The two days that followed settled into a strange, bifurcated rhythm at Shrek Academy. Two distinct philosophies of power were being forged in parallel under the same unforgiving sun, creating a quiet but palpable schism within the small student body.
On one side were the Shrek Six Monsters, subjected to the relentless, rigid tutelage of Grandmaster Yu Xiaogang. His methods were stripped of all flair, focusing on the brutal, grinding basics. There were no more spontaneous punishments or public humiliations; that initial display had served its purpose of establishing his absolute authority. Now, it was simply about work.
They ran with heavy baskets of rocks on their backs. They hiked up and down the surrounding hills with weights strapped to their ankles. They performed endless sets of push-ups, squats, and sit-ups until their muscles screamed in protest. Yu Xiaogang's focus was clear: he was building their physical foundation and, more importantly, forcing them to rely on each other.
He observed their progress with a quiet, analytical satisfaction. He saw the way Tang San would instinctively slow his pace to match a wheezing Ma Hongjun, in the way Xiao Wu would offer a word of encouragement to a flagging Oscar. When Dai Mubai's arrogance flared, a single, grueling group exercise would remind him that his success was tied to the others. They were becoming a team.
The only outlier, the single discordant note in his carefully composed symphony, was Zhu Zhuqing. She performed every task with a cold, silent efficiency, never complaining, never falling behind. But she remained aloof, a solitary island in their sea of growing camaraderie.
Yu Xiaogang noted her resistance, particularly towards Dai Mubai. Even during team exercises that required physical contact, she would recoil at his slightest touch, her expression turning to one of deep-seated revulsion. The Grandmaster, in his infinite theoretical wisdom, attributed this to a simple lover's quarrel, a spat between fiancés that was hindering team cohesion.
'A temporary problem,' he concluded with his usual arrogance. 'Her childish emotions are getting in the way of optimal team dynamics. But under my guidance, through structured interaction and shared hardship, she will come to understand her duty to her partner and her team. It is simply a matter of applying the correct psychological pressure. I will fix it.'
He was, as usual, completely and utterly wrong.
On the other side of the academy, in a world far removed from punishment runs and forced cohesion, a different kind of training was taking place. Zhang Tian's methods were a stark contrast to the Grandmaster's blunt-force approach. They were creative, tailored, and intellectually demanding.
For these two days, he set aside the intense gravity training, allowing Ning Rongrong's body time to recover and adapt. Instead, he focused on sharpening her mind.
"A support master's greatest weapon is not her spirit power," he told her as they stood in a quiet, sun-dappled clearing on the first morning. "It's information. Your ability to process a chaotic battlefield and make the right decision in an instant is what will keep you and your team alive. To do that, you need to develop a habit of constant, active observation."
His training was deceptively simple. As they walked through the woods, he would suddenly stop and ask, "Rongrong, what color was the bird that just flew past?" or "How many yellowing leaves are on that specific branch to our left?"
At first, she was bewildered. "What? I don't know! Why would I be looking at that?"
"Because you should be looking at everything," he replied patiently. "Every detail, no matter how insignificant it seems, is a piece of data. The color of a bird could tell you the season, the type of predator in the area. The state of the leaves could tell you about the health of the forest, the presence of blighted soil, or a plant-type spirit beast nearby."
He had her spend an hour each day simply sitting and watching a single patch of forest floor, and then describe every insect she saw, every blade of grass that swayed, every shadow that moved. He was instilling in her the art of observation, forcing her mind to become a sponge, constantly absorbing and cataloging her surroundings.
"Any piece of information can become a life-saving advantage if it's used correctly at the right time," he explained. "Train your mind to see the world not as a backdrop, but as a living, breathing database."
While she trained her mind, he trained her body with the same creative flair. He set up complex agility courses with his vines, but now he added a new layer. He would hang small, different-colored bells throughout the course.
"As you run," he instructed, "I will call out a color. You must strike that bell before moving on. It will train your ability to identify and react to a target while under physical duress."
Ning Rongrong found herself working harder than ever before, but it didn't feel like a punishment. It felt like a series of challenging games. She saw Zhang Tian practicing his own routines nearby, his movements a blur of grace and power as he drilled the strange footwork which seemed similar to Tang San's footwork. This was only natural as this was the 'Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track.' His dedication was a silent motivator. Seeing him push himself to his limits, sweat glistening on his brow, made her want to work harder, to not fall behind, to prove she was worthy of his unique tutelage.
After their physical conditioning, they would move on to spirit power control.
