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He was silent.

His lips were pursed tightly, his teeth were clenched, and his chest was rising and falling violently, as if he was using all his strength to suppress something that was about to erupt.

Mo Xuan waited for a few seconds, but received no answer, and the uneasiness in his heart turned into clear panic.

He grabbed Zhao Wuji's arm, and his voice became crying again because of his anxiety:

"Teacher Zhao? You speak! Where is the dean? Where is the teacher? Why are we not in the college?!"

Zhao Wuji finally raised his head.

He looked at Mo Xuan's red and swollen eyes, filled with dependence and confusion, and felt as if his throat was blocked by a ball of water-soaked cotton.

In the end, he just squeezed out a few thunderous and extremely depressing words from the depths of his throat:

"We... are not in the academy right now."

He avoided the name Flender, and even more so the name that made him hate it with itch.

Zhao Wuji is afraid.

He was afraid that once he mentioned it, he would be unable to control the anger and guilt that almost burned him, and would lose control completely in front of this child.

But Mo Xuan seemed to have grasped some key clues. The confusion in his eyes became more and more intense, and he was about to continue asking--

Suddenly, his whole body froze.

An extremely strange expression appeared on Mo Xuan's face, mixed with confusion, disbelief, and a hint of vague fear that even he himself was not aware of.

Slowly, extremely slowly, he raised his hands in front of him.

The hands that were once able to skillfully control Moro Vine and release Spirit Skill looked normal at the moment.

But Mo Xuan stared at them, looking at them again and again, as if he wanted to find some answer from the palm prints.

Then, he suddenly raised his head and looked at Zhao Wuji.

The young man's eyes were frighteningly empty, and his voice was light and airy, with an almost dreamlike confusion:

"Teacher Zhao... Where is my Soul Power?"

"Why is my Soul Power... gone?"

He seemed to be asking Zhao Wuji, and also seemed to be asking himself:

"I can't feel...Soul Power anymore."

Zhao Wuji Hearing this sentence, he seemed to be hit hard by something.

He lowered his head suddenly, not daring to look at Mo Xuan's eyes that were gradually eroded by panic.

This strong man who was usually fearless looked like a child who had done something wrong. His shoulders were slightly drooped, and he squeezed out a suppressed and painful sigh from his throat.

He couldn't bear it.

I couldn't bear to tell the truth with my own words that could destroy all the hope of this young man.

And Mo Xuan's reaction has become more and more violent.

Because he discovered that the problem was far more than just "Soul Power disappears".

He closed his eyes, concentrated, and tried to use his mind to communicate and summon Martial Soul--Moro Vine sleeping in his body as he had done thousands of times in the past.

Once.

There was no response. The body was empty, only dead silence.

twice.

Still no familiar shadow of vines appeared, but instead, there was a slight tingling like a needle in the chest.

Three times.

Mo Xuan gritted his teeth and used up all his mental strength to "scream" and "pull"!

"Buzz--!!"

A bone-gnawing pain suddenly exploded from the depths of his soul without any warning, like a red-hot iron drill!

"Uh-huh--!"

Mo Xuan screamed, and his whole body suddenly curled up like a shrimp. A large amount of cold sweat suddenly broke out on his forehead, and his face was as pale as paper.

This time, he was completely panicked.

Complete, helpless, panic like falling into an ice cellar.

Martial Soul...Martial Soul is the innate origin of Soul Master!

How is it possible... how is it possible that it cannot be summoned?!

Even trying will cause such horrific pain?!

"Teacher Zhao! Teacher Zhao!!"

Mo Xuan seemed to have grasped the last straw, holding on to Zhao Wuji's arm, and his nails were almost embedded in the opponent's flesh.

He raised his head, his face full of fear and pleading on the verge of collapse, and his voice trembled:

"What the hell happened to me?!"

"I have no feeling in my legs, my Martial Soul is gone, my Soul Power is gone too..."

"What's going on Teacher Zhao?! Tell me! Please tell me!!"

Zhao Wuji Looking at the young face in front of him that was completely occupied by despair, he felt as if his heart was being grasped and tightened by an invisible hand. The pain was so painful that he could hardly breathe.

The little courage he had just mustered up instantly collapsed in front of Mo Xuan's tearful plea.

He lowered his head again and clenched his fists.

The carriage fell into a deathly silence.

There was only the sound of Mo Xuan's uncontrollable, frightened sobbing and Zhao Wuji's heavy and difficult breathing.

A few seconds later.

Zhao Wuji raised his head suddenly.

The struggle, pain, and intolerance on his face were eventually replaced by a determination that was almost broken.

He is not the kind of person who can hide secrets for a long time and can soothe people's hearts delicately.

He is Zhao Wuji, the hot-tempered, straightforward Zhao Wuji!

