaking into a radiant smile. "Oh, that's wonderful news! I'm so proud of you!" As a Soul Master, she understood the prestige of a Level 6 Blacksmith Master far better than most. This was no small achievement. "Come, come, let's eat! Dinner is ready."
"You... you haven't eaten yet?" Yao Xuan asked, a pang of guilt mixing with his surprise.
"I was going to let Na'er start," Lin Ximeng explained as she brought the warm dishes to the table, the savory aroma filling the small space. "But she insisted. She refused to take a single bite until you came home."
Yao Xuan looked down at the little girl still holding onto his arm. Her loyalty, so pure and unshakeable, struck a deep chord within him.
"Thank you for waiting for me, Na'er," he said, his voice thick with a sincerity that needed no embellishment.
Na'er looked up, her gaze clear and direct. "Being near Brother Yao Xuan feels safe. It feels like... coming home," she stated, as if explaining a fundamental law of the universe. "I want to eat with Brother Yao Xuan. I want to be with Brother Yao Xuan."
His heart felt full to bursting. "And I'm happiest when I'm with you, Na'er," he replied, meaning every word. "You must be starving. Let's eat."
The rest of the evening passed in a warm, comfortable haze. The next day was for academic classes, and Yao Xuan arrived at the classroom early. He didn't have to wait long.
"Good morning, Brother Xuan!" Tang Wulin bounded up to him, his face alight with enthusiasm. "You were incredible yesterday! Not just your strength, but the way you understand cultivation... and your forging talent is unbelievable!" For reasons he couldn't explain, he felt an innate kinship with Yao Xuan, a comfort in his presence that made him feel both energized and at peace.
"You're too kind, Wulin. I just have a bit of a head start," Yao Xuan deflected modestly. "By the way, how's your arm? The soreness is gone, I hope? We have an even bigger task waiting for us today."
"It's much better!" Tang Wulin exclaimed, flexing his arm excitedly. "It actually feels stronger than before! That ointment Teacher Mang Tian gave us must be really special stuff!" They chatted amiably until the school bell rang, signaling the start of class.
Their teacher, a middle-aged man with black-rimmed glasses, began his lesson on basic Douluo history. The material was elementary, and for Yao Xuan with his enhanced mind, it required only a sliver of his attention. Seizing the opportunity, he turned his focus inward, to the hum of the system and the sixteen Golden Evolution Points burning a hole in his metaphorical pocket.
'Confirm,' he thought, his resolve firm.
The points vanished. Instantly, a torrent of pure, primordial energy flooded his meridians. It was more intense than before, a cascade of power that made his blood sing. Deep within his cells, intricate, nine-colored runes flickered into being, spun from the very essence of creation, and then dissolved, merging with his genetic code. A faint, multicolored luminescence—invisible to any observer—shimmered just above his skin for a fleeting moment. He felt a profound, internal warmth, as if he were sitting in the heart of a benevolent star. His Ancestral Dragon bloodline, now at the 2% threshold, seemed to awaken more fully, humming with latent authority. His cells drank greedily from this wellspring of power, becoming more resilient, more vibrant, their potential expanding exponentially.
Across the classroom, Tang Wulin, who had been taking notes, suddenly paused. His pen stilled as a strange, comforting warmth brushed against his senses. It was faint, like a distant melody, but it resonated with something deep and ancient within his own blood. He glanced sideways at Yao Xuan, who looked as calm and attentive as ever.
'That's weird,' Tang Wulin thought, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. 'For a second, it felt like Brother Xuan was... glowing? And it felt so familiar. Like something I knew in a dream.' He shook his head slightly, unable to grasp the elusive feeling, and forced his attention back to the teacher's droning voice, the strange sensation lingering like a pleasant aftertaste he couldn't identify.