Word spread quickly. Among new students of Shrek, whispers of "northern frost boy" circulated. Some sneered that he was too old, stuck at weak rank, others grew curious at rumors he lasted under Zhao Wuji's palm without being crushed.
Tang San in particular noticed him across courtyard during training. That calm aura, slow but unyielding, strangely mirrored his own quiet intensity. Xue too, watching Blue Silver Grass wrap fluid in discipline, felt deep resonance. He recognized same quality of roots seeking endless soil. Their gazes met briefly. No words, just faint recognition, as if both knew the other carried secret strength not visible.
Training with Shrek began harsh immediately. Others roared with explosive spirit skills, dazzling flares scattering across arena. In contrast, Xue stood patient, layering frost underfoot, watching enemies slip by unseen irregularities until their charge faltered. Sometimes he won spars slowly, sometimes lost, but never humiliated. Always steady. Yan faithfully recorded each technique improvement. Huan relished in battles, boasting loudly, but even he admitted after week, "Without your frost slowing, my spear would stab air."
Instructors tested ruthlessly, often dismissing him as too weak. But each time, his frost preserved something—cooling fever of student, saving spilled grain, shielding partner long enough for counter strike. Gradually, though no one praised, respect began creeping silently.
Tang San one evening even approached briefly. "Your frost," he said softly, "doesn't shine, but it is always there." Leng Xue nodded, answering just as softly. "As is grass. Roots and frost do not dazzle, but they endure." That quiet exchange sealed first seed of alliance.
The Tome glowed again: Connection Spark: Frost aligned with Blue Silver. Future joint path probable.
For Xue, that moment mattered more than any battle. At last he was not merely tolerated, but recognized. Monster among monsters now.