Tang San's POV
The days at Shrek began to blur into a rhythm of relentless training, theory lessons, and quiet evenings where bonds—old and new—deepened.
Grandmaster's regimen had intensified with the Continental Advanced Soul Master Academy Elite Tournament now only months away. Every session pushed them toward perfect synergy: Tang San's control, Dai Mubai's assault, Zhu Zhuqing's agility, Ma Hongjun's sustained firepower, Xiao Wu's close combat, Oscar's support, and Ning Rongrong's unparalleled boosts.
And then there was Luo Feng.
He never dominated drills, never overshadowed the students. Instead, he became a quiet force multiplier—offering insights into spatial awareness, energy flow, mental focus. Techniques drawn from his cosmic cultivation translated surprisingly well into spirit master fundamentals.
Today's exercise was a full team mock battle against the teachers: Flender, Zhao Wuji, and two borrowed Spirit Kings from Soto City's soul master guild.
The field shook with collisions—Flender's Four-Eyed Owl blinding flashes, Zhao Wuji's immovable defense, gusts of wind and earth from the guest instructors.
Shrek held.
Tang San's Blue Silver Grass prisons locked down movement. Dai Mubai and Zhu Zhuqing's Nether White Tiger fusion roared across the dirt. Ma Hongjun's phoenix flames forced retreats.
At the heart of it stood Ning Rongrong, pagoda blazing with four treasures and Dream Veil enveloping the team in restorative haze. Her voice rang clear: "Strength eighty percent! Speed eighty percent! Defense seventy percent! Spirit power recovery fifty percent!"
The boosts stacked seamlessly with Oscar's sausages, turning good coordination into devastating precision.
Luo Feng watched from the sidelines, arms folded, pride evident in his eyes as he tracked every move—especially hers.
When the mock ended in a hard-fon draw (Grandmaster calling halt before injuries mounted), the students collapsed in exhausted triumph.
Flender wiped sweat, grinning despite himself. "Little monsters… you're becoming actual devils."
Zhao Wuji clapped Luo Feng on the shoulder. "Your advice on momentum redirection saved my old bones a beating today. Thanks."
Luo Feng nodded. "They're the ones executing it."
Ning Rongrong's POV – Late Afternoon
After bathing and changing, Ning Rongrong found Luo Feng in the grove again—their unofficial spot now.
He was meditating, sitting cross-legged beneath the oak, eyes closed, breathing slow and deep. Sunlight dappled his face, and for a moment he looked almost ordinary—until she felt the faint ripple of spatial energy around him, like the air itself paid homage.
She settled beside him quietly, not wanting to disturb.
But his eyes opened immediately, soft and welcoming.
"Hard training today," he said.
"The hardest yet," she admitted, leaning against his side. He shifted to accommodate her naturally, arm draping around her shoulders. "But it felt good. We're getting stronger. I can feel it."
"You were magnificent," he murmured against her temple. "Your timing on the boosts—perfect. You carried the team."
Warmth spread through her chest. Praise from others always felt conditional. From him, it felt like truth.
She tilted her head up. "I had good motivation."
Their lips met—easy now, familiar yet still thrilling. Kisses had become a language of their own: soft for comfort, deeper for celebration, lingering when words weren't enough.
When they parted, she traced idle patterns on his chest through his robe.
"The tournament qualifiers start soon," she said quietly. "We'll face other academies. Some will be strong. Some will play dirty."
He nodded. "I know."
"Will you… come with us? Officially?"
Grandmaster had already proposed it: Luo Feng as an unofficial substitute or advisor. Rules allowed teams of seven plus reserves, and Shrek's reputation for eccentricity would smooth any questions.
"I'll be there," he promised. "Every match. Every step."
She smiled, relief evident. "Good. Because I plan to show the entire continent what the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda can really do—with the man I love watching."
The word slipped out naturally, without drama or hesitation.
Love.
They both stilled.
Then Luo Feng's arms tightened around her, voice rough with emotion.
"I love you too, Ning Rongrong."
Simple. Absolute.
She buried her face in his neck, breathing him in—clean sweat, forest air, something uniquely him.
They stayed like that until sunset painted the sky in oranges and purples.
Group Dinner – That Evening
The dining hall buzzed with post-training energy.
Oscar recounted the mock battle with dramatic flair, complete with sausage props. Ma Hongjun complained about phoenix evil fire flare-ups. Dai Mubai and Zhu Zhuqing sat closer than usual, quiet contentment between them.
Ning Rongrong entered holding Luo Feng's hand openly now—no more hiding under tables.
Xiao Wu spotted it first and squealed loud enough to make Flender drop his ledger.
"Finally!" she exclaimed. "No more sneaky glances!"
Oscar raised his cup. "To the scariest couple on the continent!"
Even Grandmaster allowed a small smile.
Ning Rongrong rolled her eyes but squeezed Luo Feng's hand tighter. He brushed his thumb across her knuckles, grounding her.
Later, as dishes were cleared, Tang San pulled Luo Feng aside.
"Spirit Hall scouts have been seen in nearby cities," he said quietly. "They're watching potential competitors."
Luo Feng's expression hardened slightly. He had sensed the subtle probes—spirit masters with concealed auras lingering near the academy grounds.
"I've been redirecting them," he said. "They see only what I allow."
Tang San nodded gratitude. "Good. But they'll grow bolder as the tournament nears. Bibi Dong… she doesn't tolerate unknowns."
"I'm aware of her reputation," Luo Feng replied. In his divine sense, he had already mapped the continent's major powers. Spirit Hall's Supreme Pontiff radiated danger—for this world. To him, she was a talented mortal with ambition.
Still, ambition could be deadly to those he cared about.
"I won't let harm come to any of you," he said. "Especially her."
Tang San studied him. "I believe you. Just… remember we fight our own battles too."
Luo Feng inclined his head. "Always."
Night – Rooftop
They returned to the roof again, wrapped in a single blanket against the cooling air.
Ning Rongrong lay with her head in his lap, staring up at unfamiliar constellations.
"Tell me about your stars," she whispered.
So he did—stories of the Original Universe, primal chaos, world lords and true gods, battles that shattered planetary systems. He spoke softly, without boasting, painting pictures of wonders and horrors alike.
She listened in awe, fingers laced with his.
"And through all of it," he finished quietly, "I never imagined I'd find this. Peace. Someone to hold under ordinary stars."
She sat up, straddling his lap to face him fully, hands framing his face.
"You deserve it," she said fiercely. "You deserve everything good."
The kiss that followed was deeper, hungrier—hands sliding under robes, tracing skin, breaths mingling hot and urgent. Clothes stayed on, boundaries respected, but exploration grew bolder: the curve of her waist, the strength of his back, soft sounds swallowed in the night.
When they finally pulled apart, foreheads pressed together, both breathing hard.
"Soon," she whispered, understanding passing between them without need for more words.
He nodded, holding her close until hearts slowed.
Below, Shrek Academy slept—unaware that within its walls, legends were quietly forging themselves.
The tournament approached.
Spirit Hall watched.
And a love born across worlds grew stronger with every shared sunrise.