Douluo: When the piano sounds, the hidden weapon returns to the factory

Chapter 2 Qin and Gua

Feng Yao slowly placed his hand on the transparent crystal ball. As the young man injected his soul power, Feng Yao instantly felt a tremendous suction force coming from the crystal ball under his palm. At this time, an unfamiliar warmth also appeared in Feng Yao's body, flowing out from the palm of his hand along his arm and sinking into the crystal ball.

In just a moment, the crystal ball lit up and emitted a faint glow.

It seemed as if the young man had expected the crystal ball to light up and he was not too surprised.

Inside the wooden house, a faint blue light spread like ripples on water. The seven-stringed lyre in front of Feng Yao floated in the halo, its strings vibrating even without wind, as if resonating with the awakening array. The other children held their breath unconsciously, and in the corner, even the sound of a bamboo basket being knocked over could be heard—this was the brightest light they had seen that day.

The children who awakened together with Feng Yao all cast envious glances at him. Although they were still young, they all understood what the blue light meant - it was a symbol of soul power and the possibility of changing their destiny.

The young soul master looked at the blue light and was slightly startled. After a moment of silence, he slowly said: "With the fourth level of innate soul power, you can become a soul master."

"Level 4..." A low exclamation echoed from the cabin, and the children's eyes were filled with envy and disappointment. For them, level 4 innate soul power was already an unattainable dream.

A genuine smile spread across Feng Yao's face. He wasn't sure if this soul power came from his "old friend," the seven-stringed zither, from his past life, or from his daily practice of Ba Duan Jin in this life. Regardless, it meant he had taken a crucial step forward on this continent. At the very least, he had secured his ticket to the world of soul masters.

He smiled sweetly at the young man like an ordinary child, and his tone was filled with sincere gratitude: "Thank you, Soul Master."

The young man glanced at Feng Yao and did not respond to his thanks. He simply said, "Since you have awakened your soul power, you can go to the Junior Soul Master Academy to study."

Feng Yao nodded, unfazed by the young man's cold attitude. He knew full well that while level four innate spirit power was enough to qualify him as a spirit master, in the eyes of the Spirit Hall, such talent wasn't considered exceptional, and could even be considered mediocre. For the young spirit master before him, such a result would neither bring him any additional merit nor attract any attention.

As a teacher in his previous life, Feng Yao had seen many similar situations. He understood the young man's psychology perfectly—whether it was awakening a martial spirit or recruiting students, it was essentially a form of selection. No teacher would dislike a gifted student, and with his own innate spirit power, it was clearly not enough to be considered a "top student."

As for the Spirit Hall, it would not pay too much attention to a soul master whose innate soul power is only level four.

"The spring enrollment deadline for Notting College is on the Waking of Insects Day." After saying this, the young man took out a piece of paper from the package and issued an awakening certificate to Feng Yao, and handed it to Feng Yao casually.

"Thank you, Master Soul Master," Feng Yao thanked him again, his seven-stringed zither transforming into a stream of light and fading into his palm. He could read the sigh hidden in the arc of the young man's cloak as he turned, just like when he used to grade papers in the office and saw those papers that always passed.

There is never a shortage of mediocre people in this world. They are like the tips of bamboo shoots in spring, destined to become the stepping stones for others to ascend to heaven before they even break through the ground.

Feng Yao carefully folded the young man's awakening certificate and placed it in his arms. Meanwhile, the young man had already put the awakening array's formation stone and crystal ball into his bag. Without another word, he turned and left the cabin. His back stretched out in the setting sun, appearing particularly lonely.

After the crowd dispersed, Feng Yao stood alone in the center of the cabin, looking down at the faint traces left by the formation stones on the ground, lost in thought. Suddenly, a crystal-clear jade plate emerged from his left hand. It was engraved with mysterious patterns and emitted a faint halo. Feng Yao examined it carefully, a look of surprise on his face.

"The innate Bagua? Could it be that what my grandfather boasted about when I was a child was true?" Feng Yao muttered to himself, with a strange look on his face.

He recalled that his own name, "Yao," is one of the basic symbols that make up the Eight Trigrams. The surname "Feng" is said to have originated from Suiren, Fuxi's father. Fuxi took his father's surname, Feng, and is therefore considered one of the ancestors of the Feng surname. Even more coincidentally, the earliest guqin is also said to have been created by Fuxi. All of this seemed to be somehow connected.

