The early morning sun filtered through the ancient branches that shaded Shrek Academy, casting long golden bars of light across the stone paths. Dew clung to the leaves like tiny jewels, and a rare quiet had settled over the academy grounds. A tension lingered in the air, as if even the wind held its breath.
Inside the main hall, the students gathered—eight young geniuses, all the student of Shrek. Some sat cross-legged, others leaned against pillars, but all shared the same curiosity burning in their eyes.
Flender stood before them with a smile not quite his usual sly grin, but something tempered with pride and nostalgia. "Let me introduce you to someone important," he announced. "This man helped shape Tang San into the spirit master you all remember. He is one of the foremost theorists in the spirit world… the Grandmaster, Yu Xiaogang."
The door creaked open.
A tall, slightly stooped man walked in. His black robes were neat but plain, his steps deliberate. His expression was calm, with sharp eyes that scanned the room like measuring scales. He exuded a quiet authority, but not the kind born from power—it was the kind born from belief in one's mind.
Li Wei stood near the back, arms folded across his chest, shadowed by the tall beam beside him. His gaze narrowed slightly as Yu Xiaogang entered, the familiar face jogging his memory. He knows this man, as a reincarnator it just a common knowledge that the Yu Xiaogang is only a sham because his so called theory just is plagiarized what writing in the Spirit Hall library that can be accessible by the public.
And every so-called "theory" Yu Xiaogang had made famous? They weren't his.
Li Wei jaw clenched imperceptibly.
He remembered flipping through those aged documents, penned by long-dead Spirit Hall scholars. Yu Xiaogang hadn't created anything. He had merely read what Spirit Hall already knew—and then passed it off as his own. A secondhand collector wearing the robes of a sage. Just because Bibi Dong still having feeling for him so no action been taken.
But Li Wei said nothing.
Let the others hear him out, he thought. Some truths revealed themselves more clearly when allowed to rot under sunlight. But this rot combine with the son of fate of this world become more rotten.
Zhao Wuji's brow furrowed. "Wait… this is Tang San's teacher?" His booming voice held open skepticism. "But didn't I hear his spirit power hasn't even reached rank 30?"
Yu Xiaogang offered a small smile, neither flustered nor offended. "That's correct. My cultivation is modest. But cultivation alone does not define one's contribution. I've spent my life studying spirits—how they evolve, how they interact, and how even the weakest abilities can bloom into greatness."
His words were well-rehearsed, delivered with a calm cadence that captured attention. Even the more skeptical students leaned forward slightly. The air inside the hall shifted—hesitation giving way to cautious interest.
Li Wei remained still, expression unreadable.
Yu Xiaogang stepped forward and gestured to the group. "Let me begin with this: a spirit's strength is not bound solely by its appearance. Look at Tang San. His Blue Silver Grass was dismissed by the world, but through strategy, understanding, and dedication, he turned it into a force few could match. That's what I aim to teach."
He spoke with certainty. With confidence. With the polish of a man who had told this story a hundred times before.
But Li Wei's eyes sharpened with each word.
You didn't develop that theory. The Spirit Hall's researchers discovered the true potential of auxiliary martial spirits long before you ever set foot in a lecture hall. Li Wei's thoughts were cold, precise. You just gave it a name. Claimed the insight. Then built your reputation on it.
Even Tang San became of his potential martial spirit of Blue Silver Emperor and Clear Sky Hammer. If not because of his technique from the previous life, he is just a thrash. Even his full soul power because of that technique.
Yu Xiaogang turned toward the students, eyes bright. "Each of you has your own limitations. But also your unique potential. I will help you understand that potential—not by telling you what to do, but by showing you how to think like true Spirit Masters."
There was silence in the room. A few nods followed. Even Ning Rongrong looked intrigued, as did Ma Hongjun, who scratched his head with a half-curious grin.
Yu Xiaogang's gaze finally settled on Li Wei.
The moment lingered.
"I don't believe we've met," he said.
Li Wei stepped out from the shadows, his figure striking in its calm, deliberate presence. "Li Wei," he said simply.
Yu Xiaogang's expression twitched for the briefest moment, as if recognition stirred but failed to settle.
"You have a unique aura," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "Perhaps you would benefit greatly from theory study. The deeper your understanding, the further your growth."
Li Wei's lips curved slightly, but it wasn't quite a smile. "I appreciate the offer, Grandmaster. But I will not be joining your sessions."
The room fell silent again.
Flender blinked. "Li Wei… are you sure?"
Li Wei nodded. "Very. I've already studied the theories you speak of. Extensively." He turned his gaze slightly, as if staring through Yu Xiaogang rather than at him. "And I've drawn my conclusions."
Yu Xiaogang raised a brow. "You believe theory has nothing left to offer you?"
Li Wei looked directly at him. His tone was respectful, yet firm. "I believe I've learned enough from the original authors."
That single line felt like a pebble dropped into still water—harmless on the surface, but the ripples ran deep.
Yu Xiaogang's eyes flickered. A flicker of something passed through them—doubt? Irritation? It vanished too quickly to grasp.
"I see," he said at last. "Then I won't force it. The path of cultivation is personal. If you believe your current approach serves you best, I respect that."
But Li Wei noticed it. The slight tremor in the corner of the man's jaw. The tightening of his grip on the scroll in his hand. He had struck a chord—without even needing to name the tune.
He didn't need to expose Yu Xiaogang.
He chose not to.
Because truth, when spoken at the wrong moment, became arrogance. He knew what he knew. The Spirit Hall knew what he knew. The world would catch up eventually.
As Yu Xiaogang resumed his speech, Li Wei turned away from the hall's center and walked slowly toward the door. The warmth of the sunlight bathed his figure as he stepped outside. The air smelled of pine and distant rain.
From behind, he heard Yu Xiaogang explaining spirit ring optimization—how odd-numbered rings should ideally lean toward offense, even-numbered toward control or support.
He'd read that exact paragraph in an eighty-year-old Spirit Hall tome. The author had been a forgotten genius named Han Xiuran. Buried in obscurity.
And Yu Xiaogang was quoting him verbatim.
Li Wei exhaled slowly, gazing up at the clouds drifting lazily overhead.
Let them learn, he thought. Some truths are best discovered on one's own. Let them see the cracks in the idol when they're ready.
For now, he had battles to prepare for. Real ones.
Not debates behind scrolls.
Not theory rebranded as revelation.
Not masks worn by men too proud to admit they were walking on the shoulders of others.
The wind whispered through the trees, and Li Wei vanished into it—silent, knowing, and already one step ahead.