The heavenly curtain continued to play.
Yu Yuanzhen stared into his son's eyes, lips dry, heart pounding as if it might burst from his chest. The small hand that reached for his finger was warm and real. Yu Xiaogang's palm could only wrap around one of Yu Yuanzhen's broad, rough fingers, but the boy's joy was unmistakable—he could finally touch the family he had heard about for years.
When Yu Xiaogang first transmigrated, the Douluo Continent had felt alien and overwhelming. Learning that his spirit was too powerful for his immature brain had been a strange relief: if his body could not obey, perhaps he could remain distant from the pain of family ties. Yet Yu Yuanzhen's steady care had changed that. The father's patient presence became an anchor, and the child who had once been dazed wanted, more than anything, to belong. Today, that wish was fulfilled.
"Xiao… Xiaogang, have you truly regained your senses?" Yu Yuanzhen asked, voice trembling.
"Yes," the boy replied, nodding.
Yu Yuanzhen laughed with unrestrained joy and swept him up. "I knew you could do it!" he cried.
"Father, put me down quickly!" Yu Xiaogang protested, squirming in the embrace. He had lived two lives; he preferred to skip the theatrics.
At Shrek Academy, the Grandmaster Yu Xiaogang watched the scene with a sour, inexplicable discomfort. "He only regained his senses at five and will awaken at six. I'll see what Spirit he gets—won't be as good as mine," he snorted, envy thinly veiled as scorn.
Flender fell silent. Tang San, Yu Xiaogang's prized disciple, watched with a different sting. Memories of Saint Spirit Village rose unbidden: years of shouldering every household chore while his father drank and ignored him. Seeing a Titled Douluo father care for his son without condition ignited a sour flame of jealousy in Tang San. He had always been the sensible child, yet the world had not rewarded him with the same ease of love. For the first time, he felt the heavens were unfair.
The heavenly curtain rolled on. News of Yu Xiaogang's recovery spread through the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect. As the Sect Master's son, he had always drawn attention, but few expected much after his slow start.
"I didn't expect him to return to normal, and just in time for the Martial Soul Awakening," the disciples murmured. "What Spirit will he awaken? Best not to hope."
At the Sect Master's residence, Yu Xiaogang—now lucid—posed a practical question to his father.
"Father, what if I start cultivating before the Martial Soul Awakening?"
Yu Yuanzhen blinked. "Why would you want that?"
"Martial Soul Awakening determines a person's future," Yu Xiaogang said. "Given my situation, I don't want to awaken a poor Spirit and become a laughingstock."
Yu Yuanzhen bristled. "With me here, it doesn't matter what Spirit you awaken. I am a Titled Douluo—who dares mock you?"
Yu Xiaogang shook his head. "I'm not worried about them mocking me. I can bear that. I can't stand them mocking you."
Yu Yuanzhen was stunned. The boy's concern was not for his own humiliation but for the stain it placed on his father's life. Having accepted Yu Yuanzhen's care, Yu Xiaogang had grown sensitive to the mockery that once seemed distant. Now it cut deep because it targeted the man who had given him everything.
To erase that blemish on his father's reputation, Yu Xiaogang realized there were only two paths: the blemish must never have existed, or it must be transformed into something so brilliant that no one would ever call it a flaw again.