Lin Ming didn't respond.
Tang San took a deep breath and stopped three steps from his bed.
"How old is your First Soul Ring?"
Lin Ming opened his eyes and looked at Tang San calmly.
"Why do you ask?"
Tang San pressed his lips together.
"I just want to confirm something."
"Confirm what?"
Tang San didn't answer. He only watched him in silence.
Lin Ming looked at him for two seconds, then closed his eyes again.
"I'm not telling you."
The two casual words were like the final straw.
Tang San stood where he was, his hand slowly tightening at his side.
He looked at the boy who had awakened his Martial Soul on the same day as him.
Holy Soul Village.
The same day.
The same Soul Master had awakened their Martial Souls.
That day, Lin Ming's Martial Soul had triggered an astonishing phenomenon. Golden light had torn through the clouds.
As for him, Tang San, all he had was a common patch of Blue Silver Grass.
Back then, he had told himself:
So what if there was a phenomenon?
One level of Innate Soul Power. A Trash Martial Soul, nothing more.
He had Innate Full Soul Power.
He had won.
But what about now?
Lin Ming had done what he couldn't.
He had gone alone to hunt a Soul Beast in the forest.
There had been no teacher to make a plan for him, no one to identify the Soul Beast's age.
Meanwhile, his own four-hundred-and-thirty-seven-year Soul Ring had been planned for him by a top theoretical expert, who had identified the Soul Beast's age.
He had risked his life to get it.
Why?
Why did his teacher always keep his eyes on someone else?
Tang San's eyes gradually reddened. He didn't want to return to those days without family affection.
"I asked how old your Soul Ring is."
His voice grew colder.
"Are you afraid to say?"
Lin Ming didn't open his eyes.
But Little Lei Yi sat up straight, its small body tensing slightly as its big blue eyes calmly watched Tang San's every move.
Tang San took a step forward.
"Four hundred years? Five hundred?"
He lowered his voice, each word seeming to grind out between his teeth.
"Did you kill it alone? Or... are you afraid to let people know someone else helped you?"
Lin Ming opened his eyes and looked at Tang San.
His gaze was too calm.
There was no anger, no defense, not even contempt.
For a moment, Tang San felt as if he had returned to the time before Martial Soul Awakening.
Back then, Tang Hao had seemed just as indifferent to him.
"That's none of your business."
Four words.
Tang San's breath caught.
The words were like a bucket of ice water poured over his head.
Indifference.
Absolute indifference.
Tang San's hand at his side clenched suddenly.
He didn't need to think. His body moved faster than his mind.
He flipped his left hand, and a tiny steel needle appeared between his fingers.
This was a Hidden Weapon technique etched into his muscle memory.
He wasn't trying to kill Lin Ming.
He wanted to put a crack in that eternally calm face.
He wanted to prove to Yu Xiaogang
that taking him as a disciple had been the right choice—that he was hundreds of times stronger than Lin Ming.
He aimed for an acupoint on Lin Ming's shoulder, one that would leave his whole arm numb for half an hour.
"Yi!"
A sharp chirp rang out.
Little Lei Yi vanished from Lin Ming's shoulder.
The next moment,
golden arcs of electricity burst across Tang San's wrist.
It wasn't an attack, but something more precise: a binding.
[Thunder Sacrifice: Bind]
This was a new Soul Skill Little Lei Yi had developed based on Thunder Sacrifice.
The current compressed into fine threads, as if they were arms he could direct at will.
The threads seemed alive as they climbed around Tang San's wrist—once, twice, three times.
The steel needle slipped from his fingers.
Clink.
It hit the floor with a clear sound.
"Ugh."
Tang San grunted. His entire right arm had gone numb.
The current continued up his arm, spreading toward his body.
He instinctively stepped back and reached for his waist with his left hand.
More Hidden Weapons were stored in Twenty-Four Moonlit Bridges.
But Little Lei Yi didn't give him the chance.
Golden arcs flashed again, this time wrapping around his left wrist.
Then his ankles.
Tang San stumbled, his balance thrown off.
He tried to release his Martial Soul.
Blue Silver Grass burst wildly from his palm, but the current ran back up its stems.
Tang San's Martial Soul was forced to retract.
From the moment he drew the steel needle to the moment both wrists were bound, only two breaths had passed.
Little Lei Yi's body had already grown from ten centimeters to its 1.29-meter battle form.
Hovering behind Tang San, it gripped the two fine threads of electricity and gave them a gentle tug.
Tang San dropped to one knee.
He raised his head, his eyes red.
Lin Ming had already gotten out of bed. He stood before Tang San, looking down at him.
"Cheap shot."
Lin Ming spoke.
Tang San said nothing. He knelt there, his hands bound behind his back by the electric threads, and looked up at Lin Ming.
He stared into those calm eyes.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say so many things.
But in the end, he said nothing.
"The steel needle."
Lin Ming glanced at the tiny Hidden Weapon on the floor but didn't touch it.
Who knew if it was poisoned?
"Was it coated with poison?"
Tang San's pupils contracted slightly.
"No. Just a paralytic."
His voice was hoarse.
Lin Ming looked at the needle and fell silent for two seconds.
"Next time, that needle will end up in you."
Tang San's body stiffened.
Lin Ming had already turned and headed back toward his bed. Little Lei Yi released the electric threads.
The golden strands, which burned and numbed wherever they touched, slid from Tang San's wrists and vanished into the air.
Its battle form quickly shrank until it was a ten-centimeter mascot again.
It landed on Lin Ming's shoulder and rubbed against his neck.
Its blue eyes glanced at Tang San, then turned away.
Tang San was still kneeling on the floor. The numbness lingered in his wrists, along with a sharp, burning sensation.
He didn't get up right away.
Not because he couldn't.
Because he didn't dare.
He was afraid that if he stood up, he would see indifference in Lin Ming's eyes.
After a long while,
Tang San slowly got to his feet.
He pushed open the door to Dorm Seven.
Beyond it lay a dim hallway.
He walked into it.
After Tang San left, Lin Ming opened his eyes where he sat cross-legged on the bed.
"Why... can't I sense him anymore?"
Ever since Tang San had made his move, Lin Ming had been tense, not daring to relax for even a moment.
"Yi."
Little Lei Yi made a sound.
As if asking: Will he come?
Lin Ming didn't answer.
From the moment Tang San attacked, to Little Lei Yi restraining him, to him dropping to his knees—
even now,
the faint, chaotic Soul Power hidden in the air still hadn't appeared.
It was gone.
On his way back to Nuoding Academy, he had found several beggars in every town.
In exchange for two Copper Soul Coins each, he'd asked them to deliver some letters to Spirit Hall.
The message was simple.
"A student in Nuoding City has been crippled. I heard it was a Titled Douluo with a hammer Martial Soul who did it. He's still in the city."
There was no signature.
No date.
He didn't know if it would work, but he had to try.
Now it seemed
to have worked.
For a Titled Douluo, killing a seven-year-old Work-Study Student would be easier than crushing an ant.
He wasn't willing to gamble his life on the other party's mercy.
Lin Ming gathered his thoughts and looked down at his palm.
Level fifteen.
Nowhere near enough.
His gaze fell on the ring on his finger.
He remembered a certain promise.
"Once you reach level twenty, you have to come to Skywater Academy."
Soon.
Before you continue