Aruheng turned to the junior brothers huddled around the sputtering campfire, his eyes fierce. "Don't just call him 'senior brother,'" he grunted, the firelight reflecting off his polished scalp. "From now on, he's our Big Brother. How can we even think of eating before Brother Zhangting? That's not just rude—it's a betrayal of the code."
Before the echo of his bravado could fade, a firm hand clamped onto his shoulder. Aruheng spun around, his physical instincts already coiling like a spring, only to find himself staring into the calm, amused eyes of Qian Gu Zhangting.
"Not bad," Zhangting said, a thin smile playing on his lips. "At least you have the sense to wait for the chef. It would have been a shame to waste the seasonings I went through the trouble of stealing."
With a flick of his wrists, a series of sharp, rhythmic cracks filled the air—the sound of ceramic jars being uncorked. One by one, Zhangting lined up the spices: sea salt, phoenix-pepper, and honeyed glaze.
Aruheng rubbed his bald head, a wide, toothy grin splitting his face. "Definitely! If we don't look out for Big Brother now, why should Big Brother look out for us when the world gets cold?"
With a flourish, Aruheng sliced the prime cut of the grilled steak and handed it over with both hands. Zhangting didn't hesitate. He took the meat and began to eat with a hearty, primal grace, embodying the effortless charisma of a child king.
In that secluded clearing, the rigid hierarchies of the Spirit Pagoda and the Body Sect dissolved into the smoke of the bonfire. Even with simple roasting, these rare ingredients—meant for the palates of high-ranking elders—provided an explosion of flavor that left the children dazed.
In the Body Sect, the refined rules of the elite meant nothing. Here, strength and brotherhood were the only laws. As they ate, the conversation naturally drifted toward the one event that loomed over their lives like a tidal wave: The Martial Soul Awakening Ceremony.
"What will mine be?" one boy whispered, staring into the flames. "Will it mutate? Will it be my father's mace or something... wrong?"
The air grew heavy with the dreams and anxieties of six-year-olds. Aruheng, chewing on a bone, turned his intense gaze toward Zhangting.
"Big Brother, what was your innate soul power? You're from the outside... you must be a monster, right?"
"Level 10," Zhangting said simply.
The clearing went silent. Aruheng let out a long, slow hiss through his teeth. In this era, full innate soul power was more common than in the legends of old, but it was still the hallmark of a future titan. A level 10 start was a guaranteed ticket to the Titled Douluo realm—provided one survived the journey.
Aruheng looked at his own hands, his expression a mix of envy and prayer. "Gods... just let me have it too. Let me awaken with full power." He chuckled half-heartedly. "If I do, the Sect Master will have to take me as his personal disciple. I'll be in line for the throne! Then, Big Brother and I can truly be fellow disciples of the same school."
The other children laughed, taking it as the bold boast of a boy who dreamed too big. Only Zhangting remained silent, his eyes fixed on Aruheng's frame. He had checked the boy's bone age earlier; he knew the truth that lay dormant in those cells. A body destined to become the Flawless Golden Body didn't just have potential—it had destiny.
"Don't worry, Aruheng," Zhangting said, his voice dropping to a low, certain frequency. "Your wish isn't just a dream. It's a prophecy."
Aruheng laughed, patting his head. "Thanks for the comfort, Big Brother!"
Zhangting didn't correct him. He knew the truth would reveal itself soon enough. He stood up, dusting off his robes. The high-level banquet back at the headquarters would be reaching its climax, and he needed to be present for the closing moves.
The Emperor's Schedule
By the time Zhangting returned to the main hall, the festivities were winding down. His grandfather, Qian Gu Dongfeng, was already standing, delivering the final, sweeping closing remarks that solidified the alliance.
Soon, the crowds dispersed. Only Zhangting, Han Tianyi, and a few key aides remained. Led by Sect Master Mu Ye, they began the trek toward the heart of the natural barrier—the inner sanctum where the elders resided.
The environment was staggering. The spiritual energy here was so vibrant it felt alive, a shimmering essence of heaven and earth that seemed to breathe with the mountains themselves. It was a "Natural Treasure," a sanctuary that the Body Sect had guarded with their lives for millennia.
Mu Ye stopped before a series of elegant, stone-carved chambers. He gestured toward one with a respectful bow toward Han Tianyi.
"Uncle Han, please rest. The journey has been long." He then looked at Zhangting. "Tomorrow morning, I will come for you. We will go to the archives to select your foundational body-refining technique."
Zhangting didn't move toward the door. "Teacher Mu," he said, his voice sharp in the cool night air. "There's no need to wait for tomorrow. Let's go now."
Mu Ye paused, his brow furrowing. "Now? Child, you should be exhausted. Sleep is the foundation of growth at your age."
Han Tianyi stepped forward, a wry smile on his face. "Mu Ye, you'll find that Zhangting doesn't follow the rhythms of ordinary children. For the past two years, he has lived on what I call the 'Emperor's Clock.'"
"The Emperor's Clock?" Mu Ye asked.
"Twelve periods in a day," Han explained, "and he sleeps for only one. Two hours of rest is all his mind requires to function at peak efficiency. He has been tempering his will since before he could reach the top shelf of my library."
Mu Ye was stunned into a rare silence. At Zhangting's age, most children had to be dragged out of bed. To possess such terrifying self-discipline before even awakening a martial soul... it was unheard of.
"Very well," Mu Ye said, his eyes flashing with a new level of respect. "If you have the iron to endure it, follow me."
Chapter 17: The Innate Secret Technique
They moved deeper into the mountain, past waterfalls that glowed with bioluminescent moss, until they reached a vault sealed with massive, soul-conductive bronze doors. This was the location of the Seed of Inheritance.
"The Seed is a spatial soul tool," Mu Ye explained as he placed his hand on the seal. "It contains every scroll, every record, and every drop of wisdom our sect has gathered over thousands of years. It was lost once, ten thousand years ago, during the fall of the Heavenly Soul Empire... but it was recovered in blood."
The doors groaned open, revealing a chamber filled with floating jade slips and ancient parchment, each one humming with a different frequency of power.
"The Body Sect has many paths," Mu Ye said, walking toward the central pedestal. "But there is one that stands above all. The technique that created the legend of the Flawless Golden Body."
He reached out, and a small, pulsing golden orb drifted toward Zhangting's hand.
"The Innate Secret Technique," Mu Ye whispered. "It is the source of our greatest glory and our deepest tragedies. To master it is to become a god among mortals. To fail... is to be consumed by your own strength."
Zhangting looked at the golden seed, his reflection shimmering in its light. He could feel the raw, untamed power radiating from it—a mystery of the physical form that had waited thousands of years for someone with a heart cold enough to master it.
"Tell me, Zhangting," Mu Ye asked, his voice echoing in the vault. "Are you ready to break your body to find your soul?"
Zhangting didn't answer with words. He reached out and closed his fist around the golden orb.
In that moment, a massive surge of information flooded his mind, but beneath the techniques and the mantras, he heard something else. A faint, silver whisper, echoing from the stars he had looked at only an hour before.
"The golden body is a cage," the whisper said. "Find the key in the shadows."
Zhangting's eyes snapped open. The "Subject" that had escaped the laboratory... the scent of lilies... the silver-haired girl...
The mystery wasn't just coming for him. It was already part of him.