2 chapters will be uploaded on daily basis i.e. 14 Chapters will be uploaded every week apart from the bonus chapters.
1 Bonus Chapter will be uploaded for every 50 Power Stones or 1000 Collections.
All interested readers can read advanced chapters on: Free Members of Patreon can read 10 Chapters ahead of Webnovel for FREE.
[email protected]/Kingdom_Of_Ink
×××××××××××××××
Tang San keenly noticed Tang Yuehua's unusual silence. His gaze swept across the banquet: Ning Fengzhi's calm eyes, Chen Xin with his eyes closed in meditation, and Ning Rongrong secretly glancing at Feng Xiao from time to time.
His breathing quickened unconsciously, and the wine glass in his hand trembled slightly, causing tiny ripples to appear in the wine against the glass. His slender fingers clenched tightly, his knuckles turning slightly white, feeling so dim and insignificant in front of Feng Xiao. Tang San's face gradually darkened, and a hint of jealousy, which even he himself didn't detect, flashed in his eyes. But soon, he forced himself to calm down—his experience in Slaughter City told him that impatience would only make the situation worse.
Just as Tang San's thin lips parted, about to break the silence and guide the conversation, he suddenly felt a cool, gentle touch on his knee—Tang Yuehua's slender, jade-like hand, hidden by the tablecloth, gently pressed onto his leg. The hand seemed to rest casually, but its fingertips held an irresistible force, steadily pressing his restless body back into his seat.
Tang San turned his head and met Tang Yuehua's violet eyes. A graceful smile still hung on her lips, but her eyes were as calm and unruffled as a deep pool, and she imperceptibly shook her head only to him.
This gesture instantly sobered Tang San. He raised his wine glass to conceal the turmoil in his heart. The spicy taste of the wine going down his throat was just like the surging emotions within him at that moment.
Tang San's gaze swept gloomily around the banquet—nobles in luxurious attire clinked glasses, and attendants moved through the room. Indeed, this was not a good time to discuss matters.
He suppressed the rising irritation in his heart, unconsciously creasing the napkin with his fingertips. The exquisite dishes in front of him emitted an enticing aroma, but he had no appetite. In contrast, Feng Xiao, not far away, was eating happily, and whatever he said made the two women beside him cover their mouths and chuckle softly.
Looking at the smiles on Dugu Yan and Ye Lingling's faces, he suddenly remembered that familiar figure, "Xiao Wu."
The fist under the tablecloth clenched again, but he had to maintain a proper smile on his face—this banquet was more difficult to endure than he had imagined.
Feng Xiao's slender fingers gently stroked the rim of his wine glass, a flash of insight crossing his eyes. Although Tang Yuehua's movement was almost perfectly concealed, and Tang San's expression control was superb, under his powerful mental force perception, the small movements of the aunt and nephew under the table were as clear as candlelight.
He seemingly casually raised his glass and took a sip, using it to hide the playful smile on his lips.
"Sister Lingling, try this." Feng Xiao deliberately raised his voice and pushed a plate of exquisite pastries in front of Ye Lingling. He caught a glimpse of Tang San's chopsticks noticeably pausing when he heard the intimate address.
These subtle reactions made the amusement in Feng Xiao's eyes deepen. He elegantly picked up a napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth, and with this action, he exchanged a knowing glance with Qian Renxue—this banquet was even more exciting than he had anticipated.
As night deepened, guests at the banquet began to take their leave in twos and threes. Ning Fengzhi elegantly tidied his robes and slowly rose with Ning Rongrong.
Feng Xiao keenly noticed Qian Renxue's movements—the Crown Prince was subtly adjusting his cuffs. Feng Xiao immediately understood, gently put down the jade chopsticks in his hand, and whispered to Ye Lingling and Dugu Yan beside him, "We should also take our leave."
Ning Fengzhi bowed gracefully, the moonlight shimmering on his glazed robes: "Today, I am truly indebted to Lady Yuehua for her generous hospitality. It has been an eye-opener for me." His gentle voice carried just the right amount of sincerity, "Another day, I hope Lady will honor the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School with her presence, allowing me to fulfill my duties as host."
Hearing this, Tang Yuehua's violet eyes immediately sparkled with joy. She offered a graceful smile: "School Master Ning is too kind. Yuehua will certainly await your good news at the Moon Pavilion, and then I hope School Master will not hesitate to offer your guidance."
The two exchanged smiles; seemingly ordinary pleasantries concealed hidden intentions. Ning Fengzhi's gaze subtly swept over Tang San, who stood behind Tang Yuehua. This farewell, which seemed to be enjoyed by both host and guests, appeared particularly meaningful under the clear moonlight.
Feng Xiao chuckled softly at the words, the moonlight casting a silver glow on his handsome profile. He elegantly bowed to Tang Yuehua, his robes fluttering gently in the night breeze: "I have troubled Lady Yuehua today."
A hint of complexity flashed in Tang Yuehua's violet eyes, but she maintained her perfect smile: "Little Feng, you're too polite. If there's an opportunity, I hope you can come to the Moon Pavilion to guide the students in their guqin skills. After all…" She subtly raised her slender hand, gesturing towards where he had just played, "Such skill as yours is truly rare."