"I'm sure your sect has its own special methods for controlling spirit power," Zhang Tian said as they sat facing each other. "And I'm certain they are excellent. My method is a little different. It's less about raw control and more about… responsive multitasking."
Ning Rongrong nodded, a flicker of pride in her eyes. 'He's right. My Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect has the Heart Separation Control method. It's the foundation of our power.' She was currently at the Three Aperture Governing Heart level, able to simultaneously apply three different buffs to three different targets. But the next stage, the Four Aperture Constant Heart, felt like an insurmountable wall. She didn't mention this to him, seeing no reason to reveal her sect's secrets.
Zhang Tian, blissfully unaware of the Heart Separation Control technique, began his exercise. He didn't ask her to do four things at once; he knew that would be a recipe for failure and frustration. Instead, he made it a game.
Four small, glowing orbs of blood-red grass, each a different, vibrant color—red, blue, yellow, and green—materialized in the air before her. They began to drift and weave in slow, random patterns.
"Alright, Rongrong," he said, a playful smile on his face. "This is simple. Each color corresponds to one of your buffs. Red for Strength, Blue for Agility, Yellow for Spirit Power, and Green for Defense. I will call out a sequence of colors. Your job is to apply the correct buff to the correct colored orb, in the order I call it. Ready?"
She nodded, intrigued.
"Blue, Red, Green," he said.
She focused, her spirit power flaring. Her Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Pagoda appeared, and three rays of light shot out. A blue ray hit the blue orb, a red ray hit the red one, and a green ray hit the green one. Success.
"Good," he praised. "Now, a bit faster. Yellow, Red, Blue, Green."
The orbs began to move a little faster, their paths crossing. It was harder now. She had to track four moving targets, remember the sequence, recall the correct buff, and execute it accurately. She missed the green orb on her first try, the ray of light sailing past it.
"Don't get frustrated," he said calmly. "Clear your mind. Just react. See the target, apply the buff. Let's try again."
They continued this game for over an hour. He would change the speed of the orbs, the complexity of the sequences. It was mentally and spiritually exhausting, but it was also incredibly fun. She found herself laughing when she missed, her determination doubling with each attempt.
It was during one particularly complex sequence—"Red, Green, Blue, Yellow, Red!"—that she felt it. A faint, almost imperceptible 'click' in her mind. As she tracked the five commands, her spirit power splitting and flowing with a new, instinctive ease, she felt the barrier to the Four Aperture Constant Heart tremble. It hadn't broken, but for the first time, she could feel a pathway through it. She felt that if she continued this unique training, breaking through was not a matter of 'if', but 'when'.
A profound shock washed over her, momentarily breaking her concentration.
'How is this possible?' she thought, staring at Zhang Tian with wide, disbelieving eyes. 'The Heart Separation Control is a core technique of my sect! Its cultivation methods have been refined over generations! And he… without even knowing it exists, he created a training game that directly addresses the core difficulty of mastering it? He's helping me cultivate my clan's secret art better than my own clan's methods!'
The realization was staggering. Her admiration for him, already immense, deepened into a kind of awe. He wasn't just a genius; he was a monster of intellect and creativity, a completely different species from the dogmatic Grandmaster.
While she trained, Zhang Tian's own progress was relentless. The continuous, passive flow of life force from his domain was channeled directly into his physical body, tempering his muscles, strengthening his bones, and increasing his resilience. His familiarity with the Tang Sect techniques grew with every passing hour of practice. The Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track was no longer a clumsy imitation; it was becoming a second skin, allowing him to move with an eerie, unpredictable grace.
But his greatest breakthrough came during his nightly cultivation. Fueled by the immense energy drawn from his domain and refined by the fire hydrant of his devouring ability, his Mysterious Heaven Skill roared to life. On the second night, he felt the pathways of the first level give way to a new, more complex circuit. He had reached the second stage. His spirit power underwent another qualitative leap in purity and density.
Though the past two days hadn't resulted in a leap in his spirit rank, the foundation of his power had become terrifyingly solid. He was a coiled spring, gathering immense potential, ready to be unleashed.
On the night of the second day, as the moon once again cast its silver glow over the academy, three figures arrived at the dilapidated entrance. They moved with an aura of power so immense, so profound, that the very air around them seemed to vibrate with respect.
The man in the center was middle-aged, with a gentle, scholarly face and an air of refined elegance that seemed utterly at odds with the shabby surroundings. This was Ning Fengzhi, the leader of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect.
