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Chapter 21 - Tea Party for Rejection

Mei finished her daily vocal exercises by the lake, the final notes of her scale hanging in the morning air. A sense of quiet accomplishment settled over her. Before heading to find Tang San and Xiao Wu, she willed her interface to life. The familiar glow materialized before her.

Current Status:

Age: 7 

Spirit: Starlight Stage

Soul Power: 18 (+1)

Fans: 453 (+52)

Idol God Trial: 0/9 <>

A genuine smile touched her lips. 453 fans. The street performances were working, steadily building her foundation. Progress, she thought, satisfied. Steady, tangible progress. She closed the window, the digital light dissolving into the morning sun, and set off to find her friends.

She found them in the same training courtyard where Yu Xiaogang had intruded upon their practice. Tang San was meditating, a faint aura of solar energy shimmering around him, while Xiao Wu was practicing her Waist Bow, bending into a perfect arch.

"Mei!" Xiao Wu chirped, spotting her first and springing upright. "You'll never guess what happened!"

Tang San opened his eyes, the calm focus in them softening as he saw her. "Good morning, Mei."

"Good morning," Mei replied, her smile warm. "What happened? You both look like you've seen a ghost."

"It was weirder than a ghost!" Xiao Wu exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "This super weird guy with sleepy eyes came to see us! He knew our names and all about us, getting spirit rings! He asked Brother San a bunch of weird questions and then asked him to be his disciple!"

Mei's pleasant expression shifted slightly, a flicker of recognition and unease in her pink eyes. "Sleepy eyes? Thin, looked like he carried the weight of all the books in the world on his shoulders? A bit... full of himself?"

"Yeah! That's him exactly!" Xiao Wu nodded vigorously. "Do you know him? He said his name was Yu Xiaogang or something. Called himself a 'Grandmaster'!"

Mei's smile faded completely, replaced by a more guarded look. "I've met him once," she confirmed, her tone careful. "He approached me during my first week here. He also offered to make me his disciple."

Tang San's attention sharpened. "He did? What did you say?"

"I declined," Mei said simply. "Politely, of course. His knowledge is undoubtedly vast, but..." She hesitated, searching for the right words. "He made me feel... uncomfortable. It felt less like he wanted a student and more like he wanted a subject for his research. He was very dismissive of my performances, calling them a 'degradation' for a spirit master." She shook her head slightly.

"I got the impression he only values power and theory that fits into his existing frameworks. Anything outside of that... he doesn't seem to understand."

'Ugh, that guy,' Ai's voice piped up in Mei's mind, materializing with a dramatic eye-roll. 'The walking, talking encyclopedia with a superiority complex. Total buzzkill. And the stalking, Ughhh, He's lucky there's no CPS here.'

Xiao Wu puffed out her cheeks. "See! I knew he was weird! Brother San said no to him too!"

Mei looked at Tang San, both surprised and impressed. "You refused him?"

Tang San nodded. "His offer felt more like a demand. And his interest felt... clinical. I agreed to have tea with him this evening to hear what he has to say, but I will not agree to be his disciple." He glanced at Mei. "Your feeling confirms my own. Thank you."

Mei felt a wave of relief. She had worried Tang San, with his thirst for knowledge, might have been swayed by the man's title. "Be careful at tea, Tang San. Someone that knowledgeable, who feels slighted... It's hard to predict what he might do or say."

"I will," he assured her. "I intend to listen, but I will make my own judgments."

Xiao Wu looped her arm through Mei's. "Forget the weirdo! Mei, spirit skill is so much cooler than anything he could teach! Show us again! I want to feel fast!"

Laughing, the unease momentarily forgotten, Mei summoned her Starlight Stage. The mysterious Grandmaster was a concern for later. For now, the sunlight was warm, and her friends were eager for a song.

That afternoon, Tang San visited Yu Xiaogang for tea. The door to Yu Xiaogang's study was exactly as imposing as its owner. Made of dark, heavy wood, it stood slightly ajar. Tang San, recalling Mei's warning, pushed it open.

The room within was a temple to knowledge, albeit a cluttered one. Shelves groaned under the weight of scrolls and leather-bound books. Charts of meridian pathways and spirit beast anatomy were pinned haphazardly to the walls.

The air smelled of old paper, ink, and the faint, astringent scent of drying herbs. Yu Xiaogang sat behind a large desk littered with open texts, a simple porcelain tea set steaming between them.

The afternoon sun streamed through a dusty window, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the air.

"Tang San. Punctual. A good habit," Yu Xiaogang said without looking up from the scroll he was studying. He gestured to the chair opposite him. "Sit."

Tang San did so, his posture straight and respectful. He remained silent, waiting.

Yu Xiaogang finally looked up, his half-lidded eyes assessing Tang San. He poured tea for them both, the act performed with a detached, mechanical precision.

"You rejected my offer this morning," he began, not as an accusation, but as a statement of fact. "A decision born of ignorance. You believe your path is one of self-discovery. A noble, if naive, sentiment." He took a slow sip of his tea.

