Consciousness returned to me gradually, like emerging from deep, warm water into the bright world above. The sensation was profoundly peaceful—more restful than any sleep I could remember experiencing in months. My body felt cradled in softness, surrounded by gentle warmth that seemed to penetrate all the way to my bones.
"Just a few more minutes," I murmured to myself, luxuriating in the rare experience of complete physical comfort. When was the last time I had felt so thoroughly rested and lazy?
However, as my mind gradually sharpened, the reality of my situation began to reassert itself. The reason I felt this relaxed is because, of taking proper rest while being ignorant of any burden. The sheets were clean and soft, smelling faintly of lavender and sunshine rather than forest dampness and smoke. Most tellingly, I could hear the distant sounds of conversation and activity that suggested I was in some kind of establishment rather than alone in the wilderness.
My eyes opened slowly, taking in unfamiliar surroundings that confirmed my suspicions. This was definitely not my tent. The room was modest but well-appointed, with wooden furniture that spoke of craftsmanship and care. Sunlight streamed through clean windows, casting cheerful patterns on walls that had been painted in warm, welcoming colors.
Memory began returning in fragments—the battle with the Emerald Demon Bird, my injuries, the onset of biological changes I had been unprepared to handle alone in the wilderness. Someone had found me in my moment of greatest vulnerability and brought me to safety. While I was grateful for their intervention, the circumstances raised numerous questions about my current situation and the intentions of my rescuer.
My right arm, which had been a constant source of pain before I lost consciousness, now felt remarkably improved. Careful testing revealed that while some stiffness remained, the bone had healed properly and the deep tissue damage had been expertly treated. It seems my hand healed passively while I passed out.
The cramping in my lower abdomen, however, reminded me that some aspects of my physical distress remained unresolved. My body was still adjusting to the hormonal changes of maturity, and I estimated I would need at least another day or two before the cramping goes away.
As I was taking inventory of my condition, the sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway outside caught my attention. The measured pace suggested someone carrying something substantial, and moments later, the door opened to reveal a young woman in simple but clean clothing.
"Oh! You're finally conscious!" she exclaimed, nearly dropping the basin of water she was carrying in her excitement. "I'll get Dean Liu immediately. She's been so worried about you!"
Before I could respond, she had placed her burden hurriedly on a nearby table and rushed from the room, calling out as she went. "Dean! The little sister has woken up!"
"Little sister?" I repeated under my breath, somewhat amused despite my circumstances. "I suppose from her perspective, that's accurate enough."
The student's obvious enthusiasm suggested I had been unconscious for a considerable period, long enough for my condition to become a matter of genuine concern. This realization was both humbling and slightly embarrassing—I prided myself on self-sufficiency, and requiring rescue due to my own poor planning felt like a significant failure.
Within five minutes, the door opened again to admit a figure I had hoped never to encounter: Liu Erlong herself. The woman was exactly as I remembered her from descriptions and brief glimpses—tall, strikingly beautiful, with long black hair that framed features that would have been considered perfect if not for the intensity that burned in her dark eyes. Her presence filled the room immediately, commanding attention through sheer force of personality.
She approached my bedside with the confident stride of someone accustomed to authority, her gaze assessing my condition with the practiced eye of an experienced soul master. Despite my complicated feelings about this particular individual, I had to acknowledge that her concern appeared genuine.
I pushed myself up to a sitting position, preparing to address the situation diplomatically. However, before I could formulate an appropriate greeting, my stomach chose that moment to announce its own priorities with a loud, unmistakable growling sound that echoed embarrassingly through the quiet room.
The sound was so pronounced that both Liu Erlong and I paused, the moment of intended gravity disrupted by my body's basic needs. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, the first genuine expression of warmth I had seen from her.
"I... apologize for that," I said, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. "Could I perhaps trouble you for something to eat? And water, if possible?"
"Of course," Liu Erlong replied, her voice carrying a maternal warmth that caught me off guard. "You've been unconscious for nearly two days. Your body needs proper nourishment to complete its recovery."
The next hour passed in a blur of careful attention as Liu Erlong's students brought various foods and beverages for my consumption. The selection was thoughtfully chosen—soft porridges that would be easy on my digestive system, fresh fruits rich in vitamins and natural sugars, herbal teas that promoted healing and relaxation.