Feng Xiao's lips curved slightly, his gaze subtly sweeping between Tang Yuehua and Tang San: "Of course." His voice was as gentle as jade, "It is an honor for a junior to be appreciated by Lady Yuehua." After saying this, he nodded again, and as he turned, his robes stirred a gentle breeze, perfectly concealing the fleeting gloom in Tang San's eyes behind him.
Feng Xiao turned gracefully, facing "Xue Qinghe," who was surrounded by attendants, and respectfully bowed: "Your Royal Highness, please allow this junior to take his leave first." The moment he lowered his head, his eyelids subtly lifted, and he exchanged a knowing glance with Qian Renxue that only they understood.
Qian Renxue—still in the gentle, jade-like guise of the Crown Prince—curved her lips into an almost imperceptible smile. She nodded slightly: "What's with the politeness with me? Go back and rest well." Her voice was clear and proper, yet only Feng Xiao could detect the hidden intimacy within it.
Feng Xiao's robe traced an elegant arc in the air. Accompanied by Ye Lingling and Dugu Yan on either side, he calmly walked towards the carriage parked in the moonlight. Before boarding, he seemed to sense something and looked back—under the moonlight, Tang Yuehua and Tang San, the aunt and nephew, stood by a pillar, watching them depart, their figures casting long shadows under the glazed lanterns.
The carriage slowly started, its gilded wheels rolling over the moonlit flagstones. Inside the carriage, Feng Xiao gazed at the gradually receding Moon Pavilion through the window, a meaningful glint in his eyes.
Tang Yuehua stood silently on the steps in front of the Moon Pavilion's entrance, watching Feng Xiao's carriage slowly disappear into the night. The night breeze rustled her violet skirt, carrying a faint, subtle fragrance.
Although Tang Yuehua's meticulous arrangements tonight were affected by Feng Xiao, leaving her somewhat disheartened, she had to admit that the young man's guqin skills were truly impressive. When Feng Xiao's guqin music sounded, she felt as if she had returned to the training grounds behind the Clear Sky Sect—sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground, the shouts of her brothers practicing martial arts echoed in the distance, and she sat on a bluestone, with the zither left by her mother in front of her.
How many years had it been since she last felt that long-lost, pure joy?
Tang Yuehua unconsciously placed her hand over her heart, where the lingering thrill of the music still remained.
"Aunt?" Tang San's voice pulled her back to reality.
Tang Yuehua collected her thoughts, and when she turned, she had regained her usual elegance and composure: "Let's go, we'll talk more when we get back." Her gaze, however, couldn't help but turn back towards the direction the carriage had left. If possible, she hoped to hear that young man's guqin often.
Inside the carriage, Dugu Yan stretched languidly, her dark green gown accentuating her graceful curves. She leaned back onto the soft cushion without a care, her red lips pouting slightly: "I'm exhausted. Next time, just let Lingling accompany you to these kinds of events."
Feng Xiao couldn't help but chuckle, reaching out to smooth her scattered hair: "It was just a meal, how did it tire out my Sister Yan?"
"Oh, stop it!" Dugu Yan playfully swatted his hand away, her emerald-like eyes glancing sideways, "Besides me and Lingling, who at that entire table was really there to eat?" She said somewhat helplessly: "Every sentence had eight hundred hidden meanings." She suddenly realized something, glanced at the quietly seated Ye Lingling, and changed the subject, "In short, a meal felt like a martial arts competition, and all these twists and turns ruined my appetite."
Ye Lingling chuckled softly at her words, a hint of mischief flashing in her ice-blue eyes: "Indeed." She lightly tapped the table with her fingertip, "Even while serving us, Little Feng didn't forget to exchange glances with the Crown Prince."
As she spoke, Ye Lingling's moon-white wide sleeves rippled gently like water with her movements. She brushed her slender fingers over the spirit tool at her waist, retrieving a carved sandalwood food box, and offered it to Dugu Yan: "Here, I saved this especially for you."
Dugu Yan's emerald-like eyes immediately lit up, and she eagerly took the food box. The moment she opened the lid, a sweet aroma filled the air; it was her favorite pastry. She joyfully hugged Ye Lingling and gave her cool, jade-like face a "smooch": "Lingling knows me best!" Her red lips curved into a sly arc, "If only I were a man, how great would it be? We could live together and forget about him."
Ye Lingling's ears turned red from the sudden intimacy, but she didn't push her away, only shaking her head helplessly. Feng Xiao watched from the side, amused, and deliberately put on a serious face: "Sister Yan, saying that will make me sad."
Dugu Yan had just taken a bite of pastry when her movements paused. A hint of a smile flashed in her violet eyes, and she suddenly leaned forward, pressing her red lips directly onto Feng Xiao's cheek, even deliberately rubbing some pastry crumbs onto him.
"Satisfied?" she mumbled, sugar frosting still clinging to her lips. As she pulled back, she mischievously smeared his face again, spreading the pastry crumbs further.
