One and a half months later—
"Suifeng, have you packed everything? We're leaving. Go call Tang San too," Old Jack called from outside the door.
Suifeng threw a few items into his bag, mindful of his limited 20-slot system inventory. He had to be economical—future space was uncertain.
"All set, I'm coming," Suifeng replied and stepped out.
Soon, the grandfather and grandson walked to Tang San's home. The savory smell of rabbits hit them as they approached. Suifeng knocked, and Tang San quickly emerged.
He motioned them to be quiet and whispered: "Dad's still asleep—let's go."
Old Jack grumbled, "You don't even see your father off when he's sending you off to school? What kind of son are you?"
Tang San just smiled in response as he grabbed some burned charcoal and wrote a quick note on the ground before leaving with Suifeng.
Inside, Tang Hao stirred at the doorway despite his son's claim that he was sleeping—he wasn't. He watched them disappear down the road before returning inside.
He looked at the words they'd written by the firewood:
"Dad, Suifeng, Grandpa Jack, and I are heading to Notting City to start school. Don't worry about us. Take care of yourself—drink less alcohol and more porridge. The porridge is on the stove, and your favorite rabbit meat is also cooking in the pot. Don't forget."
Seeing this, Tang Hao couldn't hold back his emotions. He rushed to the iron pot, lifted its lid, and began devouring the porridge straight from the pot. Though it wasn't boiling, it was still hot—but he ate it all, eyes misting up.
As for the rabbit meat… ahem let's pretend he didn't see it.
The trio reached the village's main road. Suifeng and Tang San turned back one last time, looking at the village they'd known for years. They felt a wave of emotion, tinged with reluctance. So many fond memories tied to this place.
Suifeng smiled and patted Tang San on the shoulder:
"Come on, don't think about your dad—leaving the fatherly duties to me from now on."
Tang San shook his head with a teasing smile:
"A dog's mouth can't spit out ivory."
Old Jack chuckled at their banter and urged them on:
"It's not like we're never coming back. Let's keep moving."
Though Notting City wasn't a large city in Fasno Province, its border-trade town status made its streets lively and bustling with vendors calling out:
"Steamed buns, one yuan for four—"
"Mom, I want grilled yam."
"Spinach—cheap spinach—"
Suifeng and Tang San were fascinated by it all. Soon, they reached their destination.
They stood before a tall archway, about twenty meters wide and over ten meters high. It was carved from sturdy rock, with two dark iron gates. Tang San immediately recognized its fine iron craftsmanship.
On it were four bold characters:
"Notting Academy"
Even as an elementary school, its grand entrance showed the continent's respect for education.
But as they lifted their feet to enter, a security guard blocked the way.
"Eh, what are you doing?" the guard straightened his cap and looked down his nose at them.
Old Jack hurried forward with a smile:
"We're just here to send the children off to school. Please let us through."
The guard frowned, examining their clothes:
"You? Do you think you can study here? Don't you know—students here come from wealthy or noble families?"
"Oh, and?" Suifeng retorted, giving him a sidelong glance.
"Hmph," the guard sniffed. "Graduates from this school are destined to become great Soul Masters. Do you know what a Soul Master is? They become pillars of the state."
"So? Why should that concern you? You're just a guard, so why act so proud?" Suifeng replied flatly.
The young man's face turned beet red. He may have been just a guard, but he was the guard of Notting Academy—and that was his pride.
"Kid… even if I'm just a guard, I am a guard of Notting Academy—and I take pride in that!"
Tang San's palms turned white—signs of his Mysterious Jade Hands activating.
[Tang Sect Foundational Manual, Rule 3: Once you affirm someone is your enemy and they are an obstacle, do not hold back—hesitation only creates trouble.]
Old Jack looked anxious, holding his certificate from the Soul Tools Hall—wanting to defuse the situation but unable to find the right words.
Suifeng smiled softly:
"So… this whole school is full of Soul Masters? Need you to guard them?"
With that, he activated his soul power. Suddenly, the wind swirled around him, his clothes fluttering, hair dancing in the breeze like an immortal preparing to ascend.
Underfoot, his soul ring glowed. It was a hundred-year soul ring, tinged with faint purple—a rarity among beginners.
Suifeng smiled:
"Tell me—when did I ever need you to protect me? Do you even qualify?"
The guard stumbled backward three steps, eyes wide like saucers. His trembling finger pointed at Suifeng:
"You… you're a Soul Master—and your first ring is a hundred years old?!"
Suifeng casually flicked back his hair and asked:
"So… can we go in now?"
The guard gasped, then slapped himself hard enough to draw blood from his lip:
"I'm so sorry, Soul Master. I didn't realize. Please—enter."
Suifeng nodded.
"Smart. Our little misstep is forgotten."
The guard exhaled in relief and offered a low "Thank you."
That slap was worth it—imagine if a "master" had complained. That guard's job might've been at stake.
From Suifeng's appearance—six or seven years old, already with a soul ring, and that ring lasting a hundred years—it was clear he had an impressive lineage. Many noble kids only had ten-year rings, but his first was a century, a sign of remarkable potential.
Why was he dressed modestly? Maybe retro fashion was trending among the elite?
And Tang San—patched clothes and calm demeanor—seemed unassuming but skilled.
Of course, Tang San had been the one to explain Suifeng's soul ring days ago… so no one else appeared surprised.
Only Old Jack was taken aback. He whispered, tugging on Suifeng's sleeve:
"Suifeng—when did you become a Soul Master?"
Suifeng looked up with innocent wide eyes and quietly wove a tale:
"Well, when Tang San and I were catching rabbits in the back mountain the other day, we traveled farther than usual. We found a dying wolf—I felt sorry for it, so I sent it to its end. Turns out it was a Soul Beast, and a rare hundred-year one. Because I have innated full soul power, I accidentally absorbed its power… and here we are."
To lend credibility, he gestured at Tang San:
"Tang San was there too—if you don't believe me, ask him."
Old Jack shot a questioning look at Tang San, who nodded helplessly—indicating support for this tall tale.
Old Jack calmed down—of course, it was a lie, yet he believed it again.
He pressed his palms together in prayer:
"Heaven Sacred blesses our Soul Village—praise the Soul Masters!"
He slapped the boys on the shoulders.
"You make me proud. I'm heading back now—study hard. May Sacred Soul Village boasts of you one day."
Moved, Suifeng and Tang San watched the fifty-something-year-old elder walk away. Jack had always been stubborn and determined, dedicated to the village and them with no reservations.
The three entered Notting Academy as the guard respectfully opened the gates.
Only after they walked off did a middle-aged man step from around the corner.
"Interesting… a first soul ring of eight hundred years? This kid's constitution must be extraordinary to handle such a ring."
He was of medium build, slightly thin, with a casual demeanor and black hair parted to one side. Standing with hands clasped behind his back, his composure hinted at experience, with eyes that spoke of indolence—and a trace of weariness. This was the Master himself.
"Master, you're back," the guard greeted.
"Hm." The Master looked at the guard's bloodied lip and replied without expression.