Moments later, Lin Ximeng emerged from Na'er's room, gently closing the door behind her.
In the living room, Fang Yang sat on the sofa, lost in thought.
"Yang'er, time to rest—it's school again tomorrow," Lin Ximeng said softly, walking over and affectionately ruffling his hair.
Fang Yang looked up, eyes sparkling with hope. "Mom… Na'er's so adorable. Can we… adopt her?"
Lin Ximeng paused, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her mind.
"How about this," she said after a moment. "If we can't find Na'er's family tomorrow—and she's willing to stay—we'll go ahead with the adoption procedures. Alright?"
Fang Yang leapt to his feet and threw his arms around her. "Love you, Mom! See you tomorrow!"
And with that, he dashed into his room like a gust of wind.
Watching his retreating back, Lin Ximeng murmured to herself, "Ah… Yang'er, having a childhood fiancée doesn't seem so bad. I just wonder what Na'er thinks…"
But ultimately, this fate would rest in Fang Yang's hands.
…
The next morning, Fang Yang rose early and finished his morning routine promptly.
On the dining table, Lin Ximeng had already prepared a steaming hot breakfast for both Fang Yang and Na'er.
After the meal, Fang Yang bid farewell to his mother and Na'er and set off alone for Red Mountain Academy.
Lin Ximeng, having taken the day off, planned to take Na'er to the city administration to investigate her identity.
At Red Mountain Academy, the Soul Master Class didn't study soul master subjects every day—lessons alternated between soul cultivation theory and general academic subjects.
As a teacher, Lin Ximeng was even busier—responsible not only for soul master classes but also for teaching core subjects to regular students.
Today, however, Fang Yang's schedule called for academic lessons.
As he entered the classroom, he spotted Tang Wulin already seated.
"Morning, Wulin," Fang Yang greeted, sliding into the seat beside him.
Tang Wulin looked up and offered a warm smile. "Morning, Fang Yang."
After exchanging greetings, both boys settled into quiet cultivation.
Fang Yang began circulating the Flame Mantra, refining ambient soul power into his body. The technique purified his soul energy to an exceptional degree and dramatically accelerated his cultivation—key to breaking through soul power thresholds.
After all, soul power was the foundation of every soul master. Without it, one remained an ordinary mortal; with it, one gained status and power.
Most common soul masters could only rely on innate talent or meditative absorption. But Fang Yang's Fire martial soul, paired with the Flame Mantra, was like a fish in water.
Guiding soul power through his meridians, each full circulation left his energy purer and denser.
Yet—without fusing a soul spirit—he couldn't break past Level 10.
Through consistent practice, his soul power had already transformed into a unique Fire soul power, each strand shimmering with intense heat. This specialized energy not only packed greater offensive power but also inflicted lingering burn damage in combat.
Sensing the fiery energy coursing within, Fang Yang nodded in quiet satisfaction.
He knew clearly: before advancing further, he needed to strengthen his physical body—both to withstand the shock of fusing a thousand-year soul spirit and to prepare for the ultimate trial… devouring a Heavenly Flame.
Devouring Heavenly Flames was extremely perilous.
If his strength was insufficient or his control faltered even slightly, the fire could turn on him, triggering catastrophic energy backlash. Total mental focus was required throughout the entire process.
…
After enduring a full day of academic lectures, school finally let out.
During their walk home, Fang Yang learned that Tang Wulin had started apprenticing under Master Mang Tian in a forging workshop—working hard to earn money for a soul spirit.
When Fang Yang returned home, he found neither his mother nor Na'er had come back yet. He headed straight to his room.
"The time has come," he whispered.
Taking a deep breath, he sat cross-legged on his bed, closed his eyes, and focused inward—on the Heavenly Flame Orb nestled within his soul sea.
At his mental command, the orb flared with fiery light.
When he opened his eyes again, the familiar Heavenly Flame Plaza stood before him.
Twenty-three towering pillars stretched into the heavens, each wreathed in a different Heavenly Flame, radiating awe-inspiring, heart-stopping energy.
