"Grandfather will go down and get it for you."
Yang Wudi's heart wavered.
Though inferior to Fire Spirit Grass, Golden Sun Ganoderma remained a top-tier body-reinforcing herb.
But how could he let a child risk himself?
"Don't!" Yang Fan urged. "Your soul power and strikes are too conspicuous. If forced to act, you'd expose our identity."
If I run into trouble, Grandfather can rescue me. But if HE gets surrounded? Yao Lao's existence would be revealed.
After weighing the risks—
"Be careful," Yang Wudi relented. "I'll cover you from above."
A faint smile touched Yang Wudi's lips.
In Yang Fan, he saw his younger self—reckless, fiery.
Youth should be this way!
Every Title Douluo on Douluo Continent had been bold in their youth—none were timid or rule-bound.
Yang Wudi realized: He couldn't impose his aged caution on his grandson's spirit.
"Grandfather, I'm going!"
In a whisper-soft leap, Yang Fan dropped thirty meters—soul power cushioning his landing without a sound.
His target: the storage soul tool.
Grab and go.
As promised, he'd avoid royal factional strife.
The Breaking Clan lacked that power—and he, that arrogance.
From the moment he jumped, his eyes never left the fallen tool.
A perfect plan!
He'd even donned a black mask matching the assassins' style—yet his nine-year-old frame betrayed him instantly.
Hostility radiated from all sides.
Yang Fan's response?
Two swift kicks to Dai Mubai's head.
So YOU'RE Dai Mubai, huh?
Seeing "ally" action, tension eased momentarily.
As chaos reignited, Yang Fan rolled—snatching the tool with practiced ease.
Gone!
Who cares who's who? He vanished without a backward glance.
"Wait—"
"That wasn't our man!"
"Who was he?!"
The assassins realized too late—the masked intruder was no ally.
But as Yang Fan vaulted onto rooftops, pursuit was futile.
"Does it matter?" one hissed. "He doesn't know our identities."
Their mission: eliminate Third Prince Dai Mubai. The employer's identity was obvious. No distractions—not for some random brat.
…
"Got it?" Yang Wudi asked as Yang Fan rejoined him.
Yang Fan jingled a jade pendant-shaped soul tool.
Effortless.
"You little rascal!" Yang Wudi chuckled. "Pretty quick on your feet!"
Yang Fan's split-second deception—making assassins mistake him for an ally—revealed tactical brilliance far beyond his years.
Just as quickly, all sense of playfulness faded.
Yang Wudi's expression hardened. "Leave. Now."
Star Luo City—a hornet's nest.
"Not just this district," he clarified. "The entire city."
…
Deep Night.
Even Star Luo's stray dogs slept—but Yang Fan remained alert.
He opened the looted soul tool.
What a rich loot!
First: hundreds of thousands in gold soul coins.
Dai Mubai might be a sidelined prince—but royal blood meant deep pockets.
"Master!" Yang Fan called. "The body armor's here too."
Only two items beyond coin:
Golden Sun Ganoderma. Body armor.
Dai Mubai traveled light—just money and purchases.
Having seen the herb repeatedly, Yang Fan focused on the armor:
Black soft armor.
Material unknown—but its weight hinted at the quality.
"Wear it," Yao Lao advised. "Should withstand a Soul King's strike."
Thirty grand wasn't spent on decoration.
"Master," Yang Fan asked, "why did you insist I bid on that Ganoderma?"
He still didn't grasp its purpose—but trusted Yao Lao's intent.
"Curious?" Yao Lao's smile turned enigmatic.
"In my world, it's called Fire Spirit Ganoderma.
Thousand-year variants are mediocre—barely top-tier fire herbs.
But at ten thousand years? It produces Ganoderma Primordial Fluid."
"This fluid requires extreme heat to extract. Once refined, it grants fire immunity among other effects.
You'll need it someday."
Yao Lao understood Douluo Continent soul masters' ignorance:
Without soul-devouring flames to extract the fluid, they'd never discover this herb's true value.
"I see!" Yang Fan nodded. Only under Master's guidance could he grasp such secrets.
…
Dawn.
To clansmen's confusion, Yang Wudi announced immediate departure from Star Luo City.
With the Elite Tournament nearing, many hoped to witness the spectacle—but the chief's decree crushed those dreams.
Before leaving, Yang Fan learned Dai Mubai survived.
As expected.
Like Zhu Zhuqing, he was a "sacrificial pawn"—a tool to sharpen his sibling's edge.
