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

Chapter 78 The Power of Faith
As the sun grew stronger, the temperature by the lake continued to rise.

At first, only a few weaker students quietly wiped the sweat from their brows and reluctantly left the group. Gradually, more and more people began to give in—their elegant school uniforms were soaked with sweat, and their delicate makeup began to smudge.

"Let's go, let's go. Didn't the teacher say that this tutor plays the zither by the lake every day? The sun is too strong today, we can come back another day when it's shady." A student wiped the sweat from his brow and turned to leave first.

These words, like a pebble thrown into still water, created ripples among the crowd. The trainees exchanged glances, their initial enthusiasm gradually replaced by hesitation.

"Hmph, I've listened for so long and haven't grasped even the slightest trick. I'm at level eight of innate soul power." A noble student flicked his slightly damp palm. "I think he has no interest in teaching at all; he's just enjoying himself. Let's go!"

As time went by, the number of people on the lakeside dwindled. Eventually, only a handful remained, some sitting cross-legged, others writing furiously, secretly memorizing the score that Feng Yao had played.

Ning Rongrong glanced around at the thinning crowd, a hint of disdain flashing in her glassy eyes. She knew better than anyone the astonishing power of Feng Yao's support abilities. Clearly, Feng Yao had also long seen through the restless nature of these noble scions.

A mocking smile played on her lips; she actually felt much more at peace. With the noisy onlookers gone, she could finally calm down and practice her ability to control her distractions.

Although Feng Yao played the zither with his eyes closed, every rustling of grass and the whispering of complaints within a hundred feet radius were vividly reflected in his mind. He could perceive every detail of the departing footsteps and the complaints, but he simply smiled at them.

True genius is like gold sifted from sand, requiring countless siftings. The path of cultivation has always been a solitary journey. Those students who cannot endure the sweltering heat or the monotony, no matter how talented, are destined to be forever barred from the ultimate path they choose.

How many of those Soul Masters who are already accustomed to acquiring Soul Skills from Soul Rings are willing to settle down and hone their Martial Soul skills day after day? With the temptation of easily obtaining powerful skills by hunting Soul Rings, who would be willing to spend a long time digging out the potential that belongs to their Martial Soul from its deepest depths?

Acquiring spirit rings and skills from spirit beasts is a natural progression. However, most spirit masters are overly obsessed with pursuing powerful spirit rings and skills, thus putting the cart before the horse—they spend their entire lives chasing after increasing their spirit power level, while neglecting the honing of their spirit arts.

It is this blind pursuit of spirit rings and spirit skills that has given rise to the so-called "limited style" versus "balanced style" debate. After all, even the titled Douluo at the pinnacle can only support nine spirit rings and six spirit bones—a mere fifteen skills. To expect to comprehensively balance attack, defense, speed, and other aspects is nothing short of a pipe dream.

In Feng Yao's cultivation philosophy, a true Soul Master is one who hones their harmony with their Martial Soul day after day, and deciphers the undeveloped techniques of their Martial Soul through countless battles. Only in this way can one wield their Martial Soul with unparalleled skill—attacking with the force of a thunderbolt, defending with an impenetrable fortress, controlling with an inescapable net, and letting all changes arise from the heart.

This is like the training of a peerless swordsman: his sword moves contain both fierce offensive and exquisite defensive techniques, with the transition between offense and defense flowing seamlessly. Unlike ordinary soul masters, who place all their hopes on fixed soul skills.

Feng Yao calmed his mind slightly, ceasing to ponder these cultivation philosophies, and focused all his attention back on the music. As he became more and more immersed, every detail of the surrounding environment appeared in his perception with astonishing clarity—the trembling of every leaf, the trajectory of every wisp of wind, even the breathing rhythm of the students in the distance, were all clearly visible.

"Strange," he mused to himself, "the crowds and noise today have actually sharpened my senses." His fingertips danced across the strings, producing a series of clear, melodious notes. "Perhaps it's because I'm too familiar with this place."

The thought flashed through his mind, and Feng Yao slightly adjusted his posture, narrowing his sensory range. He let the music guide his mental energy, but found nothing. Helpless, Feng Yao had no choice but to continue his cultivation. The whispers lingering in his mind had no effect on Feng Yao; on the contrary, they made his mind even clearer.

Time flies, and a year has passed in the blink of an eye. Feng Yao's figure still appears by the lake every day, and the music of his zither arrives as promised. However, today, his fingertips suddenly pause, and the strings produce a discordant tremor. Feng Yao abruptly opens his eyes, and his eyes, which are usually slightly closed, suddenly gleam with a sharp light.

