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

Chapter 5 Unique Cultivation

"classmate."

Feng Yao was about to enter the cafeteria when a low voice suddenly called out from behind him. He slowed his pace and turned to see a middle-aged man with a buzz cut staring at him. He had his hands clasped behind his back, a look of decadence and melancholy between his brows. The little tail beside him was none other than Tang San, whom he had met that morning.

Feng Yao raised his eyebrows in a puzzled manner: "Are you calling me?"

Yu Xiaogang seemed to have not yet fully recovered, and he walked slowly towards Feng Yao. Tang San introduced him at the right time: "We met this morning. This is my teacher."

"You can call me Master." Yu Xiaogang's voice was soft, yet tinged with a distinct sense of pride. His slightly sickly eyes gleamed with a strong desire for knowledge.

Feng Yao bowed politely with just the right smile on his face: "My name is Feng Yao." His eyes wandered between the two of them imperceptibly, noticing that although Tang San stood respectfully aside, he was always looking at Feng Yao with curiosity.

Yu Xiaogang forced a smile on his slightly stiff face, and said in a low and gentle voice: "Mr. Feng, can we chat?"

A hint of doubt flashed across Feng Yao's eyes, and after a slight hesitation, he nodded: "Of course."

"Let's go," Yu Xiaogang said softly, then walked towards the cafeteria with his hands behind his back. Tang San naturally followed his teacher's footsteps, not forgetting to look back at Feng Yao before leaving.

Feng Yao frowned slightly, looking at Yu Xiaogang's pretentious back, a hint of disdain curling up at the corner of his mouth. Over thirty years of experience in his previous life allowed him to see through such pretense at a glance, but he was no child.

The voices in the cafeteria gradually became clearer. Feng Yao followed slowly behind, his eyes sweeping over the students who were eating. The meals on the first floor were simpler, mostly occupied by part-time students, while the second floor was filled with the faint aroma of richer food.

At this time, Yu Xiaogang had already slowly climbed the stairs, preparing to go to the second floor. Tang San hesitated for a moment and whispered, "Teacher, how about I not go up?"

Yu Xiaogang turned around and glanced at Tang San, then said gently, "Come up together, it will be good for you to listen."

The three of them arrived on the second floor, and Yu Xiaogang chose a quiet corner by the window to sit down. Tang San expertly poured a cup of hot tea for his teacher, the aroma of the tea rising in curls, condensing into mist under the light.

"I like tea, too," Yu Xiaogang took a sip and looked at Feng Yao through the tea mist. "I've also heard of Feng."

Feng Yao humbly waved his hand: "It's just an empty reputation, just a means of making a living."

"Mr. Feng," Yu Xiaogang put down his teacup, a glint in his eyes, "Have you ever thought about what kind of spirit ring you should choose for your martial spirit?"

Feng Yao smiled slightly, with a bit of helplessness in his tone: "I am a commoner, so I still need to rely on my luck to get a spirit ring."

Yu Xiaogang picked up the teacup and looked at Feng Yao carefully: "If you are willing, I can teach you to cultivate your martial soul." Yu Xiaogang tried his best to make his voice sound friendly.

Feng Yao looked at Yu Xiaogang with a hint of surprise, a hint of barely perceptible disdain flashing through his eyes. He asked calmly, "Master, what kind of soul master do you think I should become?"

Yu Xiaogang confidently lifted his teacup and slowly delivered his prepared remarks: "Neither the sound of the zither nor the music itself is suitable for direct combat. While zither music does have the ability to influence emotions and has some potential for development in the control category, the time required to complete a piece is too long, making it impractical in the ever-changing battles. The most suitable role is the support category. With the protection of your teammates, your abilities can be fully utilized."

Tang San, who was standing aside, heard this and nodded thoughtfully.

A flash of understanding flashed in Feng Yao's eyes. Recalling their previous encounter, he was certain his music had some special effect on Tang San. Yu Xiaogang's purpose at this moment was also clear: he hoped to pursue a supportive role and help Tang San grow.

Feng Yao shook his head slightly, and this action made Yu Xiaogang's stiff face show obvious surprise: "Mr. Feng has a different opinion?"

"Qin Yin might not be unable to go the offensive route," Feng Yao looked directly into Yu Xiaogang's eyes, "often invisible forces are the most deadly."

"Naive." Yu Xiaogang scoffed inwardly, but remained patient. "Mr. Feng, you're right. But you've overlooked one crucial point—no matter what martial spirit, to unleash its full power, it must be backed by a strong soul force, and you don't possess this condition."

