A hush fell over the cliffside clearing in the wake of the Shadowscale Serpent's retreat. The only sound was the rasp of wind through broken foliage and the ragged breathing of four young cultivators.
Zhao Wuji stood with arms folded, watching the serpent's dark form vanish into the forest. Finally, he clapped—slow, deliberate. Each palm strike echoed against the stone.
"Not bad for the first day," he rumbled, a rare note of approval in his tone.
Xiao Wu nearly collapsed onto the grass, laughter bubbling up despite her exhaustion. "This… actually feels like a real team," she gasped, propping herself on an elbow as her braid whipped behind her.
Beside her, Zhu Zhuqing remained upright, silently panting. Her usual reserve cracked into a faint smile as she exchanged a glance with Li Wei—eyes bright with newfound respect.
Ning Rongrong sank to her knees, her pagoda clattering softly against her lap. She grinned up at Li Wei, hair plastered to her forehead by sweat. "That was insane—but I want more."
Li Wei drew in a slow breath, chest rising beneath his dark tunic. He closed his eyes and replayed the battle in his mind's eye: how RX and Zhu Zhuqing had baited the serpent's tail, how Xiao Wu and Zero-One had danced around the acid breath, how Blade had exploited the weak joint that Build had pinpointed, and how Rongrong's buffs had turned the tide when they hesitated.
'Xiao Wu's timing improved—you held your ground before punching the flank. Zhu Zhuqing's Hell Hundred Claw was sharp, but the gap in your angle left a seam too large. Rongrong—your dual buff was perfect, but remember to gauge their timing. Don't overlap Blade's pattern change. And my own callouts… I could integrate more contingencies if the beast had more than one weakness.'
He opened his eyes. The four looked at him, waiting.
"Gather up," Li Wei said, stepping forward. "That was a victory, but not perfection."
Rongrong sat back on her heels. "Perfection? I'm just glad I didn't get melted by acid."
Li Wei smiled, but it was a teacher's smile—gentle, expectant. "We win together, but we grow from reflection. Let's review." He gestured to four boulders arrayed in a semicircle.
They settled onto the stones. Around them, sunlight slanted lower, painting the trees gold. It was a quiet moment—a rare stillness after chaos.
Li Wei began. "First—Xiao Wu. Your timing on the Waist Bow was superb. You hit the flank when it twisted—nice work. But next time, watch its head tilt. That tells you the acid breath's charge pattern. Start your leap the moment it turns."
Xiao Wu nodded eagerly. "Understood. So anticipate the head turn, not the roar."
"Exactly." Li Wei turned to Zhu Zhuqing. "You and RX: your spiral assault split its balance. Good. But when the tail smashed forward, you were caught off-guard. Use the second Hell Rush to evade, not just the first. Chain it as RX presses the head."
Zhu Zhuqing tapped her gloves. "Got it. Two-phase evasion."
Next was Rongrong. Li Wei smiled. "Your Strength and Agility buffs came at peak moments—thank you. Just… coordinate your chant so there's no overlap. Blade began his pattern shift at T-12; your buff hit at T-14. Move it two seconds earlier."
Rongrong's eyes brightened. "Two seconds. Easy."
Finally, Li Wei faced Zhao Wuji grin. The teacher crossed his massive arms. "Not saying anything about me?"
Li Wei shook his head. "You watching? Perfect. Just… maybe crack a smile next time."
Zhao Wuji roared a laugh that rattled the trees. "I'll save the smiles for the arena."
They broke with easy laughter. The critique had bonded them deeper than any forced drill.
Unbeknownst to him and outside of detection of Golden Crocodile Douluo, a person with purple silhouette looking at the place where Li Wei and the rest gather before he or she disappear in a puff of smoke.
______________________
As dusk spilled over Shrek Academy, Team Two slunk back to the dorm courtyard—exhausted, triumphant, and closer than ever. Their clothes were torn, their spirits alight with shared victory.
Inside the lecture hall, however, an entirely different scene unfolded.
Yu Xiaogang stood at a narrow podium beside a chalkboard scribbled with ring theory diagrams. Four students—Tang San, Dai Mubai, Ma Hongjun, and Oscar—sat in rigid rows, repeating ring placement principles in unison.
"Odd-numbered rings emphasize offense; even-numbered rings strengthen support," they chanted.
Yu Xiaogang's eyes darted between them. "Again."
The four repeated, voices blending into droning monotony. The sun outside had dipped below the western spire, leaving shadow across their backs.
Tang San closed his eyes for a brief second as the words dripped from his mouth. He mentally erased the syllables, heart heavier than the molten core of his Blue Silver Grass.
Offense… support… offense… support…
His thoughts drifted to the distant cliffside—the roar of the serpent, the gleam of Rider armors, the laugh of Xiao Wu, the spark of Rongrong's resolve.
He clenched his free hand. The vine-whip hanging at his side cocooned with binding power—yet it felt as insubstantial as these recitations.
A distant echo drifted through the open window. A rumble of shifting earth, the clash of steel and scale.
Tang San tensed. His classmates' voices chanted on, oblivious.
That sound… it isn't from Yu Xiaogang's lesson.
He stood abruptly, chair scraping. The others froze, eyes on him.
"Brother San?" Oscar mumbled.
He shook his head, face determined. "I—I need air."
Before anyone could stop him, Tang San strode to the window and peered into the twilight.
In the distance, a single spark of movement—too brief, too bright to be a spirit ring flaring. It vanished as quickly as it came.
Tang San's hand curled around the window frame. "Li Wei… how far will you go with your recklessness?"
Behind him, Yu Xiaogang noticed the disruption. He narrowed his eyes and said softly, "Won't you finish the lesson?"
Tang San clenched his jaw. "Not everything can be learned from books."
He turned on his heel and stalked out of the hall.
The soft clack of his boots faded.
In the silence, Yu Xiaogang watched the doorway, lips curving in a faint, inscrutable smile.
Perhaps the boy is beginning to learn… on his own.