A few scattered figures on the lakeside looked up simultaneously, their gazes filled with confusion as they stared at Feng Yao, who had suddenly stopped playing. They couldn't understand why their usually fluent and graceful instructor would so unusually halt his music today.

Feng Yao quietly sensed it, a hint of surprise rising in his heart—the bottleneck that had been blocking him for so long had been quietly broken through without him even noticing. Level sixty, a realm that was unattainable in the eyes of ordinary soul masters, was thus achieved naturally in the mysterious state of the melody blending with nature.

For the past year, Feng Yao and Qian Renxue have been diligently cultivating in the simulated training ground almost every day. As their soul power levels gradually approached each other, Feng Yao could clearly feel his cultivation speed increasing day by day—Qian Renxue's contribution was indispensable. However, previous breakthroughs had often come naturally during the meditation after cultivation.

At this moment, Feng Yao sat quietly by the lake, letting the gentle breeze caress his face. Scenes from the past year flashed through his mind: a leap of five levels from level fifty-five to level sixty. However, he never expected that this final, major bottleneck would be broken through so naturally during the most ordinary moment of playing the zither.

"That mysterious feeling is becoming clearer. What exactly is it?" Feng Yao stared at the lake, pondering to himself. As his soul power increased, his spiritual energy radiated outwards daily with the music of the zither, and Feng Yao sensed a faint but powerful force.

"I'll ask Xue'er later. It's time to think about the soul rings too," Feng Yao thought to himself.

"Xiao Feng, what happened?" Ning Rongrong approached with light, lotus-like steps, her glassy eyes filled with concern. After spending a year together, Ning Rongrong gradually let go of her hostility towards Feng Yao after understanding his attitude.

Feng Yao snapped out of his thoughts and smiled calmly at her: "It's nothing. It was just that while playing the zither just now," his fingertips lightly caressing the strings, "that I gained some insights."

Feng Yao lightly stroked the strings with his fingertips, and after a brief pause, a melodious tune flowed out once more. This time, the sound of the zither had a greater sense of clarity than before, as if the breakthrough had made the music more harmonious and free.

The sun shone brightly in the sky. As always, Feng Yao gently stroked the body of the "Fuxi" zither, then gracefully rose. He looked at the students preparing to leave, his voice flowing like a clear spring: "You need not come again in the next few days." His white robe fluttered in the breeze. "I need to leave the academy for a while."

Upon hearing this, the students spontaneously stopped and bowed. The sunlight cast long shadows, and their unified voices echoed along the lakeside: "We humbly obey the teachings of our Wind Master."

Upon hearing this, Ning Rongrong's pupils contracted sharply, and her chest heaved violently as if struck by lightning. Her lips trembled slightly: "You've broken through to the Soul Emperor realm?" Her voice was filled with disbelief.

Feng Yao's lips curled slightly, and his fingertips lightly touched the strings of his zither, producing a clear and melodious vibrato: "Hmm, it just happened naturally." His tone was as calm as if he were discussing the weather today.

Ning Rongrong stood there, a terrifying thought flashing through her mind—just how many years of time had this monstrous fifth soul ring absorbed?
Seeing her lost in thought, Feng Yao chuckled softly, picked up "Fuxi," and turned around: "You can take a short rest during this time." His voice drifted on the wind as his robes fluttered, "Farewell." Ning Rongrong's long eyelashes trembled slightly, and she snapped back to reality. She nodded slightly, a lingering shock still shimmering in her glassy eyes.

Feng Yao stepped onto the gilded carriage. The moment the curtains fell, the bustling street scene of Tian Dou City was shut out. Four snow-white horses neighed and galloped towards the majestic imperial palace as the wheels rolled over the bluestone road.

Feng Yao walked calmly to the main gate of the palace. With a flick of his finger, a gilded token gleamed in the sunlight. The guards immediately bowed, and a servant bowed to lead the way. After passing through numerous palaces, they soon arrived at the Crown Prince's Eastern Palace.

When the servant led Feng Yao to the study, Qian Renxue was languidly leaning on a soft couch, reviewing memorials. In her own little world, she rarely let go of her usual dignified composure. Seeing Feng Yao enter, she looked up in surprise, her golden eyes sparkling with delight: "What brings you here today?" She casually placed her quill pen beside the inkstone, her long, gilded hair cascading down like a waterfall.

Feng Yao's eyes flickered slightly as he recalled the purpose of his visit. A barely perceptible hint of guilt flashed in his eyes, but he didn't directly state his intentions. A slight smile played on his lips, his voice as gentle as a spring breeze caressing willow branches: "I've noticed you're usually very busy with official duties." His fingertips subtly traced the pile of memorials on her desk. "From now on, I'll definitely come to bother you often."

