Situ Xuan's finger pressed down on the green button.
Immediately, the machine roared to life. A series of internal lights flared, casting faint, multi-colored halos onto the dozens of Soul Spirit balls encased within the glass dome.
There were at least a hundred spheres inside, resting on a circular track. With a low hum, the track began to spin. The rotation started slow but quickly accelerated until the individual balls blurred into a dizzying stream of color.
The exterior of each sphere was opaque, completely isolating the Soul Spirit within from the outside world. No amount of squinting or focus could reveal what lay inside. It was a pure game of chance—everything was left to fate.
Situ Xuan watched the blur for a few seconds. His expression was calm, his hand hovering over the control panel. Not long after starting the process, he slammed his hand down on the red stop button.
Bang.
The rotation jerked to a halt. A single, pure white Soul Spirit ball tumbled from the track and dropped down the chute, rolling into the metal collection box at the bottom with a metallic clatter.
"Child, this is yours," the Spirit Master said, retrieving the sphere and handing it to Situ Xuan. "Once we are outside, you can open it and see what destiny has given you."
He led Situ Xuan out of the secure room and back into the main hall.
Situ Xuan held the sphere in his hand. It was warm to the touch. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, and then pressed the release button on the side without hesitation.
Click.
The sphere split open like a blooming flower. A brilliant light radiated from within, illuminating the dim hall.
But it wasn't white.
A rich, golden-yellow light bathed Situ Xuan's face.
The Spirit Master's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. He stared at the glowing light in shock. "A... A Hundred-Year Soul Spirit?!"
Wait, is this kid hacking?
As a veteran Spirit Master of the Spirit Pagoda, he knew the odds better than anyone. While it was theoretically possible to draw a Hundred-Year Soul Spirit from a random white-level selection, the probability was infinitesimally low—less than one in a thousand. Most people walked away with Ten-Year spirits, often weak or defective ones.
For a random draw to yield a yellow Hundred-Year spirit... it was a stroke of incredible luck.
The light faded, revealing a small creature nestled in Situ Xuan's palm. It was a tiny black tiger cub, its fur sleek and dark as ink. On its forehead, the pattern of its fur formed the character for "King" (王), bold and distinct.
Situ Xuan looked down at the Little Black Tiger. He didn't scream or cheer. He simply gave a light chuckle, his eyes softening.
"You arrived just at the right time."
He looked up at the stunned Spirit Master. "Thank you."
After a simple word of thanks, Situ Xuan turned and walked toward the exit, the little tiger perched precariously on his shoulder.
The Little Black Tiger was remarkably active for a newborn spirit. It had climbed out of the ball almost immediately, its sharp claws gripping Situ Xuan's shirt as it looked around with curious, intelligent eyes. It seemed blissfully unaware that if it wasn't absorbed soon, its spiritual body would dissipate into nothingness.
"Situ Xuan?!"
Just as he stepped out the front doors, a voice called out to him.
Situ Xuan paused and turned. Approaching the Spirit Pagoda was a young boy with short black hair and large, clear eyes framed by long eyelashes that would make any girl jealous.
"Situ Xuan, are you here to buy a Soul Spirit too?" the boy asked, waving enthusiastically.
As the boy walked closer, Situ Xuan recognized him. It was his classmate—and the destined protagonist of this era—Tang Wulin.
"Yes," Situ Xuan replied, his voice calm.
He tilted his head slightly toward the creature on his shoulder. "This is my Soul Spirit."
Tang Wulin's eyes widened as he saw the lifelike black tiger. "Wow! It looks so strong!" His face lit up with admiration and a hint of envy. "I hope I can get one just as cool."
Despite Situ Xuan's reputation as a cold, anti-social "monster" at school, Tang Wulin had always maintained a good impression of him. They shared the common struggle of having low Innate Spirit Power, a bond that Tang Wulin cherished even if Situ Xuan largely ignored him.
"Wulin, is this your classmate?"
A man standing behind Tang Wulin spoke up. It was Tang Ziran, Tang Wulin's father. He looked at Situ Xuan with mild surprise, noting that the boy was a full head taller than his son and carried himself with an unusual maturity.
"Yes, Dad. This is Situ Xuan, a friend from my class," Tang Wulin introduced him cheerfully.
"Hello, Uncle," Situ Xuan said politely. He offered a slight nod, though his expression remained neutral. "I have things to do, so I'll be going first. I hope you can get a good Soul Spirit."
"Ah, alright. Thank you for the kind words," Tang Ziran replied, a bit taken aback by the boy's briskness.
"See you later, Situ Xuan!" Tang Wulin waved. He knew Situ Xuan wasn't being rude; that was just how he was. He was grateful the boy had even stopped to talk.
