The Shrek courtyard vibrated with exhaustion. Every student lay drenched in sweat on cracked stones after another merciless day of Zhao Wuji's drills. Tang San sat cross-legged already in meditation, blue silver strands creeping like vines against stone. Dai Mubai sprawled careless but eyes still burning fierce. Ning Rongrong pouted dramatically as Oscar handed sausages one after another.
Leng Xue, pale but calm, sat apart with palms facing outward. A faint ring of cold mist circled him, cooling the entire group despite southern heat. Their breathing slowed, hearts steadying faster than usual. It had become custom now—whether asked or not, he extended frost to ease them when day ended, and none resisted anymore.
Ma Hongjun groaned finally, rolling over. "Brother Frost… if you were missing, I'd melt to death. They should hire you as Shrek's air cooler." His words brought short laughter. Even if crude, it meant acceptance no less.
Tang San caught his gaze briefly, nodding subtly. They did not need words. Respect settled deeper between them day by day, in glances of acknowledgment during spar, in silent cooperation when tasks required balance.
Even Rongrong, once haughty, had begun muttering thanks under breath after group trials. Oscar cheerfully slapped him on shoulder constantly, grinning, "You're like bedrock. We lean without realizing."
For Leng Xue, hearing these casual admissions was heavier than shouts of glory. In first life, every word thrown at him had been mockery. In this life, though never brightest, he was accepted. That alone made frost stronger than ever.