Instead of letting this child suffer in fear in a fog, why not... pierce the bloody truth with one knife!

He took a deep breath, stretched out his big palm-like hands, and grabbed Mo Xuan's shoulders that were shaking with excitement.

Zhao Wuji's hand was so strong that it caused pain in Mo Xuan's shoulder, but it also caused the boy who was on the verge of losing control to freeze temporarily, and he was forced to raise his face with blurred eyes and look at him.

Zhao Wuji stared at Mo Xuan and said seriously:

"Mo Xuan, don't worry!"

"Listen carefully - what I'm going to tell you next, you... you must calm down. Do you hear that?!"

His voice was hoarse, but extremely clear, and every word seemed to have been spoken with all his strength.

Mo Xuan was stunned by Zhao Wuji's unprecedented serious look. He looked at the other party blankly and nodded subconsciously, but tears still fell uncontrollably, and he repeated with a cry:

"Teacher Zhao... What the hell..."

Zhao Wuji gritted his teeth, and the muscles in his cheeks were tense.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there was only an almost cruel straightforwardness left inside:

"Your Martial Soul..."

He paused, as if trying to gather the strength to say the next sentence:

"Because I absorbed Spirit Ring that exceeded your body's limit... I couldn't bear the violent power... I exploded myself."

"Your Soul Power origin also collapsed and disappeared along with Martial Soul..."

He looked at Mo Xuan's eyes that suddenly widened with "impossible" written on them. He steeled his heart and continued to use that heavy voice to hit the last and heaviest blow:

"And because the Spirit Ring you absorbed far exceeds the limit that you can bear..."

"Soul Power backfired and severed the meridians and nerves below your waist."

"Your legs... for this reason..."

Zhao Wuji's voice finally trembled uncontrollably, but he still stared at Mo Xuan and said the cruel verdict word for word:

"... It's useless."

Wasted.

These two words, like two thunders, hit Mo Xuan's head one after another.

His whole body froze completely.

The blood on his face suddenly faded away, and even his lips turned a pale bluish white.

The red and swollen eyes instantly lost all their energy, their pupils were dilated and dilated, and they were "looking" at a certain point on the roof of the carriage.

His mouth was slightly open, but no sound came out.

The whole world seemed to have lost all color and sound at this moment, leaving only a humming blank.

A few seconds later.

An extremely slight sound, like a dreamy voice, floated out from Mo Xuan's throat:

"Beyond... the limit... absorb Spirit Ring... failure..."

He seemed to not understand the meaning of these words and repeated them mechanically.

Then, he shook his head violently, faster and harder, and his voice suddenly rose, full of crazy resistance:

"No... impossible! How is it possible?!"

"Teacher... how could the teacher be wrong?!"

"How could he lie to me?! How could he lie to me?!"

Like a trapped beast that suddenly woke up, Mo Xuan rushed forward, grabbing Zhao Wuji's broad shoulders with both hands, shaking it with all his strength, and shouting:

"Teacher Zhao! Tell me! This is fake! This is fake, right?!"

His eyes were almost split open, his face was mixed with tears, snot and a hope that was on the verge of madness. He was crying and laughing at the same time, and his voice was so sharp that it changed its tone:

"Are you trying to scare me?!"

"My Martial Soul is fine! My legs are fine too!"

"Teacher, his... his theory is not wrong!"

"He said that I have great talent! He said that Spirit Ring is the most suitable for me! He said -"

"He said shit!!!"

Zhao Wuji Finally couldn't bear it anymore.

The anger, guilt, and regret that had been accumulated for several days erupted like a volcano!

He roared suddenly, like thunder on the ground, and the whole carriage seemed to be buzzing!

This roar stunned Mo Xuan, who was in a frenzy of questioning.

Zhao Wuji was breathing heavily, his eyes were red, and veins were pulsing on his forehead.

He looked at the child in front of him who had been so tortured by Yu Xiaogang that even at this moment he still refused to believe the reality. The anger in his heart made his internal organs hurt.

But when he looked at Mo Xuan's dull face, which still contained a trace of false hope, his raging anger was quickly overwhelmed by a deeper and deeper sense of sadness and powerlessness.

Zhao Wuji raised his trembling hand, as if he wanted to touch Mo Xuan's head, but in the end he hung it down feebly.

He turned his face away and no longer looked at Mo Xuan. He just squeezed out a sentence from the depths of his throat that was extremely hoarse and extremely tired:

"Child... wake up."

"That 'teacher' of yours... what he said..."

"It's wrong from beginning to end."

Inside the carriage, it fell into dead silence again.

Only the heavy, chaotic breathing of Mo Xuan, as if it would stop in the next second, was left.

The hand he held on Zhao Wuji's shoulder slipped weakly, little by little.

The last faint light in those empty eyes was finally... completely extinguished.