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

Chapter 6: The Heart

The next morning, when the first ray of morning sun climbed up the window lattice, Feng Yao slowly woke up from deep meditation.

He carefully felt the flow of soul power within him, and a satisfied smile unconsciously curved his lips. Compared to yesterday's meditation, the effect of this meditation was significantly improved—the soul power in his meridians was more condensed, and the flow was smoother.

"The wisdom left by our ancestors is truly extraordinary," Feng Yao sighed softly, his fingertips unconsciously tapping against his knees, as if simulating the vibrations of a zither string. He believed that as long as he persevered in perfecting this training method, once his mental and soul power control reached a certain level, he might be able to achieve the goal envisioned by Tang San's Xuantian Gong: "Open the Eight Extraordinary Meridians, and be omnipotent in heaven and earth."

After a quick wash, Feng Yao couldn't wait to call upon "Fuxi." A deep zither note soon filled the room, resonating with his breathing in a unique rhythm. As his practice deepened, beads of sweat gradually formed on his forehead, and his once abundant soul power dwindled like the ebbing tide.

“Gurgle.”

The protests from his stomach interrupted his practice. Feng Yao realized that his intense concentration had made him lose track of time. The intense hunger forced him to ignore his soul power and rush straight to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was exceptionally quiet in the early morning. It seemed that no matter which world they were in, students didn't like getting up early to eat. Feng Yao was about to go upstairs when he suddenly heard a familiar greeting:
"Morning, Feng."

Turning around, he saw Tang San sitting alone in a corner on the first floor, a simple breakfast in front of him. Sunlight streamed through the window onto his Blue Silver Grass Martial Spirit, casting a brilliant green light.

"Good morning, classmate Tang." Feng Yao smiled and nodded, his gaze lingering on Tang San's slightly tired face for a moment. Then he slowly went upstairs.

Feng Yao's eyes flickered to the ordinary figure downstairs, and he thought to himself, "Since the sound of the zither alone can aid in cultivation, then what effect did yesterday's piece of music have on him..."

The aroma of food wafting from the second-floor restaurant and the hunger in his stomach quickly dispelled Feng Yao's thoughts. Without giving it much thought, he took a deep breath and turned his attention to the nearby cafeteria window. After all, sufficient physical strength was the key to continuing his cultivation.

After a hearty meal, Feng Yao's tiny spiritual power had largely recovered, and he strolled back to the place where he had practiced yesterday. The morning dew had not yet dried, and glistening water droplets clung to the tips of leaves, reflecting a rainbow of colors in the morning sun, like scattered gems.

He found a flat bluestone and sat down, his fingertips gently stroking the strings of his zither. The sound of the zither rose leisurely, as clear as a mountain stream and as graceful as the morning breeze through the forest, interweaving with the rustling of leaves around him to form a natural symphony. Little did he know, deep in the woods, a pair of sharp eyes were quietly observing his every move.

"Change the tune." Tang San, tucked in the shadows, frowned slightly. He slowly sat cross-legged, trying to enter that profound meditative state again through the sound of the zither. However, no matter how he adjusted his breathing, he couldn't recapture the feeling of being one with nature that he had yesterday.

The zither music gradually died down, and Tang San opened his eyes, a look of confusion on his young face. "His zither music clearly still has the effect of calming the mind, why..." He thought to himself, "Teacher said that yesterday, it was the specific environment under which the zither music led me into deep meditation. But why not today?"

Careful Tang San noticed that Feng Yao's performance today was indeed subtly different from yesterday's—in certain unique syllables, he deliberately injected soul power to make the sound of the zither produce a subtle vibration. Although this change was small, it made the effect of the entire piece completely different.

"Is it just because the music changed?" Tang San shook his head, feeling that things were more complicated than that. He looked at Feng Yao, who was concentrating on playing the zither in the distance, a complex look flashed in his eyes. This peer seemed to be hiding too many secrets that he couldn't understand.

"It seems I still have to ask the teacher for advice." Tang San shook his head slightly, a hint of thought flashing in his eyes.

Thinking of this, Tang San flashed and used the Ghost Shadow Step to silently move towards Yu Xiaogang's courtyard. In the morning light, his figure shuttled through the woods like a ghost, and in the blink of an eye, he disappeared into the depths of the bamboo forest.

Feng Yao was completely oblivious to all this. He remained absorbed in the artistic conception of the zither music, his ten fingers dancing lightly across the strings. He used every bit of his spiritual energy with meticulous calculation, like a miser counting his last penny. He carefully considered the spiritual energy required for each note, striving to achieve the best effect with the least expenditure.

