The silver moonlight of the Tianqian Territory was not enough to mask the most distinctive feature in the courtyard—a "shiny bald head" that caught the light like a polished orb of gold.
Qian Gu Zhangting stood in the shadows of the banquet hall, his eyes narrowing. In his memories of the future, that bald head belonged to a man of legendary proportions: Aruheng. In the original timeline, Aruheng was the eldest disciple of Mu Ye and the senior brother to Tang Wulin, eventually attaining the pinnacle of the Innate Secret Technique—the Flawless Golden Body. He was destined to be the most powerful Body Douluo in a thousand years.
But now, the timeline was a fractured mirror. Zhangting had usurped that position as the first disciple of the Spirit Pagoda-Body Sect alliance.
Let's see if the 'Senior Brother' of destiny has the spine to match his legend, Zhangting thought, stepping out from the darkness.
A group of children, all under the age of six and yet to awaken their martial souls, were huddled near the "Chu River and Han Border"—the dividing line between the grassy lawn and the stone floor of the elite banquet. They were a pack of hungry wolves in training, their eyes fixed on the steaming platters of jade shrimp and earthworm tendons.
"Junior brothers," Zhangting said, his voice soft but carrying a terrifying weight, "I recall the elders explicitly forbade disciples from approaching the foreign guest banquet."
The effect was instantaneous. It was the voice of a dean catching students skipping class. The children froze; some shrunk their necks, others began rubbing their feet against the turf, preparing to vanish into the night.
Only the bald-headed boy in the front remained steady. He tilted his head, his gaze darting toward the distant elders to ensure they hadn't been spotted, then turned to Zhangting with a defiant calmness.
"My name is Aruheng," the boy replied. "I'm from the Sect Leader's lineage." He gestured to the others, introducing them with a quick, practiced efficiency. "And we didn't cross the line, Senior Brother. See?"
He pointed to the ground. They were precisely one inch away from the hard surface of the banquet floor. It was a lawyer's defense, executed with a child's mischievous grin.
Zhangting nodded, hiding his amusement. "You're here for the food, aren't you?"
The sound of ten children swallowing in unison was the only answer he needed.
"The side hall," Zhangting whispered, leaning in as if sharing a state secret. "The chefs have already started the secondary banquet for the staff. It's safe. And if you get caught... tell them I sent you. Pin the blame on me."
The children's eyes widened. A thumbs-up was passed down the line—the universal gesture of "Big Brother's Righteousness."
"Wait," Aruheng asked, scratching his shiny scalp. "Who are you? Why are you allowed to walk wherever you want?"
"My name is Qian Gu Zhangting," he replied, a faint, sharp smile playing on his lips. "I am a foreign guest, a disciple of the Tower, and soon, your fellow sect brother. But if you don't move now, the red jade shrimp will be gone."
The pack erupted. Led by Aruheng, the children sprinted toward the cafeteria with a stealthy, rhythmic grace that spoke volumes of the Body Sect's foundational training.
Zhangting watched them go, shaking his head. Even the legendary Aruheng wasn't immune to the allure of a free feast. Inside the cafeteria, the "operation" was swift. When they emerged, they were covered in ingredients. Aruheng, despite his small stature, was lugging a slab of beef twice his size, his muscles rippling under his skin like coiled snakes.
They vanished into the woods, heading for a secluded clearing far from the watchful eyes of the "Dean of Students."
"Are the elders really that terrifying?" Zhangting murmured to the empty air. He looked at the discarded bones and raw meat they had snatched. "And do they really think it tastes good without seasoning?"
Chapter 16: The Seed of Inheritance
Zhangting didn't follow them immediately. Instead, he raided the kitchen's spice rack, tucking jars of sea salt, crushed phoenix-pepper, and honey into his robes.
He tracked them through the forest. Even without their martial souls, these children moved with a steady, rhythmic breath—a sign of the Body Sect's deep-rooted body-refining methods. If the foundation is this strong at five years old, Zhangting mused, it's no wonder they produce monsters.