"What if I were to tell you that your path is far more unique and far more dangerous than you could imagine? That your so-called 'self-discovery' could lead you into fatal errors, a master's guidance could avoid?"

Tang San met his gaze evenly. "I am always eager to learn, Master Yu. Please, enlighten me."

A thin smile touched Yu Xiaogang's lips. He seemed to appreciate the response. "Your Blue Silver Grass has innate full spirit power. These are not merely coincidences, Tang San. They are symptoms. Pieces of a puzzle that, according to all established spirit theory, should not exist." He leaned forward slightly, the afternoon light catching his eyes, making them seem less sleepy and more intense.

"There is only one theoretical framework that accounts for such a confluence of anomalies."

He paused, letting the tension build in the quiet, book-lined room. "The theory of Twin Spirits."

The words hung in the air, heavy and profound. Tang San's heart gave a violent lurch in his chest, but years of discipline kept his expression neutral. He simply took a sip of his own tea. How could he know?

"You hide it well," Yu Xiaogang continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "But the clue is there. I have been studying martial souls for many years and have concluded that a Blue Silver Grass is too weak to have spirit power beyond level 1. Therefore, there must be another spirit, a powerful one, that boosts you to have full innate spirit power."

He steepled his fingers. "This is why you need a master. The path of a twin-spirited individual is very dangerous. The order of spirit ring absorption, the balance of power, the risk of the spirits conflicting and tearing you apart... these are dilemmas you cannot solve alone. You possess a power that is both a supreme gift and a death sentence if mismanaged."

He sat back, watching Tang San closely, his expression one of supreme confidence. He expected awe. He expected gratitude. He expected a desperate plea for guidance.

Tang San placed his teacup down with a soft, precise click. The initial shock subsided into cold, sharp clarity. Yu Xiaogang was brilliant—he had deduced the truth from fragments. He knows about the second spirit.

But as the Grandmaster spoke, a critical flaw in his logic became apparent to Tang San's analytical mind. 

He assumes the second spirit is powerful. He believes it 'boosts' the Blue Silver Grass. But the fundamental theory states that for two spirits to manifest, they must be of comparable quality. A supremely powerful spirit would never share a soul with a 'trash' spirit like Blue Silver Grass; they would be in constant, destructive conflict from birth. His entire deduction is built on a flawed premise. He doesn't understand the core principle.

This realization was a shield. Yu Xiaogang might have stumbled upon the truth, but he didn't truly understand it. He was guessing. And a man who didn't understand the basic rules of his own theory could not be trusted to guide him through its complexities.

In that moment, the esteemed Grandmaster's authority crumbled in Tang San's eyes, replaced by the image of a desperate scholar clinging to an unproven hypothesis.

He's not a master, Tang San thought, a cold certainty settling in his gut. He's a fraud, peddling guesses as gospel. He sees what he wants to see, not what is.

"Your deduction is... remarkable, Master Yu," Tang San said, his voice calm. He chose his words with extreme care, steering the narrative with the confidence of someone who held real knowledge.

"It is true that the path ahead is uncertain. But your theory has a flaw. If a second, powerful spirit existed, the conflict would have manifested long ago. The more logical conclusion, one supported by mutation texts in the library, is that my Blue Silver Grass experienced a beneficial spiritual mutation at birth. It is no longer a 'standard' Blue Silver Grass. That is why it could host full spirit power. It is a unique variant." Tang San calmly stated

He was now arguing from a position of strength, using the man's own field against him and correcting his flawed logic without ever revealing the actual truth.

"That is why I must decline your offer," Tang San continued, his gaze steady. "My master must understand not just theory, but the student, and the reality of their spirit. I must be certain that my teacher sees me, and my unique martial soul, first and foremost."

He stood up, bowing slightly. "Thank you for the tea, and for the... enlightening conversation. It has given me a great deal to consider. You have my gratitude for your insight."

Yu Xiaogang's confident demeanor froze. The satisfaction drained from his face, replaced by stunned disbelief, then a flicker of confusion and frustration. The boy had not crumbled. He had debated him. On spirit theory. And his counter-argument about mutation was... annoyingly valid.

"Tang San—" Yu Xiaogang began, his voice sharper, a crack in his scholarly veneer.

"I will take my leave now, Master Yu," Tang San said, cutting him off with a tone of finality that brooked no argument. "Good afternoon."

He turned and walked out of the study, closing the heavy door softly behind him. He left behind a silent room and a Grandmaster sitting in a pool of afternoon sunlight, utterly and completely thwarted—not just by a six-year-old boy, but by the boy's superior grasp of logical deduction.

Outside, under the afternoon sun, Tang San exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The man knew something, but his understanding was shallow, his theory built on sand. Thanks to that, he was able to keep his Twin Martial Soul a secret this time.

But there was something that Yu Xiaogang said that stuck in his head.

So cultivating Twin Martial Soul has a great danger. Hmm, I'll ask Mei about this; maybe her Goddess has some answer to this. If not, there must be some research about this.

Maybe not here, but maybe a bigger force on this continent has this information.

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