Yu Yuanzhen's jealousy remained hidden from others.
Most fathers with sons felt a quiet pang of envy watching the heavenly curtain, but Yu Yuanzhen's was sharper. He forced himself to swallow it. Comparing children was pointless and petty, yet he could not help the sourness that rose when he thought of what his counterpart's son had already achieved at five.
The video continued.
After his first day of training, Yu Xiaogang collapsed from exhaustion. Yu Yuanzhen gathered him in his arms and led him to the sect's medicinal bath—a ritual to restore strength, prevent injury, and accelerate recovery. As Sect Master, Yu Yuanzhen could call on the best resources; the Elders grumbled at the expense, but he welcomed their complaints. His son had chosen to shoulder a burden for the family, and he would not stand aside.
The bath stung at first. Yu Xiaogang yelped and flinched, then forced himself to sit and endure the heat and the medicine. The concoction worked into his sore muscles; his face twisted with each new sensation. When Yu Yuanzhen finally allowed him out, the boy felt as if he had been pardoned. Yu Yuanzhen's voice carried a gentle pressure: "If you insist on cultivating, this will be your daily life." Yu Xiaogang answered without hesitation: "I can manage."
Under Yu Yuanzhen's guidance, afternoons became meditation sessions. The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect's methods favored lightning‑type Spirits, so Yu Xiaogang practiced only basic techniques—still superior to common methods across the continent. He absorbed spiritual power slowly; no Awakening came yet, but he was not discouraged. Instant results were not the point. He trained his body, his endurance, and his understanding.
Evenings were for study. Yu Yuanzhen's five years of explanations had been broad; now Yu Xiaogang read books, asked questions, and took notes. He learned about spirit rings, the advantages of Beast Spirits, and why physical strength mattered for acquiring high‑age rings. He cataloged everything, building knowledge to compensate for weak natural talent.
For six months, his days followed the same rhythm: training, medicinal baths, meditation, study. The sect's members shook their heads. "The spirit hasn't even awakened yet, and they're already rushing to cultivate." Yet Yu Xiaogang persisted.
Then came the Martial Soul Awakening. The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect held no grand ceremony that year—no standout geniuses, and Yu Xiaogang's past aimlessness left few expecting anything. When he stepped into the Awakening formation, golden light filled the hall. Dragons roared; the light shattered with a deafening crack.
A small, pig‑like beast appeared at Yu Xiaogang's feet.
Those who had expected nothing were not disappointed. The Innate Spirit Power test followed: Level 1.
Yu Yuanzhen's eyes, however, remained filled with worry as he watched his son. Under the heavenly curtain, factions across the continent erupted into uproar—some in scorn, some in curiosity, all watching to see whether relentless effort could alter destiny.
Black World, Spirit Hall.
Bibi Dong gripped her scepter, stunned. Innate Spirit Power could be changed. Dragon God Douluo Yu Xiaogang had spent just over six months cultivating before Awakening and had raised his innate level from a half‑level to Level 1. The implication was seismic. If early cultivation could shift innate levels, then starting at four, three, or even two years old might produce far greater changes.
For powerful families, this discovery was revolutionary. A child who might have awakened at Level 7 or 8 could, with early cultivation, reach full Innate Spirit Power by six—transforming the gap between possibility and certainty, between hope and guarantee.
Bibi Dong's disciple, Hu Liena, had already matured; the discovery came too late for her. Spirit Hall, to Bibi Dong, was merely a tool—she had no interest in nurturing future talent for its sake. Other factions reacted differently.
At the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, Ning Fengzhi issued orders: halt Awakening ceremonies, gather child‑suitable medicinal herbs, acquire meditation methods, and begin systematic early cultivation. Gu Rong's face lit with excitement at the prospect of more frequent full Innate Spirit Power geniuses. Chen Xin regretted that Ning Rongrong had not begun earlier; a single cry of pain might have been worth a full Innate upgrade.
Ning Fengzhi watched Yu Xiaogang on the curtain with anticipation. He dreamed of evolving the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda into a Nine Treasure version. He urged his counterpart in the parallel world to cultivate a close relationship with Yu Xiaogang.
Shrek Academy.
Grandmaster Yu Xiaogang stared at the result—Innate Spirit Power Level 1—and felt a cold regret. Innate power could change. If only he had not been coddled and praised before Awakening, if only he had trained himself instead of basking in sycophants' flattery, perhaps he too could have improved. He blamed his father, Yu Yuanzhen, for the indulgence that had cost him potential. The old habit of finding excuses returned; he shifted responsibility outward and comforted himself.
Tang San, watching, felt a different shock. The revelation suggested his own Full Innate Spirit Power might have been forged by early cultivation rather than destiny alone. He summoned his Blue Silver Grass and felt a pang of doubt—had his so‑called Trash Martial Soul been elevated by cultivation and acquired skills all along? The thought unsettled him, but it also made his Tang Sect training feel more valuable than ever.
Across the continent, the heavenly curtain's footage had done more than tell a story. It had cracked open a question that would reshape training, ambition, and the way families raised their children.