Qian Renxue's golden eyes flickered slightly, instantly understanding the concern in Feng Yao's words. She gently grasped Feng Yao's wrist with her slender fingers, her voice as gentle as melting snow: "It's alright." Her fingertips lightly traced his palm. "Now that I'm on a mission, your frequent visits would only arouse suspicion and hinder your cultivation." Her long, flowing golden hair cascaded over her shoulders. "We can meet at the simulated training ground tonight."

Feng Yao's lips curled into a mysterious smile as he leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "Then I'll give you a surprise."

Qian Renxue's golden eyes suddenly lit up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck: "Say it quickly~" Her voice trailed off with a sweet, coquettish tone.

"While I was playing the zither just now, I broke through to level fifty-nine," his warm breath brushing against her earlobe, "and I've already broken through to the Soul Emperor realm."

Qian Renxue's golden eyes shone like stars, unable to hide her shock: "Breaking through five levels in a year? This speed..." Her jade fingers unconsciously tightened around his clothes.

Feng Yao took her soft hand and kissed it gently: "It's all thanks to you, Xue'er." He traced the pulse beating on her wrist with his fingertips, "The deeper the resonance of our soul power, the closer our soul power levels become, the faster my cultivation speed increases."

“In that case,” Qian Renxue suddenly leaned in, her nose almost touching his, “how will you thank me?”

Feng Yao chuckled softly, his breath mingling as he whispered, "How about... repaying me with your body?"

"Granted." She parted her lips slightly, her breath sweet as orchids.

Their eyes met, and they suddenly smiled at each other. A gentle light welled up in Qian Renxue's golden eyes, while a rare tenderness rippled in Feng Yao's. At that moment, all words were transformed into a silent understanding, with only their laughter echoing softly in the study.

Feng Yao gently cupped Qian Renxue's pretty face and whispered, "How is the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School doing lately?"

Mentioning this matter, Qian Renxue's lips curled into a confident smile: "That old fox Ning Fengzhi started contacting the Heavenly Dou Martial Soul Temple a year ago." She slowly stepped away, picked up her gilded teacup, and took a sip. "The overt and covert support over the past year has been considerable." The tea reflected in her all-knowing golden eyes. "Though not openly, their attitude is clear."

Feng Yao chuckled lightly, his fingertips tracing the rim of the teacup. "This is nothing more than the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School's life-saving money." A hint of mockery flashed in his eyes. "That old fox Ning Fengzhi never acts without a sure thing." He picked up his teacup and took a sip. "Just a support-type sect," he said, a slight smile playing on his lips, "in the end, they won't cause any real trouble."

Qian Renxue nodded slightly, her long, flowing golden hair swaying gently with the movement: "However, for you right now, finding a suitable spirit ring is indeed difficult."

Feng Yao gently stroked her loose hair with his fingertips, his voice low: "I already have a goal. However..." He frowned slightly, "There's something I don't understand about cultivation." When he looked up, his eyes held a rare look of confusion.

Qian Renxue raised an eyebrow, her golden eyes sparkling with amusement: "Oh? Our youngest Soul Emperor, Grand Instructor Feng, actually has a time to seek your guidance?" She lightly poked his chest with her fingertip.

Feng Yao caught her mischievous hand and kissed her palm: "Then Xue'er, aren't you the youngest Soul Saint?" His voice carried an unusual fawning tone.

"Smooth-talking~" Qian Renxue withdrew her hand, but couldn't hide the smile on her lips. "Tell me, I may not know." A mischievous smile appeared on her lips.

Feng Yao summoned "Fuxi," his fingertips unconsciously caressing the strings of the zither, his voice as soft as a whisper: "As my cultivation advances, I can always sense a faint, mysterious power when playing the zither." He frowned slightly, "It seems both real and illusory, elusive and hard to grasp."

Qian Renxue's gaze sharpened, and she pondered, "It only appears when you play the zither? Did you sense it during your nighttime cultivation?"

“Only when playing the zither,” Feng Yao nodded, “when spiritual energy flows with the music, resonating with heaven and earth, that power quietly emerges.”

"Only when playing the zither can one perceive..." Qian Renxue's golden eyes narrowed slightly, her fingertips unconsciously tapping lightly on the table.

Suddenly, the scene from the opening ceremony flashed through her mind—kingfishers perched on her shoulders, blue and silver blossoms bloomed, and thousands of students were mesmerized. A startling guess exploded like a thunderclap: Could it be that Xiao Feng had unwittingly embarked on the path of her ancestors?

Qian Renxue suddenly grasped his wrist, her golden eyes flashing with astonishing light: "Xiao Feng!" Her voice trembled slightly with excitement, "What you sensed was the power of faith!"

(End of this chapter)