The forest air had changed.
Tang San sat quietly under a massive, age-worn tree whose bark was split and scarred by time. The ground beneath him was still stained with the lingering aura of battle. His confrontation with the Yellow-Eyed Tiger had left not only physical strain, but something deeper—a seed of pressure that quietly grew within.
He didn't immediately return to the academy. Instead, he remained there for hours, letting the sounds of nature return to the clearing. He was breathing evenly, meditating with complete focus. His spirit power circulated steadily, refined by the Mysterious Heaven Technique, flowing through every meridian with clarity and precision.
There was no rush.
That was something he had come to understand through pain and repetition—true strength came slowly, like rain softening a stone. And today, even in the stillness, he felt himself growing.
Not in giant leaps.
But in something better—control.
---
The Cultivation Circle
He had made camp near a quiet brook. With the spirit beast battle concluded, Grandmaster had told him to take several days to consolidate his growth before thinking about his next steps.
Tang San obeyed without question.
He sat cross-legged now, surrounded by stones he'd arranged in a simple formation. Each one resonated faintly with traces of spiritual energy gathered from the forest. It wasn't a proper cultivation array—he didn't have the resources for that. But even this crude method allowed him to draw more of the natural essence into his body.
And with each breath, Tang San pulled in spirit energy that was subtly filtered and intensified.
The Mysterious Heaven Technique had been running steadily all this time. Though others would see him as just an ordinary spirit master using an external breathing technique, the truth lay deeper. Hidden beneath his clothes, the black stone embedded near his dantian glowed faintly with each breath.
It had merged completely with his spiritual core after his battle with the tiger. Since then, it had become silent—neither guiding nor interfering—but it now served a unique function: concealment.
The true nature of his technique could no longer be sensed by anyone else, not even Grandmaster. Tang San didn't know whether to feel relief or suspicion. All he knew was that it helped him, and so long as it did, he would keep moving forward.
The technique was mysterious. Deadly, even. Anyone else who attempted to copy or replicate its internal pathways would find their spiritual core shattered. But to Tang San, it worked like a silent partner—absorbing spiritual energy a bit faster each day.
And now, for the first time, he felt his body on the verge of something new.
---
A Subtle Breakthrough
Tang San's eyes slowly opened as he exhaled.
A faint mist rose from his skin, evaporating into the twilight air. His body felt lighter—not in terms of mass, but in tension. The accumulation of spirit power had reached a threshold. Not enough for a new spirit ring, but enough to enter a new stage of control.
He didn't need a teacher to tell him.
He had broken through a barrier of sensitivity.
His sense of spiritual fluctuations in the surrounding world had expanded. He could now feel tiny pulses of energy from creatures hidden far in the forest. Even insects crawling on bark gave off vibrations that he hadn't noticed before.
His cultivation hadn't jumped forward in power—but his sensitivity had.
The Mysterious Heaven Technique had quietly tuned his senses, sharpening them with a slow but relentless edge. Now, he could sense incoming threats before they arrived. He could adapt faster in battle. And most importantly, he could better understand his Blue Silver Grass.
It responded to him with more fluidity now—more like a partner than a tool.
Tang San smiled faintly.
This was real growth.
Not flashy.
Not dramatic.
Just steady progress.
---
Back at the Academy
When he finally returned to the Nuoding Academy, days had passed. The students looked up in surprise when they saw him walk in, covered in dust and forest leaves.
Xiao Wu was the first to greet him, sprinting over with her usual enthusiasm. "You're back! Did you finally fight a tiger or something?"
Tang San chuckled. "Something like that."
Grandmaster soon arrived as well. He studied Tang San for a moment, and although he didn't comment on anything, his eyes narrowed slightly as if he sensed a subtle change. Perhaps he noticed the pressure around Tang San's spiritual energy had lightened. Or perhaps it was simply the steadiness in Tang San's expression.
"Well done," Grandmaster finally said. "But your foundation is still early. Don't rush for the next spirit ring yet. The second is even more dangerous than the first. You'll need proper preparation."
Tang San nodded without hesitation. "I understand."
"I've arranged a different kind of training for you this week."
"Oh?"
"You've built combat awareness through beasts. Now, you will train with people. Real opponents who think, adapt, and use technique."
Tang San's expression turned serious.
"Will it be sparring with senior students?"
"No," Grandmaster replied. "You'll train with instructors from the outer halls. They won't go easy on you."
Tang San's fingers tightened slightly. "I'm ready."
"You think you are," Grandmaster said calmly. "But this will teach you how wrong you are. Good. Go rest. Your real pressure begins tomorrow."
---
Nightfall
That night, Tang San didn't cultivate.
Instead, he stared at the moon through his small dorm window, lying on his back, arms folded behind his head.
The battle in the forest still echoed in his mind—not the movements, not the danger—but the clarity of the moment. For the first time in this life, he had fought not to survive, but to test himself. To see how far he had come.
And the answer was clear.
He was still weak.
But he was getting stronger. Slowly. Consistently. With every breath, with every spirit particle drawn into his soul, he was advancing one small step at a time.
The world was large. The path to become a top spirit master was long.
But Tang San had patience.
He closed his eyes.
The night wind passed gently through the open window, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant flowers.
Tomorrow, new pressure would fall on his shoulders.
But tonight, he slept soundly.
---
End of Chapter 20