Feng Yao smiled calmly: "Perhaps you are right. My innate soul power is only level four, but my friends will not accompany me for my whole life, and I don't want to rely on others for my whole life. I still hope to have the power to protect myself, no matter how big or small."

Yu Xiaogang fell silent upon hearing this. He wanted to rebuke Feng Yao's wishful thinking—how could he, with only a fourth-level innate soul power, claim to control his own destiny? But when the words reached his lips, he couldn't bring himself to speak.

Nearing fifty, hadn't he relied on this same persistence to persevere all these years? If he denied the young man before him, wouldn't that be tantamount to denying himself, who had spent most of his life fighting against fate?

Seeing Yu Xiaogang remain silent, Feng Yao chuckled and said, "If the master is interested in my piano skills, you can go to the teahouse to support me. I will play in the teahouse every afternoon during my nap."

Yu Xiaogang slowly stood up, his face, always stiff, showing no emotion. He turned and left in silence.

"Teacher," Tang San quickly stood up and looked at Feng Yao with a slightly apologetic look: "I'm really sorry, classmate Feng." Feng Yao smiled calmly: "It's okay, a gentleman should be harmonious but different." He picked up the teacup and took a sip, his eyes as calm as water.

Tang San hurriedly chased after them, leaving Feng Yao sitting alone. Gazing at the retreating figures of the master and disciple, Feng Yao shook his head and laughed, a thoughtful look flashing in his eyes.

At this time, the waiter brought the carefully prepared dishes one by one. Feng Yao did not hesitate to pick up the bamboo chopsticks and tasted them slowly and leisurely.

"Well, it tastes good, but it's still not as good as the food in Manager Bining's teahouse." Feng Yao commented with a chuckle.

After a hearty meal, Feng Yao strolled along the tree-lined path of Notting College. As dusk fell, the early spring breeze still carried a hint of coolness, but it couldn't dispel the lingering thoughts in his mind.

While Yu Xiaogang's words had the usual arbitrariness of a theoretical master, they weren't entirely without merit. Feng Yao was well aware that many of this "master's" theories contained flaws, even plagiarism. But objectively speaking, his analysis of the direction of development for the Qin martial spirit was indeed spot-on.

"Strong attack," Feng Yao muttered softly to himself, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the air like plucking invisible strings. If one chooses this path, the first thing to overcome is the fatal flaw of insufficient soul power. While the advantage of a zither attack lies in its swiftness and invisibility, the very nature of sound waves dictates that they attenuate with distance and obstacles. To inflict substantial damage, one must possess a vast reserve of soul power far exceeding that of a soul master of the same level.

Moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Feng Yao paused and gazed up at the starry sky. A bold idea gradually crystallized in his mind: drawing on the philosophy of spirit masters from ten thousand years later, he would develop all spirit rings to maximize their spirit power. This would not only grant a spirit power far superior to that of spirit masters of the same level, but this single, extreme approach could even compensate for the lack of innate spirit power to a certain extent.

"But..." Feng Yao frowned slightly. This plan had an obvious drawback - all the spirit ring positions were occupied by spirit power amplification, which meant that he had to create all the attack methods himself. It was like holding a peerless zither and having to create all the music himself.

"Let's give it a try. With my current level four soul power, I should be able to make a certain impact even on a child." Feng Yao whispered to himself, his eyes flashing with eagerness to try.

Upon returning to the dormitory, he immediately sat cross-legged on his bed and summoned his martial spirit, Fuxi. His slender fingers gently stroked the strings of his zither, and as his spirit power infused them, a faint blue light shone on the instrument.

"Ding!" A crisp, high-pitched sound echoed through the room. Feng Yao suddenly felt an inexplicable surge of excitement, his eyes lighting up. "High-pitched sounds have a small amplitude but a high frequency. The diaphragm is lightweight and vibrates quickly, producing delicate sounds. When combined with soul power, the high-frequency sound waves can stimulate the nervous system, producing a stimulating effect."

But he soon frowned again: "Unfortunately, the duration of a single tone is too short, and it is not practical in actual combat. So, what about the bass?"

With this thought, Feng Yao suddenly increased his soul power output. "Buzz—" A dull bass sound suddenly exploded, shaking the air in the entire room. Due to their close proximity, the strong backlash of the sound waves made Feng Yao instantly dizzy, his chest tight, and he almost fell off the bed.