Feng Yao sighed helplessly. He longed to play to his heart's content, but with his current spiritual energy reserves, if he exerted all his might, he'd probably be exhausted before even finishing a single piece. This feeling of being restricted, like being bound by invisible shackles, left him feeling both suffocated and helpless.

With this thought, Feng Yao's fingertips danced more intently on the strings. Every note was imbued with his understanding of music. The sound sometimes flowed like a clear spring, sometimes like the sound of pine waves. With the blessing of his soul power, it even subtly attracted the surrounding air currents, causing the grass on the ground to sway gently.

It was midday, and the scorching sun had already evaporated the morning dew from the grass. Feng Yao lay on his back on the soft grass, letting the breeze caress his face. He raised his hand, and the sunlight filtered through his fingers, casting a dappled shadow on his palm. Watching this scene, a satisfied smile curled up at the corner of his mouth.

"With this extraordinary power, soul power, things are really different," Feng Yao whispered to himself. "At this rate, I will soon surpass the peak level of my previous life."

Nourished by his soul power, he clearly felt a world away from his past. His playing reached an unprecedented state of focus, his fingering exquisite, each note seeming to come alive. Even more remarkable, he seemed to be able to vaguely sense the state of his martial spirit, Fuxi—a kind of blood connection, as if he could hear its "breathing."

Feng Yao closed his eyes and let this mysterious perception flow through his body.

After an unknown amount of time, Feng Yao suddenly opened his eyes, with a gleam in his eyes, as if he had suddenly realized some truth.

"So that's how it is. So that's how it is," he murmured, his voice trembling slightly with excitement. "What kind of martial soul is it? Martial soul is just a name given by the soul master. Its essence is the embodiment of the soul master's bloodline power!"

This realization split the fog like a bolt of lightning. Feng Yao finally understood why Ji Juechen could achieve Titled Douluo status despite his relatively low innate spirit power—the key lay in the consistent use of spirit power to refine his martial soul, essentially strengthening his own bloodline. The role of spirit rings simply accelerated this virtuous cycle; spirit rings and spirit bones were, in essence, manifestations of the power of a spirit beast's bloodline.

"As long as they continue to hone their martial souls and themselves during their growth stages, most soul masters should achieve something." Feng Yao muttered to himself, "The saying 'there are no useless martial souls, only useless soul masters' is truly true. It's just that most people don't realize it because most people don't know the true nature of martial souls."

Thinking of this, Feng Yao couldn't help but feel sorry for Yu Xiaogang. His efforts were arguably no less than Ji Juechen's. But this "master" had completely taken the wrong path, overly superstitious about the decisiveness of innate soul power while ignoring the role of acquired cultivation in shaping bloodlines. He had wasted his prime years on theoretical research, missing the perfect opportunity to change his destiny.

The fact that he cultivated to the twenty-ninth level with the innate half-level soul power was enough to prove the extent of his efforts.

Sunlight bathed Feng Yao, casting a golden outline around him. He raised his hand and summoned Fuxi, his fingertips gently stroking the strings, feeling the seamless connection between his martial spirit and his bloodline. At that moment, he was more certain than ever that he was on the right path. "If someone like Yu Xiaogang dares to call himself a master, then shouldn't I be called a god?" Feng Yao chuckled inwardly, shaking his head slightly.

He looked up at the sun, then stood up and brushed off the grass debris on his robe. He'd taken leave yesterday to handle enrollment matters, and today, after lunch, he had to go to Manager Ning's teahouse to perform. With this in mind, he put away his Fuxi and headed towards the cafeteria.

The first day of school at Notting College was bustling with activity. Before even reaching the cafeteria, Feng Yao could hear the clamor coming from inside. He headed straight up to the second floor, which was much quieter than the first. After casually ordering a few dishes, Feng Yao chose a quiet corner to sit down and wait.

"Mr. Feng, do you mind if I sit here?"

A slightly hoarse voice suddenly sounded. Feng Yao looked up and saw Yu Xiaogang standing in front of the table, trying hard to force a gentle smile.

Feng Yao was slightly startled, his gaze lingering on Yu Xiaogang's wrinkled face for a moment, a subtle flicker of regret in his eyes. He thought to himself: If this "master" could truly change fate, Bibi Dong, the Spirit Hall's Pope, would probably be in his clutches. After all, a beast spirit that could materialize was already rare, let alone a genuine dragon spirit.

But on second thought, fortune and misfortune go hand in hand. If Yu Xiaogang had truly achieved something, the subsequent golden triangle would probably not have existed.

