"Now, let's proceed," Fang Ning said calmly.
Mu Feng's gaze sharpened.
Fang Ning raised his hand and retrieved the same slender black rod from his dimensional space—the ritual tool etched with ancient curse runes, its surface cold and sinister. The air in the room seemed to sink the moment it appeared.
Mu Ningxue lay unconscious on the floor, her breath shallow, her complexion pale after the forced severing of the Ice Crystal Bow fragment.
Fang Ning stepped forward without hesitation.
Just as before.
He knelt beside her and pressed the sharpened tip of the rod lightly against her forehead. The skin broke, drawing a thin line of blood.
The runes ignited.
A low chant filled the room—ancient, heavy, and oppressive.
Black mist began to seep out from Mu Ningxue's forehead, far purer and colder than before. Unlike Mo Fan's violent reaction, this power resisted fiercely, freezing the air around it. Frost spread across the floor in delicate cracks as the Ice Element struggled instinctively.
Mu Feng watched closely.
The mist twisted, condensed, and was drawn into the rod—along with something deeper.
Not an element.
But talent.
The very foundation that allowed Mu Ningxue to synchronize unnaturally with the Ice Crystal Bow.
"This is her innate Ice Affinity," Fang Ning said calmly.
The rod pulsed violently.
Fang Ning's chanting intensified.
Then—
with a sharp crack—
The runes extinguished.
Mu Ningxue's body went limp.
The frost receded.
Fang Ning stood up slowly and turned toward Mu Feng.
"It's done," he said.
"The talent has been extracted."
Mu Feng clenched his fist slightly, feeling the faint resonance in his soul.
"Now," Fang Ning continued, his gaze sharp,
"whether you can hold two talents at once…"
He paused.
"…will depend entirely on you."
Mu Feng extended his hand without a single word.
He raised his eyes.
Their gazes met.
No questions.
No hesitation.
Everything that needed to be said passed between them in that brief exchange.
Fang Ning studied his grandson for a heartbeat longer—then nodded.
Very well.
With practiced precision, Fang Ning lifted the curse rod—now glowing faintly with the extracted essence—and pressed its tip against Mu Feng's palm. The skin split, blood seeping out just enough to trigger the ritual.
The runes ignited instantly.
A deep, resonant chant filled the room.
Mu Feng's spiritual world trembled.
Inside his mind, stars flared violently as something foreign attempted to descend—cold, sharp, absolute. Frost spread through his soul sea, clashing against the existing frameworks already anchored there.
Pain surged.
Not physical.
Existential.
Two talents collided.
Mu Feng's teeth clenched, but he did not move.
He did not scream.
He endured.
Fang Ning's eyes narrowed as he increased the flow of curse energy, forcibly stabilizing the graft.
"Hold your mind steady," he said calmly.
"If your will wavers—even for an instant—it will tear your soul apart."
The extracted Ice Talent descended fully and the pendant around his neck glowed but no one paid attention to it.
For a moment, everything froze.
Then—
Mu Feng's spiritual universe expanded.
The conflict did not explode.
It aligned.
The impossible happened.
The runes flared once more—then dommed.
Silence fell.
Mu Feng staggered slightly—but remained standing.
Fang Ning withdrew his hand.
"…It worked," Fang Ning said slowly.
For the first time in years, genuine astonishment crossed his face.
"You're now carrying two innate talents."
Mu Feng exhaled slowly, cold mist escaping his lips.
Inside his soul, two foundations burned steadily—distinct, stable, and coexisting.
The gamble had paid off.
"Hahaha… two talents," Fang Ning laughed heartily.
"Xiao Feng, the heavens have truly favored you. Hahaha! With this, your future is unquestionable. You will stand among the strongest in the world."
Mu Feng smiled as well—calm, controlled, but filled with relief.
This gamble had been nothing short of life and death.
If not for the Little Loach stabilizing his soul at the critical moment, the clash between talents could have shattered his spiritual foundation entirely. At best, he would have suffered irreversible soul damage. At worst… he might have become an empty shell.
But he survived.
That alone was enough.
Just as the atmosphere relaxed—
Knock. Knock.
"Elder," Pan Xi's voice sounded from outside.
"Everything is done."
"Come in," Fang Ning replied.
Pan Xi entered the room and raised his hand.
Mana surged.
In the air before them, a bow slowly manifested.
It was far more complete than the fragment Mu Ningxue once possessed. Its body shimmered with an icy blue luster, ancient runes faintly pulsing along its limbs. Even incomplete, the pressure it released was overwhelming—sharp, cold, and domineering.
Pan Xi bowed slightly.
"Elder, this is the bow formed after merging all the fragments in my possession. Although a few pieces are still missing, its power is already formidable."
Fang Ning's eyes gleamed.
"And its control?"
"Rest assured," Pan Xi said confidently.
"As long as Xiao Feng forms a bond with it, his authority over the bow will surpass mine. Once the bow is fully restored, only he will be able to wield it. I have ensured that no one else can override this."
Fang Ning glanced at Mu Feng.
"Are you certain?" he asked Pan Xi.
"One hundred percent," Pan Xi replied without hesitation.
Mu Feng stepped forward, eyes fixed on the bow.
"So… how do I bind it?" he asked.
Pan Xi smiled faintly.
"It's simple," he said.
"Just a drop of your blood."
He gestured toward the bow.
"It will automatically merge with your soul."
Mu Feng did as instructed.
