Chapter 44: The Little Flat-Head by the Coconut Lake (1)
When it came to anything that could help him cure his martial spirit's malicious mutation and rid himself of the title of "waste," Yu Xiaogang's mind worked quicker than lightning.
The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect had failed to help him solve his problem and even dared to humiliate him—trying to demote him to a lowly servant disciple. This betrayal left Yu Xiaogang deeply resentful and ultimately led to his departure. Yet across the vast Douluo Continent, very few powers possessed the knowledge to address his issue.
If there existed anywhere a method to purify his corrupted martial spirit, Yu Xiaogang was certain—nine times out of ten—it would be found within the Spirit Hall.
The Spirit Hall's origins were already lost to history, but it had stood majestically across the continent for tens of thousands of years. It possessed the richest martial spirit archives in the world. Surely, hidden within those records, there had to be a way to let Luo Sanpao evolve into the Golden Holy Dragon.
Thus, Spirit Hall became Yu Xiaogang's first choice.
Originally, with the sect token in hand, his plan was simple. He would visit the Spirit Hall, trade a portion of the Blue Lightning Clan's secrets for access to its restricted archives, and then quietly study any manuals concerning spirit evolution. Once Luo Sanpao transformed into the Golden Holy Dragon, he would use the support of the Spirit Hall to climb higher, eventually reaching the rank of Title Douluo. At that point, he would return triumphantly to his clan and reclaim everything he was owed.
But, of course, plans never kept up with reality. Because his token had been stolen, he couldn't even get past the guards—let alone meet the Pope.
Unexpectedly, however, fate smiled on him—he encountered none other than the Pope's personal disciple, a peerless prodigy with twin spirits. Truly, heaven itself is aiding me, Yu Xiaogang thought.
He quickly began plotting to use the Pope's Holy Maiden, Bibi Dong, as his entry point into Spirit Hall.
Over the following days, Yu Xiaogang secretly observed her every move.
Bibi Dong, meanwhile, was in rare good spirits. Since joining Spirit Hall at the age of six, she had lived a cloistered life inside the Pope's Palace. Though her master treated her kindly, he never once allowed her to leave. She longed to see the world outside.
So, every time she was given permission to hunt for spirit rings, she cherished the opportunity to relax.
During one such mission, they left the city for the Star Dou Forest. After much pestering, Bibi Dong finally convinced Elder Jin Zhong to delay their departure by a few days so she could stay in Coconut City to play.
Yet, for all her excitement, the outside world proved disappointing. Everyone who recognized her identity as the Pope's Holy Maiden treated her with nothing but reverence or flattery—none sincere enough to be called a friend. Her exalted status was an invisible wall that separated her from everyone else.
"Holy Maiden, it's time to leave," Elder Jin Zhong reminded her gently.
"Elder, just one more day—please?" Bibi Dong pleaded, holding his arm like a spoiled child. "I promise, after tomorrow I'll go to the Star Dou Forest without delay!"
"Fine, fine," he relented, waving his hand helplessly. "But just one last day. If we're late, the Pope will have both our heads."
Cheerful once more, Bibi Dong decided to spend her final day rowing across the tranquil waters of Coconut Lake.
When she arrived at the lakeshore, oars in hand and joy in her eyes, she noticed him.
A lone figure stood by the water—a young man with a small, neatly trimmed flat head.
He wore a long black scholar's robe that fluttered gently with the wind, giving him a refined, studious air. His hands were clasped behind his back as he gazed silently at the sky.
The soft breeze stirred the willow branches and his robe alike. His expression was heavy with sorrow, his face etched with stories untold.
Intrigued, Bibi Dong watched him for a moment. Just as she turned to leave, she noticed him lower his head toward the still surface of the lake, sighing deeply before taking a few steps closer to the water's edge.
Her eyes widened. She realized what he intended. Before he could jump, she dashed forward, grabbing him firmly by the arm. Though she looked delicate, she was in truth a powerful Soul King at level fifty. It was effortless for her to restrain the would-be suicide.
"What are you doing?!" she exclaimed. "Why would you jump into the lake?"
The young man said nothing. He merely sighed again, tilting his head helplessly.
Bibi Dong's heart softened. "I can see there's a story in your eyes," she said gently. "Tell me, perhaps I can help. Nothing in this world is worth ending your life over. Life is precious—why throw it away?"
"You… you're really willing to listen to my story?" the flat-headed young man asked in a hoarse voice.
"Of course," Bibi Dong said warmly. "If you're willing to speak, then I'll be here to listen."
"Thank you." The young man took a deep breath, his voice trembling as he began his tale.
"I was born in a great clan," he said. "From birth, everyone had high hopes for me. But when I awakened my martial spirit, something went horribly wrong. My spirit mutated—twisted. I should've awakened a mighty martial soul, but instead, it reversed into something weak and pathetic. My innate soul power was a miserable 0.5."
"From that moment, everything changed. My father turned cold. The elders looked down on me. My fellow disciples mocked and bullied me without end."
"So…" Bibi Dong murmured softly. "You wanted to end your life because of that?"
The young man shook his head, and suddenly, a fierce light flared in his eyes. Straightening his back, he declared, "No! I will never bow to fate! So what if my spirit mutated? So what if my innate soul power is only 0.5? So what if my own kin scorn me? I believe there's no such thing as a useless martial spirit—only useless soul masters! I won't give up. If I lack talent, I'll make up for it with hard work! If one hundred times the effort isn't enough, I'll give two hundred! One day, I'll show my father and my clan that even with a 'wasted' spirit, I can still rise to greatness!"
His voice quivered with emotion. As he spoke, his spirit power surged uncontrollably—revealing the aura of a rank twenty-nine Grandmaster.
Bibi Dong froze. This "pitiful scholar" was actually a level twenty-nine soul master? With innate soul power of only 0.5? That was nearly impossible.
Even more astonishing was his age—she had sensed it when she caught him earlier. His bone age was younger than hers by a year.
To reach such a level starting from an almost null foundation… words couldn't describe the perseverance it must have taken.
The thought stirred her deeply. Comparing his effort to her own privileged life made her feel a pang of guilt.
(END CHAPTER)
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