Yu Xiaogang finally turned around.
His eyes were bloodshot, his expression distorted by grief, shame, and denial. Tears hung at the corners of his eyes, but stubborn pride still burned within them.
"San…" he said hoarsely. "My theories are never wrong."
That sentence was not a statement—it was a plea.
At this moment, Yu Xiaogang felt as if he had lost everything.
His dignity.his love, his family, his future.
All that remained to him was his theory of soul masters—the belief that had sustained him for decades, the foundation of his identity.
If that crumbled too… he would truly have nothing left.
With trembling hands and reddened eyes, he looked straight at Tang San.
"Tang San," he asked urgently, almost desperately, "you… you will prove that my theories aren't wrong, won't you?"
Tang San met his gaze without hesitation.
He nodded slowly.
"Yes," he said calmly. "With your theories, we will win the next Continental Elite Young Soul Master Competition."
Yu Xiaogang's breathing finally steadied.
It was as if a drowning man had grasped the last floating plank.
However—
While Tang San spoke with conviction outwardly, his thoughts were cold and precise.
'Teacher your identity and connection are you real strength... not your theory. Your connections are your real strength.'
'You couldn't retrieve my Eight Spider Lances', Tang San thought indifferently, 'but your weight in Bibi Dong's heart is still heavy enough.'
'Heavy enough that she once made several foolish, emotional decisions because of you. Teacher Yu Xiaogang…You are still useful.'
Tang San's gaze flickered slightly as his plans aligned.
'If not for the immortal herbs from the Yin Yang Ice Fire Well… Winning the competition would be borderline impossible. Shrek's foundation is simply not enough.'
'Next, I will take Father to the Yin Yang Ice Fire Well. Those immortal herbs belong to me.
Dugu Bo is merely a Level 91 Titled Douluo.'
With gentle words and a calm demeanor, Tang San successfully stabilized Yu Xiaogang's shattered heart—binding him once more with faith, pride, and dependence.
Yet—What Tang San did not know was that every step he took, every decision he justified as his own, was already part of a carefully laid path.
A script written long before he ever thought of stealing the Ice and Fire Yin Yang Well.
----
Heaven Dou City
Tang San walked steadily toward a five stories tall building that stood out even among the dense splendor of Heaven Dou City.
Unlike the gaudy pavilions favored by nouveau nobles, this structure exuded an understated elegance, as if refinement itself had been carved into its foundations.Hanging above the entrance was a simple plaque, upon which only two words were engraved:
Moon Pavilion and anyone one who is familiar with nobles in Heaven Dou will know about this place.
The Moon Pavilion was not a place for cultivation , it was where nobles courtship, etiquette, posture, speech, emotional restraint.
Graduating from the Moon Pavilion was not merely a credential; it was an invisible seal of legitimacy. Those who bore it were naturally treated as higher-class figures, even among the aristocracy.
Tang San stepped through the entrance without hesitation.
Inside, the walls were carved from the finest boxwood, their surface smooth and warm, emitting a faint, calming fragrance that subtly soothed the mind. The carvings were intricate yet restrained—cloud patterns, flowing lines, symbolic flora—never overly aggressive, never crude.
Tang San's gaze lingered on them for a brief moment.
'If I followed the original path…'
In his memories—those fragmented yet eerily vivid recollections of another timeline—this was a place he would only step into many years later. Back then, it was after emerging from Slaughter City, when the killing intent in his heart was so intense that even breathing felt like unsheathing a blade.
Only then would he come here, relying on etiquette and restraint to suppress the blood-soaked aura clinging to his soul.
His lips curved almost imperceptibly.
'Shrek Academy has already been settled. Blue Tyrant Academy will soon be renamed Shrek Academy.'
'Only the people behind it have changed.'
Flender and Liu Erlong had become a couple—an outcome that should not have occurred yet, but had nonetheless fallen neatly into place.
Tang San continued walking forward, his footsteps unhurried, his posture calm and composed—exactly befitting someone who had already learned the Moon Pavilion's teachings without ever studying here.
'Next…'
His thoughts shifted, sharp and methodical.
'I need to persuade Father.'
Just as Tang San was about to step through the pavilion's entrance, a disdainful voice rang out from behind him.
"Wait! Not just anyone can enter this establishment!"
The tone was sharp, arrogant, and carried the habitual superiority of someone accustomed to standing above others.
Tang San paused. He did not turn around immediately.
'So… it's you.'
In his memories, this man had always been an eyesore.
'It seems I need to teach Aude, the manager of this place, another lesson.'
When Tang San finally turned, his gaze fell upon the figure striding toward him.
The man's body was wrapped in multiple layers of bandages—around his torso, his arms, even partially around his neck. His steps were stiff, clearly betraying injuries that had yet to heal.
Tang San instantly understood. Without wasting time on pleasantries, Tang San spoke plainly, his voice calm.
"Even after being beaten by my father," he said, eyes sweeping over the bandages, "you still have the guts to stop me?"
Manager Aude froze mid-step.
"What…?" he blurted out reflexively.
Aude's mind immediately flashed back to a few days ago.
A slovenly dressed, middle-aged man had arrived at the Moon Pavilion asking to meet Tang Yuehua. His clothes had been ordinary, even shabby—but the aura he carried was bottomless, like a silent abyss.
After he finished issuing his usual reprimand, the man had looked at him and punched him. just once.
And then— Pain., Bone-crushing, overwhelming pain.
Aude's expression darkened as realization dawned.
'This brat…'
Before he could respond, Tang San had already turned away, walking toward the interior of the pavilion as if Aude no longer existed.