Martial Soul Control Training!

Fu Shiyan spoke calmly, then took out a writing brush and a sheet of white paper.

"The second step is to use your Blue Silver Grass to Entangle the brush handle. Imagine the Blue Silver Grass is your fingers, and control it to write on the paper."

"Only when the handwriting, brushwork, and force are no different from what you write by hand can this stage be considered introductory."

Tang San respectfully accepted the brush and immediately tried controlling it with his Blue Silver Grass.

However, the brush handle was difficult to steady within the vines' Entanglement. His strokes slanted, the ink smeared, and the result was vastly different from his usual elegant, neat handwriting.

After several consecutive attempts, the results were all far from satisfactory.

He stopped, frowned slightly, and looked at Fu Shiyan with a hint of confusion in his voice.

"Master, please forgive this disciple for speaking frankly."

"Using Blue Silver Grass to Entangle a brush and write requires delicate, complex movements. In actual combat, it seems... not very useful?"

"This disciple is slow-witted and does not understand the deeper purpose of this training."

He was not questioning his master. He was simply accustomed to investigating the practical purpose behind every exercise.

Fu Shiyan was not angry. Instead, he smiled faintly. "You think it isn't practical? Then watch carefully."

With that, he did not even rise. He merely stirred his thoughts.

In an instant, a slender Blue Silver Tree vine burst from the ground beside him.

The vine then lightly curled around another spare writing brush nearby and dipped it fully into the ink.

The next moment, the Blue Silver vine moved across the white paper with a unique rhythm and cadence, its brush strokes flowing like dragons and serpents.

In the blink of an eye, it had written a short poem in exquisite calligraphy!

Tang San stared in utter astonishment.

He had never imagined that a Martial Soul could be used for such delicate writing, much less controlled with such terrifying precision!

Fu Shiyan dismissed the vine and looked at Tang San seriously.

"Let me ask you: if your control over your Martial Soul reached such a level, where it obeyed your commands like an arm and revealed every detail perfectly, then what level would your Blue Silver Grass reach in actual combat?"

He casually pointed toward another wooden post in the distance.

"For example, the most basic Entanglement restraint."

"If this Spirit Skill relies on a Spirit Ring, it can only activate in a fixed, rigid pattern."

"But if your control is refined enough, you will not need a specific Spirit Ring to use it. Moreover, unlike Spirit Skills attached to Spirit Rings, attack methods born from control over your Martial Soul will grow stronger as the quality of your Martial Soul improves."

"And when your control advances even further, you can weave the Blue Silver Grass into an impenetrable net shield for defense, turn it into a forest of needles that leaves no opening when attacking, or make it into nimble tendrils for climbing and borrowing force while moving..."

"Its transformations all lie within a single thought."

"Spirit Skills bestowed by Spirit Rings are shortcuts, but they also solidify your thinking and the possibilities of your Martial Soul."

Fu Shiyan concluded, "Refined control is the key to uncovering a Martial Soul's own potential."

"You think writing is impractical now because you have not even achieved the most basic 'stable control.'"

"When you can truly control it down to the finest detail, you will discover that you can casually achieve the effects of many low-level Spirit Skills in more flexible and more powerful ways. Why waste a precious Spirit Ring slot to imprint a rigid pattern?"

Tang San suddenly understood, and his admiration for his master deepened further.

"This disciple understands! This disciple was too shortsighted."

"If the foundation is unstable, even high-level Spirit Skills are like trees without roots, unable to display their true might."

Then, he calmed his mind once more and threw himself into the tedious writing practice.

Days passed one after another.

Tang San did not immediately make a breakthrough in writing, but he quickly noticed another remarkable change—his basic control over Blue Silver Grass was improving at an astonishing rate.

When he had completed the first task before, he had already been able to steadily Entangle rocks.