Tang Ziran watched Situ Xuan walk away, the black tiger's tail swaying behind him.
"Wulin, this classmate of yours... his personality is a bit cold, isn't it?" Tang Ziran remarked.
"Everyone in our class is used to it," Tang Wulin laughed, unbothered. "Situ Xuan is a good person deep down; he's just a bit of a loner."
Tang Ziran nodded, rubbing his son's head. "Well, let's not worry about others. Let's go! It's our turn to get a Soul Spirit!"
"Aow!"
Back in the safety of his home, Situ Xuan sat on his bed and picked up the Little Black Tiger.
The cub let out a soft growl, not of aggression, but of curiosity. Seeing that the little fellow wasn't afraid, a faint smile appeared on Situ Xuan's face.
"Let's begin."
He extended his right hand.
The moment Situ Xuan's palm touched the little tiger's paw pad, a reaction triggered instantly.
A cold, piercing pain shot from his palm straight into his bone marrow. It wasn't physical damage, but the resonance of energy. The skin between his eyebrows tightened, as if an invisible eye was opening.
Deep within his dantian, the Mind-Cultivation Technique of the Black Heart Baleful Palm roared to life. It began to circulate on its own, uncontrollable and fierce. Freezing Evil Qi gushed out like a black tide, racing along his meridians and converging in his right palm.
The Little Black Tiger tilted its head. Its amber, cat-like eyes reflected Situ Xuan's face. It didn't struggle. It didn't whimper. Instead, it took a calm step forward and raised its other front paw, pressing it gently against Situ Xuan's wrist.
Whoosh—!
The Evil Qi surged violently.
Situ Xuan felt an invisible force pulling at his Spirit Power. The body of the Little Black Tiger seemed to transform into a bottomless abyss, frantically devouring the energy tainted with the black balefulness.
Situ Xuan let out a muffled groan. Fine beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. His muscles tensed like stone as he forcibly suppressed the malicious thoughts rising in his mind. The Black Heart Baleful Palm relied on negative energy—anger, hatred, malice—and channeling it required an iron will to avoid backlash.
"No rejection?"
He frowned slightly, his heart on alert.
Usually, absorbing a Soul Spirit was a delicate process. If the energy was too foreign or aggressive—like his Evil Qi—the spirit would resist, potentially shattering its own soul or causing the host to suffer mental confusion.
But the little fellow before him wasn't in pain. It seemed... to be relishing it.
Situ Xuan observed closely. Deep within the Little Black Tiger's amber eyes, a trace of faint black energy had begun to condense. It looked like a drop of ink spreading in water. Its pupils contracted into vertical slits, losing the innocence of a cub and gaining a sharp, predatory edge. It was the look of a beast hiding a blade beneath a smile.
"Interesting," Situ Xuan whispered, his gaze deepening.
He relaxed his control, no longer blocking the flow. He allowed the Black Heart Baleful Palm to circulate freely. Spirit Power and Evil Qi intertwined, pouring into the tiger's body. A black mist emerged, coiling around Situ Xuan's wrist like a ghostly serpent, before being absorbed cleanly by the spirit.
Suddenly—!
Clang!
A sound like a sharp sword being unsheathed rang out in Situ Xuan's mind.
His whole body shook. The circulation of the technique accelerated wildly. An acupoint that had been blocked for years was forced open by the surge of energy. The Evil Qi flowed back from the spirit into him, purer and stronger than before.
His Spirit Power surged.
"A breakthrough?"
A flash of surprise crossed Situ Xuan's eyes. "No... it's the successful absorption of the Soul Spirit."
A yellow ring of light materialized around Situ Xuan's body, hovering rhythmically.
A Hundred-Year Spirit Ring.
He had officially crossed the threshold. He was no longer a Spirit Scholar. He was a One-Ring Spirit Master.
His Spirit Power, which had been stuck at the bottleneck of Rank 10, climbed instantly to Rank 11. But it didn't stop there. It continued to rise slowly, buoyed by the resonance between the Evil Qi and the tiger.
The Little Black Tiger sat on his bed, looking calm but fundamentally changed. The Spirit Power fluctuations radiating from it were denser, heavier. It gave off a fierce, lethal aura.
It was no longer an ordinary Soul Spirit. It had been tempered by the Black Heart Baleful Palm.
Situ Xuan narrowed his eyes and slowly withdrew his palm. The connection was complete.
The Little Black Tiger gave a light leap, landing nimbly on his shoulder. Its tail swept gently against his neck, rubbing its cheek against his face affectionately.
It acted the same. It looked the same.
But Situ Xuan knew the truth. Just like him, this tiger had been reborn in the darkness.