"Feng kid..."

Shi Yi's call brought Feng Yao back to reality from his memories. He quickly put away the Bagua plate and walked out of the house with a hurried pace. It was obvious that Feng Yao couldn't wait to further study his martial spirit.

Walking out of the cabin, Feng Yao saw Shi Yi, leaning on a cane, approaching with a smile. The old man's eyes were kind and warm, slowly falling on Feng Yao, and he said softly, "Congratulations, Feng boy. It's been a long time since we had a spirit master in Tingquan Village."

Feng Yao showed a childlike innocent smile on his face, and his tone was full of gratitude: "It is also thanks to you and the uncles' care, otherwise I would not be able to live until now."

Upon hearing this, Shi Yi slowly raised his hand and gently rubbed Feng Yao's head, his eyes full of satisfaction: "Good boy..."

"Grandpa Shi, I'll go back and pack my things first. Tomorrow I'll follow the uncles and aunts from the village who are going to the market to Notting City." Feng Yao said to Shi Yi with a smile, his eyes flashing with anticipation for the future.

Shi Yi nodded with a smile, his old face full of kindness, and said to Feng Yao with confidence: "Okay, Grandpa believes that you will have a bright future... Remember to come back and visit when you have time, go..."

"Goodbye, Grandpa." Feng Yao bowed slightly to Shi Yi, his tone filled with gratitude and reluctance.

"Hey..." Shi Yi was about to say something else when Feng Yao turned around and ran towards his hut with light steps, like a bird spreading its wings to fly.

Looking at Feng Yao's receding figure, Shi Yi smiled and shook his head, muttering in a low voice: "This child..."

Over the years, Feng Yao had hiked up the mountain daily, not only exercising his body but also collecting a wealth of mountain goods. Whatever he couldn't finish, he would go to the market with the villagers to sell, saving a small amount of silver. It wasn't much, but for a child, it was more than enough to maintain a basic life. Soon, Feng Yao returned to his cabin. This cabin was built for him by Shi Yi, who had gathered the villagers. Although it was small, with only one simple room, it was more than enough for Feng Yao.

Feng Yao sat on a stone bench in the courtyard, slowly raised his right hand, and with a thought, a seven-stringed zither appeared in his hand. He gently placed the zither on his legs, his fingertips brushing across the strings, and the familiar sound of the zither slowly flowed through the courtyard.

The melody of the zither is like a spring flowing through a valley, or a breeze blowing through a bamboo forest, with a soothing power. The melodious and graceful melody echoes in the air, as if bringing people into a world of tranquility and harmony.

Feng Yao knew every technique and every melody by heart. His fingertips danced across the strings, as if he were in dialogue with the instrument, or as if he were expressing his own thoughts. The sound of the piano gradually deepened, as if recalling the past and looking forward to the infinite possibilities of the future.

The melody of the zither, like the flow of a clear spring or the gentle breeze, gradually attracted the nearby villagers. They put down their work and gathered outside Feng Yao's courtyard, following the sound of the zither, with surprise and joy on their faces.

"Feng the kid just awakened his martial spirit, and he got the hang of it so quickly. He plays the piano really well!" A villager couldn't help but exclaim in admiration, his eyes full of appreciation.

Feng Yao smiled faintly, but his hands never faltered. His fingertips danced lightly across the strings, as if becoming one with the instrument. As the last note slowly faded into the air, the surrounding villagers applauded, their cheers rising and falling.

"It sounds good! It sounds really good!"

"Of course not! In the city, only the nobles can hear this!"

"Feng boy, come again!"

Feng Yao, unfazed by the villagers' enthusiasm, nodded gently, his fingertips caressing the strings once more, and the melodious melody echoed through the courtyard once more. The villagers might not understand the mysteries of music, but Feng Yao's masterful technique allowed these simple folk to truly appreciate the beauty of music.

The sound of the zither, sometimes like the gurgling of a stream, sometimes like the rolling of pine trees, seemed to transport people to a peaceful and beautiful world. The villagers listened quietly, their faces filled with satisfied smiles. The sunlight bathed everyone's face, freezing this moment into a warm picture.

