Eight hundred thousand gold soul coins' worth of Blood-Clotting Grass was safely stored.
Yang Fan assumed the crisis was resolved—next step: settle accounts with Elephant Armor Sect.
But…
Trained by Yao Lao for years, Yang Fan had overestimated his clan's alchemy skills.
At their current capacity, refining 300,000 gold worth of Blood-Clotting Powder would take a full month—missing the delivery deadline to Star Luo nobles.
After consultation, Yang Wudi and the elders revised their plan:
Deliver 100,000 gold worth first, explain the incident, then supply the remaining 250,000 within a month.
It will be costly—50,000 extra gold and clan labor—but if accepted, it preserved the hard-won sales channel.
The clansmen unanimously approved.
But Yang Fan disagreed.
…
Deep Night.
Yang Fan crept to his grandfather's window.
Before he made a sound, Yang Wudi's voice echoed from within:
"You little rascal—trying to sneak out again?"
Though Third Uncle had aided Yang Fan's herb sweep that day, Yang Wudi still reprimanded him.
A Soul Emperor failing to guard a boy who vanished overnight to clear regional herb stocks? Humiliating.
Yang Wudi knew Yang Fan had grown capable—but still underestimated the brat.
"Don't put it that way," Yang Fan grinned. "I have urgent business. Come quickly."
After brief silence, Yang Wudi emerged dressed.
"What is it?"
Yang Fan led him silently:
From clan grounds → out of Yunluo City → deep into the mountains behind.
Yang Wudi's patience frayed. "Xiao Fan—where are we going?"
Yang Fan halted, turned, and met his grandfather's eyes.
"Grandfather… I must tell you something."
"I swear—I'll tell no one."
Yang Wudi vowed.
"During my travels, I met a master who took me as his disciple. Much of what I have… comes from his teaching."
Yang Wudi was surprised—but not shocked.
He'd long suspected a powerful figure stood behind his grandson. Two 10,000-year soul rings didn't appear from thin air.
"Grandfather, my master is a master alchemist."
This was why Yang Fan revealed Yao Lao:
To save the Breaking Clan's reputation and leverage the Elite Tournament, they needed 300,000 gold worth of Blood-Clotting Powder now.
Only Yao Lao could refine it in time.
"A master alchemist?" Yang Wudi grasped his grandson's true purpose.
Hope flickered in his eyes.
Then—
A black-cloaked figure emerged soundlessly from the forest shadows.
No footsteps. No wings.
Yet he glided like a phantom through the dark.
Had Yang Fan not brought him here, Yang Wudi's twelve-foot spear would've already been drawn.
The cloaked figure was Yao Lao.
Using Dou Qi to suspend loose robes, he appeared as an elder standing amid the trees under moonlight.
"Who are you?" Yang Wudi's voice held guarded respect.
"Does it matter?" Yao Lao's tone was calm.
"Why take Xiao Fan as your disciple?"
"Talent." Yao Lao's gaze softened. "Who wouldn't cherish a child with innate full soul power? To nurture him… is to share in his future glory."
Not entirely false.
Yao Lao had chosen Yang Fan for his diligence—and initially, to find one who could cultivate the Flame Mantra to restore his body.
But time in Douluo had dimmed that hope.
His focus now centered solely on Yang Fan's growth.
Yang Wudi believed—yet remained wary.
If this man wished harm, he could've strangled Yang Fan long ago. Instead, he forged the boy into someone surpassing peers by leaps.
Still…
Years of betrayal made Yang Wudi distrust any outsider beyond the Four Attributes Clans.
As the elders spoke, Yang Fan prepared the three herbs from clan stores:
Blood-Clotting Grass, Black Tongue Orchid, Wood Hibiscus.
Cheap. Abundant.
As long as Douluo Continent existed, they'd never vanish.
Then—Yao Lao moved.
Pale-white Bone Chilling Cold Flame erupted from his palm. Dou Qi swept the herbs into the air.
In that moment—
Yao Lao embodied the pinnacle of alchemical mastery.
What Yang Wudi spent hours refining—a basic hemostatic powder—became child's play in Yao Lao's hands.
Within breaths, the scent of Blood-Clotting Powder filled the air.
Flames coiled like dragons through the herbs. Where they passed, Blood-Clotting Grass transformed into pristine white powder.
Yang Wudi stood frozen.
Awe and disbelief lit his eyes. This… is alchemy?
He considered himself skilled—but before Yao Lao? He was nothing.
Did my grandson apprentice under a deity?
Time flowed…
What took the Breaking Clan a month, Yao Lao completed in one hour.
Watching 300,000 gold worth of herbs become powder, Yang Wudi's emotions defied description. His body went rigid.