A disposable player in Dai Weisi and Zhu Zhuyun's "premium account" game.
The royal family permitted rivalry—but wouldn't let pawns die prematurely, lest the heirs lose motivation.
Beyond city limits, Yang Fan's focus returned inward.
Ten days, six cities—Yunluo City awaited.
The approaching tournament had flooded every host city with competitors, sects, merchants, nobles…
To avoid conflict and expedite clan business, Yang Wudi chose remote villages for lodging.
That night—
WHOOSH—!
A surge of soul power erupted skyward.
Yang Fan shot up like a spring—soul power and Dou Qi surging simultaneously.
"Your grandfather's room," Yao Lao murmured, awakened but calm.
"Grandfather—what happened?"
"Chief—is there trouble?"
Clansmen gathered to find:
Shattered windows. A two-meter hole in the roof. Cracks webbing the walls.
This inn would need rebuilding.
"Nothing," Yang Wudi waved dismissively. "Lost focus during cultivation and my soul power leaked."
But Yang Fan caught the flicker in his eyes.
Strange… Why did Grandfather seem so… excited?
The damaged room forced Yang Wudi to share Yang Fan's quarters after compensating the innkeeper.
Once the clansmen departed—
Before Yang Fan could ask, Yang Wudi gripped his shoulders, trembling with joy:
"Xiao Fan! Grandfather… broke through!"
"That Singular Velvet Sky Chrysanthemum—you gave me a true immortal herb!"
That night, unable to resist, Yang Wudi consumed the herb.
It delivered: from Level 81 to Level 84 Soul Douluo.
Overwhelmed by breakthrough euphoria, he'd failed to contain his soul power at the critical moment—causing the explosion.
Only quick reflexes saved the inn from total destruction.
"Level 84?!" Yang Fan recalled Grandfather mentioning he'd neared Level 82.
Two levels from one herb?
Acceptable—Soul Saint advancement grew brutally difficult. A two-level jump proved the herb's worth.
Yang Fan had planned to refine it into a pill—but Yao Lao warned: some herbs (like this chrysanthemum) lost potency under flame. Direct consumption was optimal.
"Yes!" Yang Wudi's voice quavered. "Level 84!"
Three years as Soul Douluo had barely pushed him to Level 82's threshold. Now—a decade of cultivation was compressed into one night.
More crucially—as a lifelong alchemist, he knew the immortal herbs' residual energy would accelerate future growth.
Hope ignited.
Perhaps one day… he'd touch the Title Douluo barrier and unravel the Breaking Clan's curse.
"Hehehe—"
Years of suppressed joy burst forth.
He couldn't remember his last genuine laugh.
A pity he could share this only with Yang Fan—not the entire clan.
"Grandfather—release your martial soul. Let me see."
"Release it?" Yang Wudi puzzled—but complied.
The twelve-foot spear manifested partially—but the nine soul rings circling him were unmistakable.
That ring configuration alone radiated overwhelming pressure.
Yang Fan focused on the outermost ninth ring—his first close look at the Soul Saint "auto-ring."
Black—but deeper, more profound than ordinary 10,000-year rings.
Grandfather had explained: this ring wasn't useless. It enhanced both soul master and martial soul, making Soul Breaking Spear practitioners stronger than their peers at Soul Saint.
But its curse? An eternal blockade at Title Douluo.
Initially, ancestors blamed insufficient strength.
Until three centuries ago—a prodigy reached Level 89 at seventy… yet died at 150 without breaking through.
Thus, the "curse" was born.
"Seen enough?" Yang Wudi sighed. "Time to sleep."
He understood Yang Fan's unspoken worry.
Which only strengthened his resolve: even if he couldn't break the curse, he'd leave clues for Yang Fan.
As the 73rd clan head, he owed that to their first innate full-soul-power heir.
…
The next morning.
"Master—did you see my grandfather's auto-ring last night?"
"Saw it."
"Any ideas?"
"None."
Alchemy? Yao Chen excelled.
Soul master/martial soul research? He was as clueless as a nine-year-old.
Solving a centuries-old curse overnight? It was impossible.
"Master—what if the auto-ring occupies the ninth slot, blocking further absorption?" Yang Fan theorized.
"Possibly." Yao Lao had considered this. Likely the core issue.
If true, they'd need to remove the ring first—but soul ring extraction typically devastated cultivation.
Worse:
How do you strip a soul ring without killing the soul master?
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