"I'm sorry, but we'll need to avoid meat, spices, and anything too rich for the next few days," Liu Erlong explained as she personally oversaw my meal. "Your body has been through significant trauma, and we need to be gentle with your recovery process."
To my slight mortification, she insisted on feeding me personally, maintaining that my arm needed additional time to heal properly despite my protests that I felt capable of managing on my own. Her attention was thorough and professional, but there was an underlying intensity to her care that made me increasingly uncomfortable.
"She's already reaching conclusions," I realized with growing unease. "This level of personal attention isn't just about medical care."
Once I had eaten my fill and felt considerably more human, Liu Erlong dismissed her students with polite but firm instructions, ensuring we would have complete privacy for whatever conversation she intended to initiate. The room seemed to grow smaller as the last student departed, leaving us alone with the weight of unspoken questions hanging in the air.
I could see her preparing to launch into whatever interrogation she had planned, but I had no intention of allowing her to control the direction of our interaction. Taking the initiative, I reached into my storage soul tool and withdrew the most valuable item I possessed—the soul bone I had harvested from the Emerald Demon Bird.
"Before we discuss anything else," I said, extending the precious bone toward her, "I want to express my gratitude for saving my life. Please accept this, and don't refuse it. I don't like being in anyone's debt."
Liu Erlong's eyes widened as she recognized what I was offering. The soul bone pulsed with concentrated power, its emerald surface catching the afternoon light and casting subtle patterns of green across the room. Even someone with her extensive experience would recognize the immense value of such a treasure.
"That's... that's far too precious," she stammered, clearly shocked by the magnitude of my gesture. "I can't possibly accept something so valuable. A soul bone of this quality could..."
"Could start wars between soul master clans," I finished for her, my tone deliberately flat and businesslike. "I'm well aware of its worth. That's precisely why I'm giving it to you. Even if it were ten times more valuable, it wouldn't equal the worth of a single human life. Either you accept it, or I'll have to assume you had ulterior motives for rescuing me."
The subtle threat in my words was intentional. I wanted to establish clear boundaries from the beginning of our relationship and eliminate any possibility of emotional manipulation based on gratitude or obligation. If Liu Erlong harbored any thoughts of using moral leverage to influence my decisions regarding Yu Xiaogang, I intended to remove that option immediately.
Her expression shifted through several emotions—surprise, consideration, and finally a reluctant acceptance as she understood the underlying message. With obvious reservations, she took the soul bone and set it carefully aside, handling it with the respect such a treasure deserved.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "This is... extraordinarily generous."
With the matter of debt settled, I watched as Liu Erlong's demeanor shifted back into investigative mode. She turned to face me fully, her posture straightening with renewed purpose.
"May I see your martial spirit?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral but carrying an undertone of barely suppressed anticipation.
"Here it comes," I thought resignedly. "The real reason for all this attention."
I had known this moment was inevitable from the moment I realized who had rescued me. Liu Erlong's obsession with Yu Xiaogang was legendary, and anyone with even a passing resemblance to his martial soul would naturally attract her intense scrutiny.
With a resigned sigh, I summoned Lumine into the physical world. The small golden dog materialized with her characteristic grace, immediately sensing my mood and responding with comforting affection. She leaped onto my lap and began gently licking my recently healed right hand, her warm presence providing emotional support for the difficult conversation ahead.
Liu Erlong's breath caught as she took in Lumine's appearance. I could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she processed the implications of my martial soul's resemblance to Luo Sanpao.
"Do you have a name for your martial spirit?" she asked, though I suspected she was more interested in gathering evidence than expressing genuine curiosity. "If not, I could suggest something appropriate."
"Her name is Lumine," I replied simply, my hand moving to gently stroking Lumine.
"I see." Liu Erlong's voice carried a weight that suggested this simple detail carried significant meaning for her. "Can you contact your parents? I have to say, I find it difficult to understand how they could allow someone so young to hunt dangerous soul beasts alone."
The question hit exactly as I had expected it would, though that didn't make it any less irritating to address. "I don't have any parents to contact," I said evenly. "That person abandoned us, and my mother died giving birth to me."