Feng Xiao was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. He raised a hand to wipe it, but Ye Lingling beat him to it. She took out a handkerchief embroidered with silver threads and gently wiped the marks from his face, her movements as meticulous as if she were polishing precious porcelain.
Feng Xiao felt the warmth from Ye Lingling's fingertips, the gentle touch warming his heart slightly. He gently held Ye Lingling's wrist and lightly kissed her palm: "I need to go to the East Palace later." His voice was low and gentle, with a hint of apology, "Would you two mind going back to the academy first?"
Dugu Yan and Ye Lingling exchanged glances and nodded in understanding. Even the usually carefree Dugu Yan understood that the seemingly casual eye contact at the banquet earlier must have hidden implications.
The carriage turned into a quiet alley, and Feng Xiao lifted the curtain to look at the moonlight. Under the cover of night, he slipped out of the carriage like a ghost, leaving only a lingering echo of "Be careful" drifting in the night wind. His dark robes blended with the darkness, and in a blink of an eye, he disappeared in the direction of the East Palace.
With the gilded token granted by Qian Renxue, Feng Xiao entered the East Palace as if it were uninhabited. Upon seeing the gilded token, the guards bowed and retreated, not daring to lift their heads. He skillfully navigated through layers of palaces, his calm footsteps echoing through the vermilion-lacquered corridors.
The attendants of the East Palace were long accustomed to this; upon seeing Feng Xiao, they tacitly stepped aside. An older palace maid even thoughtfully pushed open the carved door to the inner hall for him, a knowing smile on her face. The hall was scented with Qian Renxue's favorite ambergris, and two warmed cups of tea were already on the table—evidently, his arrival had been anticipated.
Feng Xiao casually hung his outer robe on the familiar sandalwood rack, a gesture he had performed so many times that he remembered the exact curvature of the hook.
The hall was silent, with only the wisps of green smoke rising from the gilded incense burner slowly swirling in the moonlight. Feng Xiao looked around and found that Qian Renxue had not yet returned—it seemed she was still dealing with that old fox, Ning Fengzhi.
Meanwhile, inside the Supreme Pontiff Palace.
On the gilded candelabra, nine white candles burned quietly, illuminating the entire council hall as bright as day. Bibi Dong sat enthroned on the jewel-encrusted Supreme Pontiff's seat, her slender fingers gently turning a page of an ink-scented classic.
On the cover, the seven gilded characters "On the Progress of Spirit Masters" shone brightly in the candlelight, with "Feng Xiao" conspicuously signed below.
As she read deeper, Bibi Dong's amethyst-like eyes constantly flickered with unusual brilliance. At times, her eyes would light up at a clever idea, and at other times, her delicate brows would furrow at a revolutionary concept. She unconsciously sat up straighter, her luxurious Supreme Pontiff's robe spreading out on the throne.
"So that's it... Everything is based on this," she murmured softly, her fingertips repeatedly tracing the "spirit power Circulation Method" in the book's table of contents. The candlelight illuminated her exquisite profile, alternately brightening and dimming, revealing the increasing shock and contemplation in her eyes.
Bibi Dong's fingertips gently traced the spirit power circulation diagrams on the pages, ripples appearing in her violet eyes. Although meditation was widely used for cultivation in the current Spirit Master's world, most Spirit Masters essentially relied on instinct to crudely manipulate spirit power and activate the power of spirit rings. All powerful abilities depended on the spirit rings granted by hunting Spirit Beasts.
"But this child…" she whispered, her voice echoing in the vast hall.
The spirit power control methods described in the book allowed one to control internal spirit power as if it were an arm. Through subtle spirit power shaping, battle techniques could be created independently. The detailed meridian circulation routes and ingenious spirit power compression techniques all demonstrated groundbreaking wisdom. In Feng Xiao's system, spirit rings were no longer the core source of power but rather became an auxiliary, a bonus.
In an instant, Bibi Dong suddenly recalled the mountain-like Clear Sky Hammer from two years ago. At this moment, she understood where the true disparity lay.
As Feng Xiao's book stated, powerful underlying logic was not simply about spirit power level, nor was it about powerful spirit rings, Spirit Bones, or Spirit Abilities. Instead, it was about a Spirit Master's utilization of their own conditions, and even combining various conditions to unleash power beyond their own.
Clearly, Feng Xiao himself was the best example; if Feng Xiao's strength was due to his own proactive development, then the reason Clear Sky Sect disciples were powerful was entirely due to the passive influence of their Spirit.
The Clear Sky Hammer was hailed as the number one Tool Spirit in the world. Its extremely heavy weight not only determined the Spirit's lethality but also implied extremely high usage requirements. To use it freely, one must possess a strong body, and merely having a strong body was not enough; to defeat opponents with such a cumbersome weapon, one must possess corresponding techniques.
Bibi Dong unconsciously touched her brow, where the Rakshasa God's divine seal lay dormant. If she had seen this book twenty years earlier, her path to peak cultivation might have avoided many detours. In the candlelight, the Supreme Pontiff's lips curved into a complex arc—a mix of appreciation for genius and a subtle, hard-to-detect hint of apprehension.