Revelation and Quiet Jealousy
Yu Yuanzhen's envy remained invisible to everyone else. Fathers across the White World felt a twinge of admiration for the sensible child on the heavenly curtain, but Yu Yuanzhen's bitterness ran deeper: he watched a version of himself whose son had already taken responsibility at five. Comparison stung, and he swallowed the sourness alone.
The footage moved on. After his first day of training, the exhausted Yu Xiaogang collapsed. Yu Yuanzhen carried him to the sect's medicinal bath—an elite resource that soothed muscles, prevented injury, and accelerated recovery. Elders grumbled about expense; Yu Yuanzhen welcomed their complaints. His son had chosen to shoulder a burden for the family, and he would not stand aside.
The bath burned at first. Yu Xiaogang flinched, then forced himself to endure. When he emerged, Yu Yuanzhen's voice was gentle but firm: "If you insist on cultivating, this will be your daily life." Yu Xiaogang answered without hesitation: "I can manage."
Routine and Resolve
Afternoons became meditation sessions. The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect's methods favored lightning‑type Spirits, so Yu Xiaogang practiced basic but superior techniques, absorbing spiritual power slowly and steadily. Even without immediate Awakening, he trained his body, endurance, and comprehension.
Evenings were for study. Yu Yuanzhen's five years of explanations had been broad; now Yu Xiaogang read sect records, asked precise questions, and took notes. He learned why Beast Spirits often secured older spirit rings, why physical strength mattered for certain acquisitions, and how ring age and attribute composition influenced evolution. He cataloged everything, turning weakness into data.
For six months his life followed a strict rhythm: training, medicinal baths, meditation, study. The sect's members shook their heads—"The spirit hasn't even awakened yet, and they're already rushing to cultivate."—but Yu Xiaogang persisted.
Awakening and Aftermath
When Martial Soul Awakening arrived, expectations were low. The formation flared with golden light; dragons roared. A small, pig‑like creature appeared at Yu Xiaogang's feet. The Innate Spirit Power test returned Level 1. Many were unsurprised; some snickered. Yu Yuanzhen's face, however, remained clouded with worry. Outside the sect, the heavenly curtain sparked uproar—curiosity, scorn, and a dawning realization that destiny might be less fixed than believed.
The Statistical Breakthrough
Dragon God Douluo Yu Xiaogang did not stop at anecdote. He compiled every recorded case of Spirit evolution into neat tables and charts, then analyzed them. The pattern was clear: evolution often followed attribute stacking—a spirit whose early rings shared a dominant attribute would evolve once a later ring completed that attribute set.
Examples lined up like evidence: poison rings leading to the Jade Phosphor Serpent Emperor, fire rings producing Infernape, ice rings culminating in Ice Bird, plant rings transforming Spiky Grass into Spiny Leaf Vine, and dragon‑type rings birthing the Crimson Dragon. From these cases Yu Xiaogang distilled a practical strategy: ultimate attribute stacking—guide a spirit's early rings to share a dominant attribute, then secure the decisive ring to trigger evolution.
He presented the method plainly and accessibly. The clarity of his tables made the idea understandable even to common folk; the implications electrified the powerful.
Continentwide Reactions
At the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, Ning Fengzhi stared at the table and felt the future shift. With Yu Xiaogang's method and their own archives, what secrets might they unlock? Ning ordered immediate action: halt Awakening ceremonies for children, gather child‑safe medicinal herbs, acquire meditation methods, and begin systematic early cultivation. Gu Rong's excitement was uncontained—more full Innate Spirit Power geniuses would mean a thriving sect.
Across the continent, reactions split. Some factions embraced the method and began reorganizing resources. Others, especially the four single‑attribute clans, bristled. They had long pursued extreme attribute specialization—strength, defense, speed, and so on—yet their spirits had not evolved. Why did elemental attribute stacking (fire, water, lightning, ice) trigger evolution while physical attributes did not? The question gnawed at leaders and scholars alike.
Dugu Bo, the Poison Douluo, recognized his own path in Yu Xiaogang's analysis: his Jade Phosphor Serpent had evolved precisely through relentless poison‑attribute stacking. Yet he worried for his granddaughter—what worked for him might not be repeatable for her. Five Elements Academy celebrated; their single‑element philosophy now had empirical backing. Strength Clan and others, however, dismissed the data as incomplete, unwilling to accept that a child's statistics could overturn centuries of practice.
A Method, Not a Miracle
Yu Xiaogang's work did not promise miracles. He had cataloged patterns, not guarantees. He focused on the most actionable category—evolution after absorbing specific spirit rings—and subdivided it: Beast Spirit versus Tool Spirit, ring attributes, ring ages, sequence patterns. He found that many evolutions followed predictable attribute sequences; with careful planning, targeted hunts, trades, or sect resources, one could tilt the odds.
Across the Douluo Continent, the heavenly curtain's revelation had done more than tell a story. It handed everyone a map: destiny could be studied, measured, and—if one was clever and relentless—nudged. The old certainties trembled. Ambition and strategy replaced fatalism, and every faction began to ask the same question: how far could they push a spirit's evolution if they controlled the rings and the attributes that shaped it.