He found them in a moonlit clearing, huddled around a fledgling fire. The scent of charring meat began to rise, but it was the smell of burnt, unseasoned flesh. The children were salivating, their eyes fixed on the roast with primal hunger.
Aruheng suddenly paused, his bald head swiveling as he sniffed the air.
"What is it, Brother Aruheng?" one of the younger boys asked. "Is it the elders?"
"No," Aruheng grunted, his eyes searching the treeline. "It's that Senior Brother. The one with the scary eyes. I can't find him."
"Looking for me?"
Zhangting stepped into the firelight. He didn't wait for an invitation. He knelt by the fire, pulled out the bottles of seasoning, and began to expertly coat the slab of beef. The sizzle changed tone, and an intoxicating, spicy-sweet aroma exploded in the clearing.
The children gathered around him, their fear replaced by a hypnotic fascination.
"Listen closely, Aruheng," Zhangting said, his voice dropping to a low hum as he turned the meat. "The Body Sect teaches you how to make your skin like iron and your bones like diamond. But they don't teach you the most important part of being a 'Mortal God'."
Aruheng leaned in, the firelight dancing on his shiny head. "What's that?"
"The heart," Zhangting said, looking the boy directly in the eye. "A body without a cold, calculating heart is just a bigger target for a cleverer man."
He sliced a piece of the perfectly seasoned beef and handed it to Aruheng. The boy took a bite, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"This... this is amazing!" Aruheng yelled, his mouth full. "Senior Brother, you're a genius!"
Zhangting watched them eat, a dark satisfaction blooming in his chest. He wasn't just feeding them; he was planting seeds. In a few years, these children would be the backbone of the Body Sect, and they would remember the "Righteous Big Brother" who fed them and taught them that power required more than just muscle.
Suddenly, the air in the clearing grew still. The laughter of the children died away as a shadow stretched across the fire.
"It seems my new disciple is quite the popular chef," a deep, resonant voice echoed through the trees.
Mu Ye stood at the edge of the clearing, his arms crossed, his presence like a mountain looming over them. The children scrambled to their feet, faces pale, but Zhangting remained seated, calmly flipping another slice of meat.
"A good teacher provides the knowledge," Zhangting said, not looking up. "A good senior brother provides the salt."
Mu Ye walked forward, his eyes landing on Aruheng. "Aruheng, go back to the dorms. All of you."
As the children scurried away, Aruheng paused, looking back at Zhangting with a newfound respect.
Once they were alone, Mu Ye sat across from Zhangting. "You have a silver tongue and a dangerous heart, Zhangting. You've been here six hours and you've already begun to subvert my disciples."
"Subversion is such a ugly word, Teacher," Zhangting replied, handing a piece of meat to Mu Ye. "I prefer... 'investment'."
Mu Ye took the meat, tasted it, and sighed. "Your grandfather warned me you were precocious. He didn't warn me you were a fox in a dragon's skin. Why Aruheng? He hasn't even awakened his soul yet."
"Because," Zhangting said, his gaze turning toward the stars, "I saw a glimpse of his future. And I'd rather he be my shield than my enemy."
Mu Ye's eyes sharpened. "And what do you see in my future, boy?"
Zhangting leaned forward, the firelight casting long, demonic shadows across his face. "I see a Sect that no longer has to hide in the mountains. I see a Flawless Golden Body that doesn't just fight gods... but replaces them."
The cliffhanger hung between them, as heavy as the stone of the mountains. But before Mu Ye could respond, a piercing, high-pitched whistle echoed from the Spirit Pagoda transport ship anchored in the valley.
It was the signal for an emergency.
Zhangting stood up, his hand instantly going to his communication device. A single message blinked on the screen in blood-red text:
[BREACH AT THE LABORATORY. THE SUBJECT HAS ESCAPED.]
Zhangting's heart hammered. The Brain Development Project. Someone had just kicked the hornet's nest.
"It seems," Zhangting whispered, a cold thrill racing through him, "that the mystery is coming to find me."