But on the third day of practicing writing, during a break, he casually practiced Entanglement on a small tree beside him and discovered that the Entanglement he used so casually—

Its overall effect and power were faintly no weaker than the "Entanglement" Spirit Skill he had seen in the first simulation, which required a hundred-year Spirit Ring to activate!

Yet through only a few days of basic training in refined Martial Soul control, without relying on any Spirit Skill, he had achieved a similar effect—and even showed greater potential in certain aspects!

Meanwhile, during the time he spent with Tang San, Fu Shiyan's impression of him had indeed been gradually changing.

At first, he had merely regarded Tang San as a tool for obtaining Faith Power and had not held much fondness for this "Tang God King" from the original work.

But Tang San's conduct after becoming his disciple had touched even the soul of a man who had drifted through Douluo Continent for ten years and seen the coldness and warmth of human nature.

This kid was too sensible, and too starved for affection.

Every morning, a bowl of porridge and several small dishes, warmed to just the right temperature, would be placed punctually on the stone table in his courtyard.

Before going to sleep each night, Tang San would always come to pay his respects, meticulously reporting his insights and doubts from that day's cultivation. His attitude was respectful to the point of near reverence.

The admiration and dependence in those eyes made it seem as though Tang San truly regarded him as both teacher and father.

Fu Shiyan knew that Tang San had been an orphan in the Tang Sect in his previous life. In this life, his mother had died early, while his father, Tang Hao, had sunk into grief and neglected him.

In the original work, Yu Xiaogang's appearance had, to a certain extent, filled that emotional void—although Yu Xiaogang's motives had been impure and his theories mistaken, he had at least given Tang San attention and guidance.

(Though it had been guidance in the wrong direction.)

And now, by a twist of fate, that role had fallen upon him.

Watching Tang San train with complete focus, even with a desperate edge to his earnestness, Fu Shiyan occasionally wondered whether, aside from using him, he could truly fulfill some of his responsibilities as a master.

After all, this kid's talent and character were indeed worth cultivating.

Five days passed quickly.

Tang San had already gained an initial grasp of controlling his Martial Soul for writing. Though he was still some distance from making it nearly indistinguishable from writing by hand, his progress was obvious.

He could also clearly feel that his control over his Martial Soul was becoming increasingly natural. Many movements that had previously required deliberate effort could now be completed almost as soon as a thought arose.

That evening, as Fu Shiyan planned the details of his next contact with Oscar in the courtyard, a streak of deep-blue light quietly descended into the yard, transforming into the Caomu Huashen formed from the "Blue Silver Seed" he had previously given Fu Ze.

At the same time, a black streak of light descended from the sky, revealing Fu Ze's steady figure.

"Young Master, this subordinate has returned." Fu Ze dropped to one knee in salute.

Fu Shiyan nodded. Rather than listening to Fu Ze's report first, he reached out and directly touched the Caomu Huashen.

The Avatar transformed into motes of light and merged into his body. A clear sequence of memories swiftly unfolded in his mind.

[Memory scene: Sunset Forest, outside the poison formation]

Following his instructions, Fu Ze had searched Sunset Forest for two days. Relying on his keen perception of energy fluctuations, he had finally discovered the sprawling Bilin Snake Poison Formation at the edge of an area shrouded in mist, where the vegetation was oddly colored.

Poisonous fog filled the air. Ordinary Soul Masters would not dare approach it at all.

Fu Ze did not force his way in. He released the immense Soul Power of a level ninety-five Title Douluo, sending it directly into the poisonous fog.

Within moments, the poisonous fog churned violently. An old man with ink-green hair, a tall and thin build, green-glowing eyes, and a gloomy complexion appeared at the edge of the poison formation like Gui Mei. He was none other than Poison Douluo Dugu Bo.

His gaze toward Fu Ze was filled with vigilance and hostility. The phantom of the Jade Phosphorous Serpent Emperor flickered around him as the poisonous fog grew restless.

"Who dares trespass upon this old man's territory?!" Dugu Bo's voice was hoarse and shrill.