"Alright, little Lingling, little Zhuqing, the Life and Death Illusion and the Celestial Demon Creation Grand Technique have both been imparted to you. Our business in Slaughter City is concluded. In a few days, once Slaughter City stabilizes, we should go hunt for spirit rings and return to the Academy."
"Everyone go back and rest."
Xin comforted his students.
His tone was calm and measured, carrying a quiet finality that signaled the end of this phase of their training. The storm of power he had unleashed earlier had already faded, leaving behind only lingering awe and unspoken tension in the air.
Yet beneath that composed exterior, his thoughts were already elsewhere.
His gaze, however, turned towards the direction of Heart of Fire Academy.
It had been one or two years since he left the Academy. He wondered how the girls at the Academy were progressing with their cultivation?
Memories surfaced faintly—training grounds bathed in golden sunlight, familiar voices echoing through the halls, and the steady rhythm of disciplined practice. Compared to the chaos and brutality of Slaughter City, the Academy felt almost like a distant dream.
Still, he knew that time would not wait for anyone.
If his current disciples had grown this much under his guidance, then those who remained at the Academy must have changed as well—perhaps in ways even he could not predict.
…
Zhu Zhuqing and Ye Lingling bowed slightly to Teacher and returned to the Slaughter Hall.
Their movements were respectful and unhurried, though their minds were clearly still occupied with the techniques they had just received. For them, rest would likely be accompanied by reflection, as they tried to grasp even a fraction of what had been entrusted to them.
Hu Liena hid in a corner, peeking.
Her eyes flickered with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Though she remained silent, it was clear she had been observing everything closely, unwilling to miss even the smallest detail.
Only Ning Rongrong remained motionless.
She stood where she was, her figure illuminated faintly by the dim light of the night. Her usual lively expression had quieted, replaced by something more serious—something resolute.
Xiao Wu tugged at her:
"Senior Sister Rongrong, let's go back and rest. Teacher must be tired after imparting the technique."
Ning Rongrong nodded, signaling: "You guys go to sleep first, I still have something to tell Teacher."
"Alright."
Xiao Wu hesitated for a moment, clearly uncertain. A trace of concern lingered in her eyes as she glanced back.
She was a little worried, looking back every few steps, not understanding what Senior Sister Rongrong wanted to do.
Still, she chose not to interfere.
Some things, she instinctively felt, were not meant for others to interrupt.
Seeing the figures of her three junior sisters disappear through the door of the Slaughter Hall.
Only then did Ning Rongrong take a step forward, hesitating to speak.
The night was quiet now.
Without the overwhelming pressure from earlier, Slaughter City seemed eerily calm, as if holding its breath. A faint wind brushed past, carrying with it the distant echoes of a place that had only just escaped destruction.
In the night, Xin stood at the edge of the platform, looking out, with the entire Slaughter City spread out beneath his feet. He was about to turn and ask if his disciple Ning Rongrong had any other questions.
He heard light footsteps approaching—soft, almost hesitant.
Before he could react—
A warm, fragrant presence pressed against his back.
A soft, jade-like body embraced him from behind, sudden and unguarded. The unexpected contact caused his entire body to stiffen, a brief tremor running through him as he instinctively froze.
"Rongrong, what's wrong? Quickly let go of Teacher, what if your other junior sisters see this?"
His voice, though controlled, carried a hint of urgency.
This was far beyond what he had anticipated.
"I won't! I just won't!"
From behind, Ning Rongrong's stubborn voice came. Her hands, instead, hugged him tighter, her index fingers tightly intertwined over Xin's abdomen:
Her grip was firm, almost defiant, as if she feared that loosening it even slightly would cause this moment to slip away forever.
"What's wrong with hugging Teacher? So what if they see? What can they do?"
Her tone held a trace of rebellion, but also an undercurrent of vulnerability that was difficult to ignore.
"It's either a knock on the head or a slap on the hand. Can't Teacher be a little more original? You only use that to scare us."
A faint, almost teasing complaint slipped into her words, but it did little to mask the emotions building beneath.
"Anyway, I've figured it out. Everyone dies eventually, sooner or later. What's the path of a powerful person, what's respecting your teacher and revering the Dao? Rather than waiting until I'm old and faded, wasting my best years and youth to regret it, it's better to be brave and have no regrets."
Her voice gradually steadied as she spoke, the hesitation from earlier melting away.
Each word was spoken with increasing clarity, as if she had rehearsed this moment countless times in her mind.
This was no longer a passing impulse.
It was a decision.
"Teacher, even if you want to smash my palm this time, or knock my head silly, I still want to say it."
There was no trace of retreat in her tone—only determination.
"I just like Teacher!"
The confession rang out clearly in the quiet night, unrestrained and sincere.
It carried none of her usual playfulness.
Only truth.
"I want to have a sweet relationship with Teacher, have children, and live happily ever after. I don't care about the teacher-student barrier at all!"