"Your Excellency's magnanimity!" Yang Wudi bowed deeply. "On behalf of the Breaking Clan, I offer you my deepest gratitude. For guiding Xiao Fan… I have no words to repay you."
"What do you seek? I will move heaven and earth to fulfill it."
Yao Lao's skill had utterly conquered Yang Wudi—who now instinctively regarded him as a Title Douluo.
To refine a month's work in an hour? Unfathomable.
More importantly—those abnormal soul rings? Only a master of this caliber could orchestrate such a path.
Yang Wudi now knew:
This man held no malice toward Yang Fan.
Nor did he scheme against the Breaking Clan.
We are simply… unworthy of his schemes.
"I require no repayment." Yao Lao's voice held quiet pride. "I aid not your sect—but Yang Fan."
Yang Wudi felt no offense.
True. Without Xiao Fan's connection, why would such a figure lift a finger for the Breaking Clan?
"Your Excellency—return with us!" Yang Wudi urged. "We will honor you as our highest guest!"
Yao Lao shook his head. "Go. Pretend I never existed."
He preferred distance.
The Breaking Clan distrusted outsiders. He wished no entanglement beyond Yang Fan.
"Farewell, Your Excellency!"
Yang Wudi hadn't even learned his name.
But the black cloak was answer enough.
On the return path…
Yang Wudi felt he'd dreamed—but the storage soul tool, now packed with powder, proved reality.
Yao Lao's alchemical artistry haunted his mind—a wonder he'd never imagined.
"Xiao Fan…" Yang Wudi's voice trembled. "That formula you left… was from your master, wasn't it?"
He'd long wondered its origin.
Now—answers bloomed.
Yang Fan's inexplicable strength. His soul rings. The "mysterious merchant" who swept Yunluo's herbs.
All threads led to Yao Lao.
And Yang Fan had never been alone.
"Hehe…" Yang Fan offered no details.
Yao Lao appeared only because the Breaking Clan faced a true crisis.
"Your master… is extraordinary," Yang Wudi murmured. "Far beyond me."
"With him… you might truly become the Breaking Clan's first Title Douluo."
No flattery—his voice only contained the purest conviction.
If this master enabled thousand-year first rings and 10,000-year third rings… perhaps he could break the sect's "curse."
He and the other three elders once debated: Do hidden masters walk the Douluo Continent?
Now—he knew.
Yang Fan's fortune was earned across lifetimes.
"Grandfather," Yang Fan shifted focus. "How will you explain the Blood-Clotting Powder?"
He'd arranged this meeting so Yao Lao's involvement wouldn't shatter Yang Wudi's trust.
With Yao Lao's consent, he passed the explanation to his grandfather.
"I've lived for decades—do you think I can't craft a story?" Yang Wudi chuckled. "Tomorrow at dawn, we depart for Star Luo City. You come with me."
Yao Lao's presence ended Yang Wudi's fear of Yang Fan fleeing.
With such a master, the boy could vanish anytime.
Bringing Yang Fan served two purposes:
1) Let the boy witness the world's complexities. No merchant lacked guile.
2) Prepare him to inherit the sect's medicinal business.
At nine years old—a Soul Ancestor—Yang Fan had no rival for leadership.
"Good." Yang Fan's heart warmed.
His time with Grandfather was precious.
And secretly—he hoped the Elephant Armor Sect would strike again.
It would be the perfect time to collect that 300,000-gold debt.
…
The highest art of lying? Say nothing.
Yang Wudi told no one of last night's events—not even the two elders.
He'd share the truth later, when the time was right.
And he kept his promise to Yao Lao:
He would carry this secret to his grave.
At dawn—
Yang Wudi, clansmen, and Yang Fan set out.
All believed Yang Wudi journeyed to explain the delay.
No joy marked their farewell.
Yet the stored 800,000-gold herbs had lifted their spirits.
The Breaking Clan would rise again.
En route—
Yang Fan deliberately walked last with Yang Wudi.
Learning from past mistakes, Yang Wudi now carried all Blood-Clotting Powder in his own storage soul tool.
Previously, he'd displayed it publicly to build reputation.
But never again. The Elephant Armor Sect's ambush had taught him well.
"Grandfather," Yang Fan asked softly, "have you consumed the Singular Velvet Sky Chrysanthemum I gave you?"
Though only a Soul Ancestor, Yang Fan's soul perception detected no change in his grandfather's aura.
Four days had passed since his return.
"Not yet." Yang Wudi sighed. Clan affairs demanded his constant attention. No time remained.
"After we return from Star Luo City… I'll absorb it."
A new hope stirred in his heart.
Could the very herb that forged Yue Guan into a Super Douluo… elevate me too?
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