"I believe I have information about your father," Liu Erlong pressed, her eagerness becoming more apparent with each exchange. "Would you like to meet him?"
"I'm sorry, but I don't have a father," I replied firmly. "As I just explained, he abandoned us before I was even born."
"You shouldn't think of it that way," she insisted, her voice taking on the tone of someone who believed she was offering comfort and wisdom. "There might have been circumstances or difficulties that forced your father to leave you and your mother. Perhaps he had no choice in the matter."
I felt my patience beginning to fray at the edges. The presumption inherent in her words—that she understood my situation better than I did, that she could simply dismiss my feelings and experiences with platitudes about understanding and forgiveness—struck me as both arrogant and insulting.
"Miss Liu," I said, my voice growing cooler, "I've already told you that I don't care about any father. As far as I'm concerned, he's already dead to me."
"At least listen to what I have to say," she pleaded, clearly frustrated by my resistance to her narrative. "Your father is Yu Xiaogang, known as the Wisdom Corner of the Golden Iron Triangle. Not only that, but he's the son of the current head of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon clan. From childhood, despite having what others considered a defective martial soul, he pursued a different path—the accumulation of knowledge about soul masters and soul beasts. Through tremendous effort and sacrifice, he created one of the most important works in soul master history: 'The Ten Great Core Spirit Competencies.' He sacrificed his entire youth to create that masterwork."
The grandiose speech was so perfectly in line with my expectations that I couldn't help but react with genuine amusement. A laugh bubbled up from deep in my chest, starting as a small chuckle but growing into full-bodied laughter that I couldn't seem to control.
"I'm sorry," I managed between fits of laughter, "I don't usually laugh this much, but... really? Have you actually read that book properly? If Yu Xiaogang created such revolutionary knowledge, how exactly did the Haotian Clan, the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, and the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Clan establish their dominance on the Douluo Continent centuries before he was even born?"
The logical inconsistency at the heart of the "Ten Great Core Spirit Competencies" had always been one of the most glaring problems with Yu Xiaogang's supposed expertise. The three great clans had been powerhouses for generations, their strength built on accumulated knowledge and techniques that predated Yu Xiaogang's birth by centuries. Yet somehow, his "revolutionary" insights were supposed to represent groundbreaking discoveries rather than simply organizing existing knowledge into a more accessible format.
"HOW CAN YOU BE SO UNGRATEFUL AND LAUGH AT YOUR OWN FATHER??" Liu Erlong exploded, her composure finally cracking under the weight of my rejection of her carefully constructed narrative.
Her anger was palpable, filling the room with an oppressive heat that spoke of her fire-based martial soul responding to her emotional state. For a moment, I wondered if I had pushed too hard, but then I reminded myself that I hadn't asked for this conversation or invited her attempts at emotional manipulation.
"Miss Liu," I replied, my voice remaining calm despite her outburst, "as I've repeatedly explained, I don't have a father. Regarding your accusation of ingratitude, I don't owe anything to a person named Yu Xiaogang—he's a complete stranger to me. Furthermore, it's you who is forcing me to listen to claims I have no interest in hearing and attempting to make me accept relationships I explicitly reject."
Reaching into my storage soul tool, I withdrew a worn copy of "The Ten Great Core Spirit Competencies." However, this wasn't the original version—over months of study, I had filled the margins with corrections, additional insights, and comprehensive critiques of the original content. My annotations effectively demonstrated the numerous flaws, oversimplifications, and outright errors in Yu Xiaogang's supposedly masterful work.
I tossed the book toward Liu Erlong, where it landed on the bed between us with a soft thud. "I don't mean to be rude, but if it's possible, I'd suggest you read this book—really read it—and spend some time thinking critically about its contents. Thank you for your help with my recovery. I hope you can respect my wishes and leave me alone. I won't be seeing you out."
The dismissal was clear and final. I had expressed my gratitude for her assistance, settled any debt between us, and made my position regarding Yu Xiaogang crystal clear. Any further conversation would be pointless repetition of the same arguments.
(A/n- Sorry reader, I got cold due to dehydration. And even feeling too weak, so I can't upload another chapter.)