Chapter 23: The Father's Power Transmission
Fresh from his body‑tempering session, Yu Xiaogang rushed straight to the Sect Master's quarters and knocked loudly on the door.
"Come in," came Yu Yuanzhen's deep, gruff voice from within.
Pushing the door open, Yu Xiaogang found his father sitting cross‑legged in meditation. The older man frowned slightly. "What now, Xiaogang?" he asked.
"Father, Yu Xiaoke hit me today while I was collecting my resources," Yu Xiaogang said bitterly. "Everyone laughed at me, calling me a waste. You have to help me. Teach them a lesson!"
Yu Yuanzhen exhaled impatiently. "I already know."
"But Father," Yu Xiaogang continued pitifully, "am I really that awful? It's been three years, and I've only reached level three—and that's as a mere spirit scholar! Will I ever become a Spirit Master?"
The Sect Master said nothing.
Tears welled in Yu Xiaogang's eyes. "Father, if I can't be a Spirit Master… then I might as well die!"
Yu Yuanzhen finally looked at him. "Speak. How many shares of resources do you want next month?"
"Five, Father. If I had five shares, I'm sure I could break through to level four in just a few months!" Yu Xiaogang said eagerly.
His father's brows furrowed. "So you want the sect to waste five sets of core disciple resources just to push you from level three to level four?"
Yu Xiaogang replied as if it were obvious. "You're the Sect Master, Father. Aren't the resources yours to distribute?"
Yu Yuanzhen's temper flared. "I may lead the sect, but that doesn't mean I can do whatever I please! If you reach level eight, should we provide you with eight sets every month? If you reach the Spirit Master realm, should we grant you ten?"
"I didn't mean that," Yu Xiaogang said quickly, though in his heart, it was exactly what he had meant.
"Yes, you did!" his father snapped. "Have you never heard that even medicine mustn't be taken daily? Too much is as harmful as too little!" He forced a deep breath to steady himself.
Yu Xiaogang's eyes reddened. "Then what am I supposed to do? It's been three years—three whole years—and I'm still only level three! I've suffered three years of mockery, but I won't give up! I will become a Spirit Master; I must! If I have to live the rest of my life as a nobody, I'd rather throw myself into the Thunder Gorge and die!"
Yu Yuanzhen's expression softened slightly. "You truly wish to become stronger?" He stood, walking toward his son. "Do you remember what I told you three years ago? Not to obsess over levels? Those years were meant to temper your body, to build your foundation. Why can't you calm yourself?"
"Because my martial soul should've been the Golden Holy Dragon!" Yu Xiaogang roared. "Not this filthy Luo Sanpao! Three years—three years of mockery! Why should I endure it? Why—!"
Before he could continue, Yu Yuanzhen seized his wrist. The next instant, a torrent of soul power surged into his meridians.
"Ow! Father, that hurts!" Yu Xiaogang winced as the wild energy coursed through him.
Yu Yuanzhen's brow twitched. "After all those resources… and your body's only improved this much?" He shook his head, half in disbelief.
Sighing deeply, he said, "Very well. You want to know why I made you temper your body for three years? Sit."
Yu Xiaogang hesitated but obeyed, seating himself on the meditation mat. Yu Yuanzhen sat behind him and placed a broad hand on his back. "I'll channel my soul power into your meridians. Focus and cultivate. Absorb as much as you can."
At once, Yu Xiaogang brightened. "Yes, Father!" He began meditating eagerly, soul power circulating under the immense guidance of a ninety‑third rank Titled Douluo.
The result was instantaneous. His cultivation surged, each breath far more potent than anything he had ever managed alone. In one night, his progress had surpassed years of effort—pushing him from late stage level three to the very peak, just shy of level four.
It was intoxicating. For the first time, Yu Xiaogang truly felt the joy of cultivation. He longed for more.
But then the flow stopped. The moment his father withdrew his hand, his progress slammed to a halt—like speeding into a dead wall.
"Father, why stop? I'm almost at level four!" Yu Xiaogang demanded.
Yu Yuanzhen rubbed his temples. "It's dawn, Xiaogang. I still have a sect to run. From now on, come to me every night at eight. I'll aid your cultivation for two hours."
"Two hours? That's not enough! At least four, Father—I can handle it!"
"Why, you…" Yu Yuanzhen's nostrils flared. Finally he barked, "Out! Get out before I lose my temper!"
Chastised, Yu Xiaogang scurried away.
Left alone, Yu Yuanzhen slumped with an exhausted sigh. In helping his son tonight, he had sacrificed nearly twenty percent of his own soul power—a tremendous amount for a Titled Douluo. Yet the boy's innate affinity was abysmal. He had absorbed less than one‑ten‑millionth of the energy.
"One night, and he still couldn't break level three?" Yu Yuanzhen muttered. "Did I make the wrong choice…?"
So it continued. Each night, Yu Xiaogang came for his two‑hour transmission. And though his father's efforts drained him, Yu Xiaogang's strength finally began increasing at a respectable pace. One level per year soon became four or five.
…
Divine Realm, Eternal Temple.
Watching the scene unfold, Huo Yuhao couldn't suppress a laugh. "So that's where old Xiaogang's soul power came from—dear old dad's hard work."
He smirked. "The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect really struck gold with this precious son of theirs."
Then, suddenly, his gaze shifted. Something far more interesting caught his attention.
Tang Hao… had left the Slaughter City.
"So, the Asura God will move next," Huo Yuhao murmured, turning his sight toward the Asura Temple.
…
Asura Temple.
The Asura God's eyes pierced time and space, focusing on a single point within the mortal realm—the land of the Slaughter City. On that continent, few mortals intrigued him. But one man had earned his notice: Tang Hao.
Five years had passed in the lower realm—only five days to the gods. Tang Hao had completed the Slaughter City's ultimate trial and now walked the Path of Hell.
The Asura God nodded with satisfaction. "Excellent. Just like Tang Chen before him. He'll do nicely as my chosen one's protector."
As Tang Hao stepped out from the Path of Hell, a flick of divine fingers sent a beam of red light descending. The power of the Killing God Domain infused itself into Tang Hao's body. Within it, a trace of the Asura God's divine sense nestled—a seed planted to ensure that his "precious one's" future would unfold smoothly.
(END CHAPTER)
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