"Mr. Feng?" Yu Xiaogang called out again when he saw Feng Yao was in a trance.

"Of course." Feng Yao came back to his senses and made a gesture of invitation, "Master, what can I do for you?"

Yu Xiaogang pondered for a moment and said slowly, "Is Feng going to the teahouse to perform later?"

Feng Yao looked surprised and nodded, "Indeed. Master, this is..."

"I'd like to ask Feng for a favor." Yu Xiaogang's voice lowered a little as he gently stroked the edge of the teacup.

Feng Yao's eyes flashed with understanding, and he smiled and said, "Please tell me, I will definitely help you to the best of my ability."

"When you perform in the teahouse today, can you play the song you played when you met Xiao San?" Yu Xiaogang said softly.

Feng Yao shook his head slightly. "You're talking about 'Yangchun Baixue', right? I'm sorry. The music played in teahouses is always determined by the audience's preferences." He paused and asked with feigned curiosity, "Could it be that the piece played yesterday had some special effect on Tang?"

Yu Xiaogang frowned slightly, then nodded slowly after a moment of silence. "It does have some special effects. That's why I suggest you go the support route. You have a unique talent for support."

Feng Yao sneered inwardly. He knew Yu Xiaogang's intentions perfectly well—he simply saw how his zither skills could benefit Tang San and wanted to find a free slave.

"Master, there's no need to persuade me." Feng Yao elegantly picked up the teacup. "No matter how good your auxiliary talent is, it can't compare to the power of self-preservation. If you want to listen to "Yangchun Baixue", you might as well go to Manager Ning's teahouse. As long as you have enough gold coins, I will perform for you."

At this moment, the waiter placed the dishes on the table one by one. Feng Yao stopped talking and focused on enjoying his lunch.

Yu Xiaogang's expression grew increasingly gloomy, his brows furrowed in a frown. He hadn't expected this seemingly innocent boy to be so difficult to deal with. After a long silence, he finally spoke: "Well, as long as you're willing to cooperate with my arrangements, I can be responsible for your future spirit ring acquisition. How do you do it?"

Feng Yao paused for a moment with his chopsticks in his hand, then chuckled and shook his head: "You see, this is why I chose the offensive system - even the choice of spirit rings depends on others."

Yu Xiaogang shook his head, thinking he was just an ignorant country boy after all. He said with a pretentious tone, "Even for offensive spirit masters, most people can't get the best spirit ring configuration. But if you follow my instructions, I can guarantee that each of your spirit rings will be the most suitable."

Feng Yao raised his eyes and looked at Yu Xiaogang with a smile, his eyes seemed to penetrate people's hearts: "Master, although I come from the countryside, I also know that there is no free lunch in the world. What exactly do you want me to do? It can't be just to listen to a song of "Yangchun Baixue"? "

Yu Xiaogang was speechless, and silence fell between them like a heavy curtain. Feng Yao continued to eat slowly, and after a while, he said vaguely, "Master, don't you want to eat something with us?"

Yu Xiaogang slowly stood up, walked to a nearby window, bought chicken legs and steamed buns, wrapped them in oil paper, and left in a hurry.

Looking at the receding figure, Feng Yao's eyes flashed with contempt, and he sneered in his heart: "He really thinks he's such a big shot, and he even ordered a song."

Feng Yao ate very happily. Yu Xiaogang's arrival did not affect Feng Yao's appetite at all. If Yu Xiaogang was more honest, it would be easy for him to play a few songs. He could just treat it as a good relationship. But if he wanted to play tricks on him,
Feng Yao put down his chopsticks. The sunlight shone through the window onto his slightly furrowed brows, giving his childish face a sneer that was inconsistent with his age.

Feng Yao then stood up and left the cafeteria, heading straight for the dormitory. The sunlight filtered through the sycamore trees lining the avenue, casting dappled shadows on him. Feng Yao thought for a moment. Although he wasn't afraid of Yu Xiaogang playing tricks on him, he still felt it was a waste of time.

"Instead of wasting time here, I should focus on my cultivation. How about staying with Manager Ning? But Manager Ning is from the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect, and it's hard to repay this favor," Feng Yao muttered to himself, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the purse at his waist. Manager Ning's compensation was generous enough to support him staying in the hotel for a long time, but the hotel environment was not suitable for cultivation.

"Forget it, I'd better go to work for Manager Ning first. Maybe he will give up when he sees the difficulty." Feng Yao murmured, and then Feng Yao headed out of the school.

(End of this chapter)