He reached toward the fruit basket on the table, took a small knife, and made a shallow cut on his thumb. A bead of fresh blood welled up. Without hesitation, he smeared it gently across the surface of the bow.
The moment his blood touched it—
The bow shimmered.
A surge of icy mana rippled through the room as Mu Feng felt a sharp pull at his soul, followed by an immediate sense of connection. It wasn't violent. It wasn't forced.
It was acceptance.
With a single thought, the bow dissolved into streams of blue light and vanished.
Mu Feng raised his hand again.
The bow reappeared instantly, perfectly formed in his grip.
He exhaled slowly.
The control felt absolute.
"How is it?" Fang Ning asked calmly.
"It's good," Mu Feng replied after a brief pause.
"There are no issues."
"Good." Fang Ning nodded in satisfaction.
He turned to Pan Xi.
"You've done well," Fang Ning said indifferently.
"You will be rewarded later. You may leave now."
"Yes, Elder."
Pan Xi bowed respectfully, then turned and exited the room without another word.
Silence fell.
Mu Feng glanced toward the ground, where Mu Ningxue, Mu Zhuoyun, and Mu He lay unconscious, bound by curse webs.
"Grandpa," Mu Feng asked quietly,
"how do we deal with them?"
"Let them accept reality," Fang Ning said indifferently."Mu Ningxue is already useless. If they know what's good for them, they'll keep their mouths shut."
His gaze was cold, absolute.
"I'll wake them up now."
Fang Ning flicked his wrist.
The black curse webs dissolved into thin smoke and vanished.
A moment later—
Mu Zhuoyun's body jerked, and he gasped sharply as consciousness returned. His eyes snapped open, filled with confusion and panic.
The first thing he did was scan the room desperately.
"Ningxue—!"
He scrambled to his feet and rushed forward. His heart nearly stopped when he saw her collapsed on the floor, pale and unconscious.
"Ningxue!"
He knelt beside her, lifting her carefully into his arms.
"What did you do to her?!" Mu Zhuoyun shouted, his voice trembling with rage and fear.
Mu He had also awakened by now. The moment he understood the situation, his face turned deathly pale. He didn't move—didn't dare to.
Fang Ning looked at them calmly, as if watching insects struggle.
"She's alive," Fang Ning said flatly."But her connection to the Ice Crystal Bow has been completely severed."
Mu Zhuoyun froze.
"What… what does that mean?" he asked hoarsely.
"It means," Fang Ning continued, his voice merciless,"that Mu Ningxue is no longer special."
His gaze sharpened.
"No bow. No talent. No future worth mentioning."
Mu Zhuoyun's breath hitched.
"You… you crippled her?" he whispered.
Fang Ning's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Careful with your words," he warned."She crippled herself the moment her mother interfered with clan artifacts."
Silence fell like a blade.
Mu Zhuoyun's hands trembled as he held his daughter tighter. Rage, despair, and helplessness churned violently inside him—but he couldn't release any of it.
Because he knew.
He knew that resisting here meant death.
Mu He lowered his head slowly, his body stiff with fear.
"Elder…" he said quietly."We… we understand."
Fang Ning studied them for a long moment.
"Good," he said."Then remember this night."
His tone turned cold and final.
"Speak of it to no one.""Forget what you saw.""Forget what you lost."
He paused.
"And if even a rumor reaches the Main Clan…"
The air grew heavy.
"You won't need me to finish the sentence."
Mu Zhuoyun clenched his jaw until it hurt, then finally bowed his head.
"…We will remain silent."
Mu He followed immediately, bowing even deeper.
"Yes, Elder."
Only then did Fang Ning look away.
Mu Feng stood beside him, silent, his expression unreadable as he watched the remnants of the Bo City Mu Clan crumble in a single night.
This wasn't mercy.
It was absolute dominance.
"Now you may leave," Fang Ning said calmly."Mu He—you stay."
Mu Zhuoyun didn't dare argue. He lifted Mu Ningxue carefully into his arms, his expression dark and hollow, and left the room without another word.
The door closed softly.
Only three people remained.
Mu He swallowed and stepped forward cautiously.
"Elder…" he asked hoarsely,"why did you ask me to stay?"
Fang Ning looked at him, his gaze indifferent.
"We'll be leaving Bo City tomorrow," he said flatly."Before that, I need to remind you of something."
Mu He stiffened.
"Remember everything we discussed today," Fang Ning continued.
"Every word. Every condition."
His eyes sharpened.
"I've already given Mu Bai a Mortal-Grade Stardust Cultivation Tool."
Mu He's pupils contracted in shock.
"A… Mortal-Grade tool?"
"Yes," Fang Ning replied without emotion.
"Make sure he uses it properly."
He leaned back slightly.
"Tell him to cultivate diligently. He is not allowed to waste it."
Mu He bowed deeply, fear and gratitude mixing in his chest.
"I understand, Elder," he said quickly.
"I will personally ensure that Mu Bai cultivates with everything he has."
Fang Ning studied him for a moment, then nodded.
"Good."
His voice turned cold again.
"If Mu Bai grows well, your value increases."
"If he stagnates…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
Mu He bowed even lower.
"I will not fail."
Fang Ning waved his hand dismissively.
"Go."
Mu He retreated carefully, not daring to turn his back until he reached the door. Only when it closed behind him did he finally allow himself to breathe.
Inside the room, silence returned.
Mu Feng stood quietly beside his grandfather, eyes calm, thoughts sharp.
Tomorrow—
They would leave Bo City.