"Cough, cough, cough." He held his forehead and took a long time to regain consciousness, but his eyes were shining with excitement. "Bass has a large amplitude and low frequency, which can cause more air vibration. Strong low frequencies can not only cause dizziness, but if the soul power is sufficient, it can even shatter the cochlea and affect the internal organs."

Feng Yao stared at the seven-stringed zither in his hand, and an unprecedented idea gradually became clear in his mind: "If I can accurately control the combination of high and low notes, and let different targets hear different melodies according to changes in distance and environment, I may become the first truly all-round soul master in the history of Douluo Continent." His fingertips gently stroked the strings, and soul power was injected like a trickle. The sound of the zither flowed between high and low, like a stream under the moonlight, sometimes turbulent, sometimes soothing.

"It can not only amplify friendly forces, but also specifically control or attack enemies, and even trigger musical resonance." Feng Yao's eyes gleamed with wisdom. "The essence of sound is energy, and the degree of exquisite energy control will determine the heights I can reach."

He slowly lay down, his palm unconsciously rubbing his chest which was still a little stuffy. Suddenly, he paused and his eyes fell on his chest.

"High notes affect the nervous system, and low notes can resonate with the internal organs. So, is it possible to use the sound of the piano to temper myself?" This thought flashed through his mind like lightning.

Memories of past lives flooded back like a tide—the guqin's five notes correspond to the five internal organs. Jiao connects to the liver, Zhi to the heart, Gong to the spleen, Shang to the lungs, and Yu to the kidneys. The ancients even used music to regulate their bodies and heal illnesses.

"Tang San's Xuan Tian Gong opens up the meridians through the circulation of soul power. And the invisible power of music may be able to achieve higher efficiency?" Feng Yao's eyes suddenly lit up, like the brightest stars in the night sky.

He sat up abruptly, summoned "Fuxi," and lightly plucked the strings with his fingertips. "Om—" A low, deep sound echoed through the room. He didn't use his soul power this time, but the deep bass still resonated strangely in his chest, as if his entire internal organs were vibrating subtly with the sound waves.

Feng Yao held his breath, sensing the subtle changes within him. Moonlight filtered through the window lattice, casting dappled shadows on his focused face. At that moment, he seemed to have grasped a cultivation method that transcended his time, a unique path that belonged only to him.

Feng Yao's slender fingers moved relentlessly across the strings, like a meticulous tuner, searching for the melody that resonated perfectly with his body. As a master musician with profound musical attainments, his keen musical sense quickly captured that delicate balance—when the zither's sound resonated harmoniously with the vibrations of his internal organs, a strange warmth began to flow through his meridians.

At this moment, Feng Yao's cultivation system formed a perfect closed loop: as he played, his soul power, like a trickle of water, tempered his martial soul, "Fuxi"; while the unique vibrations generated by the sound of the zither, in turn, tempered his body. This two-way strengthening process continued until his soul power was exhausted, at which point he naturally transitioned into a meditative state of recovery.

This unique practice is imbued with Feng Yao's personal wisdom. It's based on the mysterious relationship between music and the human body, requiring precise control of the force, frequency, and duration of each note. Like a custom-made garment, only Feng Yao can perfectly master every detail—from breathing rhythm to finger pressure, from soul power output to musical choice. This highly personalized practice, destined to avoid widespread dissemination like meditation or Xuantian Gong, is precisely the path that best suits Feng Yao's growth.

When the last wisp of soul power was exhausted, Feng Yao slowly opened his eyes, a look of unsatisfied satisfaction appearing on his face. He gently stroked the strings, feeling the subtle vibrations from his fingertips, as if he could still hear the mysterious resonance reverberating within his body.

Without a moment's hesitation, Feng Yao retracted Fuxi into his body. As his martial spirit dissipated, the lingering sound of the zither lingered in the room. He sat cross-legged, his hands resting naturally on his knees, and slowly closed his eyes. His breathing gradually became long and even, each inhalation and exhalation seeming to harmonize with the rhythm of heaven and earth. He pictured Fuxi in his mind.

Whether it was an illusion or not, Feng Yao felt that after the recent musical training, his body's affinity with the energy of heaven and earth seemed to have increased slightly. This subtle change made the corners of his mouth curl up slightly, but he quickly calmed down and immersed himself in meditation.

Outside the window, the night wind gently blows the treetops, making a rustling sound, as if playing a lullaby for this unique boy.

(End of this chapter)