Fang Yang had long made up his mind. He walked calmly toward the pillar at the very edge.
Wrapped around it was a deep golden-yellow flame.
"The Rank 23rd Heavenly Flame… Xuanhuang (Mysterious Yellow) Flame," Fang Yang murmured.
The Mysterious Yellow Flame, its flame a deep yellow, with 'Xuan' representing heaven and 'Huang' representing earth's essence. The Xuanhuang Flame condensed over eons into a fire of profound origin.
Those who refined it could stabilize and condense soul power with ease—and gain deeper communion with heaven and earth.
This was Fang Yang's target. At his current strength, attempting to devour any higher-ranked Heavenly Flame would be suicide.
But even the lowest-ranked Heavenly Flame was no trivial matter—one misstep, and he'd be reduced to ash.
Fang Yang sat before the pillar, eyes closed, and mentally reached out to the Heavenly Flame Orb.
"Seal—Release!"
At his command, the sealing runes on the pillar cracked apart, shattering into dust.
The once-dormant Xuanhuang Flame erupted violently—deep golden tongues lashing out, its heat so intense it warped the very air around it.
Heavenly Flames possessed sentience. Sensing its prison broken, it grew fierce, roaring with primal fury as it sought to escape this realm.
Mankind is the spirit of all creation; fire is the essence of Heaven and Earth!
Fang Yang gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his brow—but his hands moved without hesitation.
"Heaven-Sealing Divine Ban—Activate!"
Instantly, the Heavenly Flame Orb within him glowed, unleashing countless golden threads of light that wove into a vast, ancient formation in midair.
Fang Yang hadn't come unprepared. He knew he couldn't have dared this without safeguards.
The Xuanhuang Flame seemed to sense the trap. It writhed and surged, expanding and contracting in fury—but the array held firm. Slowly, inevitably, the flame was compressed into a condensed, deep-yellow seed of primal fire, floating gently into Fang Yang's outstretched palm.
Staring at the pulsating flame in his hand, he could feel the terrifying power coiled within.
"So… this is the Xuanhuang Flame?"
He blinked, voice hushed with awe.
Then—he took a deep breath.
The devouring had begun.
This was the most dangerous phase of all.
No matter how tough the body, the interior remained its most vulnerable part. Even a tiny foreign object could cripple a great expert—let alone a force of destruction like a Heavenly Flame.
Without hesitation, Fang Yang swallowed the flame.
Instantly, unbearable heat seared from his throat down to his core.
His body convulsed violently. His face—once flushed with vitality—turned deathly pale. Beads of sweat poured down his forehead.
"Aaah—!"
Teeth clenched, he endured the excruciating pain, fighting to keep his consciousness clear.
Any distraction now would not only ruin everything—but reduce him to ashes in an instant.
Inside him, the Xuanhuang Flame rampaged through his meridians, each collision sending waves of tearing agony through his body.
Gritting through the torment, Fang Yang guided the flame with the Flame Mantra, inch by agonizing inch.
At first, the fire resisted fiercely. But as circulation after circulation passed, his control grew steadier.
Yet precisely because the seal weakened, the Xuanhuang Flame's temperature soared to terrifying levels. His meridians blistered and burned; his organs screamed under the strain.
Pftt!
He spat out a mouthful of blood—his vision blurring, consciousness fraying.
"Heavenly Flame Orb… SAVE ME!" he roared with his last shred of strength.
As if answering his plea, the orb within him flared with soothing golden light.
A cool, profound energy surged through his body—repairing scorched meridians, rejuvenating damaged organs, restoring life where there was only ruin.
Fang Yang seized the moment. With renewed vigor, he drove the Flame Mantra to its limits.
Under the orb's continuous support, the Xuanhuang Flame's fury waned. Its wild surges calmed, and gradually, it began flowing along the prescribed pathways.
Time lost meaning.
At last, the flame's heat receded inward. Its violence faded, replaced by a faint… docility.
Fang Yang exhaled deeply, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.
"Hehehe… this first step— I did it!"
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