The first rays of sunlight filtered through the treetops of the forest that surrounded Shrek Academy. Birds chirped lazily, and dew clung to the stone tiles of the courtyard. It was the year 2649 of the Douluo Calendar, and life of this half a year at Shrek Academy—though still distant from flourishing—had found a quiet rhythm.
Despite its humble appearance, the academy no longer bore the signs of disrepair it once had. Crumbling buildings had been reinforced. Roof tiles no longer threatened to collapse during the rain. Classrooms had functional windows, desks without termite holes, and even lanterns for evening study sessions.
All this was thanks to the unexpected investor: Li Wei.
Two hundred thousand gold coins had brought Shrek from the brink of ruin to passable legitimacy. Though he had taken half-control as part of the deal, Li Wei made it clear from the start—he would leave the management to Flender. The boy never once involved himself in faculty meetings or policy decisions.
This morning, as sunlight warmed the renovated training ground, a quiet buzz moved through the staffroom.
"I still can't believe we finally got our salaries," muttered Shao Xin, one of the Shrek academy instructor. He sat in a newly upholstered chair, swirling a porcelain cup of tea with visible pleasure.
Zhao Wuji snorted. "Hmph. I don't care about the money, but it feels good not having to argue with the vegetable seller every week."
Li Yusong chuckled, setting down a bundle of neatly organized lesson plans. "It's easier to teach when you're not worrying about your next meal. Who knew about that before?"
"Let's not get used to luxury," Flender said from behind his desk, though the subtle upturn of his lips betrayed his mood. "We still run a place for monsters, not nobles."
Lu Qibin, the healing specialist, rubbed his beard. "We've got better equipment now. Better beds. Even ink that doesn't run when it rains. This is no small change."
Flender leaned back in his chair, gazing out the window at the four students currently attending the academy.
Just four.
Dai Mubai, ever arrogant but steady. Ma Hongjun, fire-tempered and cheerful. Oscar, the meat-loving food-type spirit master. And then there was Li Wei—distant, composed, and unreadable.
Li Wei stood alone under the shade of a tree, the faint breeze stirring the edges of his Caelus-styled coat. His black and gold attire seemed almost out of place here, as though he had stepped out of a higher world and simply chosen to linger in theirs.
But he trained alone. Ate alone. Walked alone.
Even now, Oscar glanced toward him and whispered to Ma Hongjun, "Hey, does Li Wei ever talk about his family?"
Ma Hongjun chewed on a skewer. "Nah. He never mentions them. I asked once, and he just smiled and changed the subject."
"He's kind of cool, though," Oscar said. "Mysterious, like one of those lone sword-wielding heroes from the stories."
"Or a ghost," Hongjun added with a grin.
Li Wei heard none of it. Or perhaps he did and chose not to react. His eyes were on the morning sky.
'Another year has passed. Still no news from Spirit Hall. No signs of interference. Good.'
He clenched his hand slowly. The Diend Driver, dormant in his soul, pulsed faintly in response. He hadn't summoned any Riders since the match with Zhao Wuji. It wasn't necessary.
He'd grown more in silence than in combat.
His cultivation had advanced steadily, now firmly rooted in the realm of Spirit Ancestor. But more importantly, he'd refined his technique—his timing, precision, and inner focus.
Zhao Wuji strolled into the courtyard and crossed his arms. "Li Wei. Spar with me."
The others turned, startled.
Li Wei's eyes narrowed, then softened slightly. "You didn't hold back the last time."
"Neither did you." Wuji grinned. "But let's skip the fancy cards today. Just fists and footwork."
Li Wei nodded. "Very well."
The spar drew attention. Teachers gathered near the corridor. Dai Mubai leaned against the wall, watching intently.
The two faced each other in the center of the courtyard.
Zhao Wuji charged first—like a bull, straightforward and heavy. Li Wei sidestepped, weaving under his swing and striking upward with his palm.
"Sharp," Wuji muttered, blocking with his forearm.
They danced around each other. Wuji's heavy-handed martial arts met Li Wei's flexible, quick-stepping style. There were no flashy soul skills. Only instinct and experience.
Li Wei's monologue continued as they exchanged blows.
'He's holding back now, testing form and flow. Good. That means I can read him better. Right arm slower on the second swing. Old injury? No. Deliberate bait.'
He pivoted, avoiding a shoulder slam and tapping Wuji's spine with two fingers.
"Point," he said.
Wuji barked a laugh. "You're wasted on the battlefield."
After several rounds, they stepped back. Wuji exhaled, sweat beading on his brow. "You've improved. Significantly."
Li Wei offered a polite bow. "Thank you."
Flender called down from the office window. "Don't break my courtyard again!"
Wuji waved a hand, while Li Wei calmly walked toward the stone path leading to the dorms.
As the day waned, he passed the small garden near the main building. Several hired staff—ordinary villagers—were tending to the grounds. Some swept the paths, others repaired fences.
One older woman smiled at him. "Young master Wei. Thank you again for giving us work."
Li Wei paused, offering a slight nod. "You're welcome. It's Shrek's gain, not mine."
Behind his calm reply was a sense of quiet satisfaction. The academy now provided jobs. Fed mouths. Helped children dream.
That was enough—for now.
That night, Li Wei stood atop the tallest dorm roof, watching the stars. His Caelus coat fluttered in the wind.
'Just a little bit for one year to be reach. Soon, the others will arrive.'
He gazed down at the academy—a little brighter, a little more alive than before.
And though no one knew his true origins, his goals, or his family…
They would, eventually. When the time was right.
He reached into his sleeve and pulled out his martial soul—the Diend Driver glinting faintly within.
'When that time comes, I'll be ready.'