To his left stood a tall, slender old man with a face as sharp and cold as a winter morning. He carried a long, simple sword on his back, but his entire being radiated an aura of peerless, piercing sharpness, as if he himself were a blade drawn from its sheath. This was the Sword Douluo, Chen Xin.
On his right was another old man, his frame skeletal and strange, his skin dry and wrinkled like old parchment. Yet, his eyes held a deep, unshakeable power, and his presence felt as solid and unyielding as a mountain range. The Bone Douluo, Gu Rong.
They stood before the gate, their gazes taking in the pathetic state of the so-called academy.
"This… is where Rongrong is studying?" Sword Douluo Chen Xin asked, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "This hovel? Ning Fengzhi, you should have just brought her home."
"Now, now, old sword," Bone Douluo Gu Rong chuckled, his voice a dry rustle. "The girl needs to experience the world. It builds character. Besides, she seems to have found a rather interesting… friend."
Before Ning Fengzhi could reply, a figure materialized from the shadows of the forest. He wore tattered, grimy clothes, his hair was a mess, and he reeked of cheap alcohol. But the moment their eyes fell on the massive, black hammer he held casually in one hand, all three powerful men tensed. The hammer was a symbol, an icon of terrifying, world-shaking power.
"Tang Hao," Ning Fengzhi said, his voice calm, but his eyes wary. He recognized the Clear Sky Douluo, the youngest Titled Douluo in history, the man who had vanished after his legendary battle with the previous Pope of the Spirit Hall.
Tang Hao's gaze was heavy, filled with a deep, weary sorrow. "Sect Leader Ning," he acknowledged with a slight nod. "Sword Douluo. Bone Douluo."
He looked at the academy. "I know why you are here. Your heiress is inside. You may see her. I have no intention of stopping you."
He then added, his voice low and serious. "But I have one condition. There is another in this academy. A spirit beast. One hundred thousand years old, transformed into human form. You will not target her. She is… mine to deal with."
The three visitors exchanged a look of profound surprise. A hundred-thousand-year-old transformed spirit beast? Such a creature was a priceless treasure, its spirit ring and bone being very valuable even for their Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect. But to fight the legendary Clear Sky Douluo for it? The cost would be immense.
Ning Fengzhi, ever the diplomat, smiled graciously. "Of course, Clear Sky Douluo. We have no quarrel with you. Your target is your own. The Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect will not interfere."
Though Chen Xin's hand twitched towards the sword on his back, a warrior's instinct yearning for a challenge, he respected his sect leader's decision. Gu Rong simply shrugged, his interest in a fight far less than his interest in seeing his beloved granddaughter.
With the agreement made, Tang Hao gave a final, silent nod and melted back into the shadows, his oppressive presence vanishing as if it had never been.
The trio proceeded onto the grounds, their powerful senses easily locating the two small figures in the secluded clearing. They arrived just as Zhang Tian and Ning Rongrong were finishing their spirit power control training for the night.
"Daddy! Grandpa Sword! Grandpa Bone!"
The moment Ning Rongrong saw them, all her training, all her newfound seriousness, melted away. She let out a cry of pure, unadulterated joy and ran towards them.
She threw herself first into the arms of the Sword Douluo. "Grandpa Sword! I missed you so much!"
Chen Xin's cold, sharp face broke into a rare, warm smile as he hugged her tightly. He shot a smug, victorious look over her head at Gu Rong. "See, old bone? I told you she'd greet me first."
Bone Douluo Gu Rong simply snorted, ignoring his old rival's taunt. He gently pulled his granddaughter into his own embrace the moment Chen Xin let go. "Who cares about that old fool? Come here, my little Rongrong."
Finally, she hugged her father, Ning Fengzhi, who held her with a deep, paternal love.
"We received your letter, my dear," he said softly, stroking her hair. "It was… most intriguing."
He then released her and turned his full attention to the calm, blue-haired boy who had been watching the reunion with a polite smile. His eyes, wise and discerning, scanned Zhang Tian from head to toe.
"And you," Ning Fengzhi said, his voice carrying the smooth, practiced charm of a great leader. "You must be Zhang Tian. I have been very eager to meet you."
~~
A/N: Check out my other novels like "Harem Master: Seduction System" and the "Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist" and I hope you like this story and those stories as well.
Check out more chapters on my P.atreon. The P.atreon will have 20+ Chapters ahead for this story. I hope you like it.
The link of p.atreon is: bit.ly/evildragon