As night falls, Feng Yao no longer knows how to practice, so he can only go to bed early. In this world, there is not much entertainment, and there is no industrial pollution. Originally, the clean starry sky at night was Feng Yao's only entertainment. Fortunately, Feng Yao now has his own old friend. Lying on his bed, he looks through the window, quietly looking at the scattered moonlight, and Feng Yao's thoughts surge like a tide.

While his fourth-level innate soul power wasn't low, according to the Douluo Continent's cultivation rules, even if he gave it his all, he would only reach the Soul Emperor realm at best, perhaps even struggling to break through to the Soul King realm. Having come to this world, Feng Yao naturally wasn't willing to stop there. He longed to ascend to a higher peak, to experience what the world of the powerful truly held.

"Those with congenitally deficient weapon spirits can refer to Ji Juechen's cultivation method." Feng Yao murmured softly, and the image of the strong man in the original novel who made a living by using the sword emerged in his mind.

Feng Yao saw Ji Juechen's training method as profoundly scientific—constantly maintaining his martial soul's release, constantly tempering it with soul power, and allowing it to deeply merge with his soul power. This was similar to his previous life's guqin training: sufficient proficiency was the prerequisite for flawless performance. Only through constant practice, correcting every subtle error, could the completeness of his performance approach near perfection. And only when a performer truly experienced the emotion their predecessors poured into the music could they grasp their own unique potential.

Yin cannot grow alone, and yang cannot grow alone. If you only rely on the soul master to cultivate soul power and ignore the martial soul, you will not go far. Ji Juechen's cultivation method takes into account both the soul master and the martial soul.

"But..." Feng Yao raised his left hand, and the Xiantian Bagua Plate quietly emerged in his palm. The jade plate glowed faintly in the moonlight, its patterns mysterious and profound. "How do I use this thing?"

Feng Yao already had a clear plan for the order in which to cultivate his twin martial spirits. Compared to the Xiantian Bagua Plate, about which he knew very little, he decided to focus first on cultivating his "old friend"—the seven-stringed zither. After all, the zither was what he was most familiar with and the direction he had the most confidence in.

As for the Xiantian Bagua Plate, Feng Yao could only imagine developing it in the form of formations. He recalled the scene of his spirit awakening during the day, and was deeply impressed by the awakening formation formed by the formation stones. In the original novel, both the Haotian Sect and the Fengjian Sect had used formations that involved multiple people, suggesting that formations were real in this world and might even hold enormous potential.

"Perhaps, this innate Bagua plate is the key to my knowledge of formations..." Feng Yao whispered to himself, with a hint of expectation in his eyes.

Moonlight streamed down his face, casting a resolute expression. He knew the road ahead was filled with unknowns and challenges, but he was ready. Both his old friend and the Xiantian Bagua Plate would become the cornerstones of his journey to power. And tonight's reflections were only the first step on his journey.

With this in mind, Feng Yao slowly closed his eyes, knowing that from now on, he might never again have this much time to sleep peacefully. However, despite his efforts to relax, he couldn't fall asleep. The world of soul masters unfolded in his mind like a brilliant painting, stirring his heart and making it difficult to calm down.

"Nottingham..."

A year ago, Feng Yao had followed his uncles and aunts from the village to the market on a trip to the city. He was surprised to discover that his own village, Tingquan, was surprisingly close to the protagonist's birthplace. This discovery surprised and excited him, as if fate had already arranged some kind of magical connection for him.

At this thought, Feng Yao's lips curled up slightly, and an indescribable anticipation welled up in his heart. More than anything, it was curiosity. As a reader in his previous life, he had criticized and questioned the various plots in the original work. Now, he finally had the opportunity to witness it all with his own eyes, to verify the stories that had once existed only in words.

Feng Yao gazed at the stars outside the window. After an indeterminate amount of time, he yawned and rolled over in his bed, suppressing his excitement and anticipation. Gradually, his thoughts settled in the moonlight, and his breathing became steady and long. Although his heart was filled with longing and anticipation for the future, his exhausted body eventually lulled him into sleep.

It seemed that because he had successfully awakened his innate soul power, Feng Yao, who had let go of his inner burden, slept particularly soundly that night.

……

(End of this chapter)