The first time Shrek's true teachers looked closely on Leng Xue came when morning lessons spilled beyond gates. Tang San and others trained subtly, but Xue's eyes followed discreetly. His control, his patience, matched them in spirit if not raw rank.
One instructor, Zhao Wuji, walking with arms folded, noticed the silent figure cross‑legged under pine. Frost mist coiled in spirals smooth and unbroken. "Who is that?" he asked gatekeeper. The sly man grinned. "Rejected northerner. Hl's sat there a month." Zhao Wuji almost barked laugh. "Then he is mad." But then his spirit, honed by decades, felt it—steady circulation, no break, no wasted breath. Like ancient snow that never melts, building slowly into glacier. He frowned, not scoffing anymore.
He strode closer, looming shadow falling. "Boy, you waste time. Shrek does not open arms to those outside limits."
Xue opened eyes, calm. "I do not ask arms to open. I ask only to wait. Frost does not melt because sun commands it."
For long moment, Zhao Wuji stared, then snorted. "Stubborn mule. You'll freeze yourself useless." He left with no promise. But secretly inside, he respected endurance. Even monsters began as stubborn misfits. Perhaps this frost boy already half‑monster.
That night, Xue whispered into sky, "I was useless once, mocked to end. Today teacher of monsters calls me stubborn, not broken. Already more than life before." The Tome stirred faintly, inscribing:
Observation Achieved. Shrek Internal Recognition Sparked. Frost Genealogical Path Strengthened.