Level Eighteen!

Fu Wen paused. "But I am not worried."

"Why?"

"Because the core of the Flying Sausage is not the recipe, but Xiao Ao's Martial Soul and Spirit Ring."

Fu Wen continued, "Even if others study it for a hundred years, they will never be able to replicate it."

Flender thought about it and felt it made sense.

"So you mean... we don't need to worry about him?"

"No need."

Fu Wen shook his head. "If he is willing to spend seventy Gold Soul Coin to buy it, let him buy it."

"We earn our money, and he can do his research."

"Once he has thoroughly studied the sausage and realizes it cannot be copied at all, he will naturally give up."

Flender laughed.

"You brat, this is an open scheme."

"Open scheme or hidden plot, it doesn't matter."

Fu Wen's lips curled slightly upward. "As long as it makes money, that's all that counts."

In the days that followed, the man in black did not appear again.

The auctions for the Flying Sausage continued as usual, five sessions a week, each one packed to capacity.

The price stabilized between fifty and sixty, with only a few suckers occasionally paying a high price.

Oscar's technique became increasingly proficient, and the time it took to make five sausages shortened from the initial length of an incense stick to half that time.

He even discovered a trick.

He would prepare four sausages first and wait until the auction started to make the fifth, ensuring the last one was the freshest and could fetch a good price.

Flender praised him for having a head for business.

Oscar chuckled. "I learned it all from Brother Wen."

Fu Wen rolled his eyes. "I never taught you that."

"Well, you're teaching me now."

Oscar was thick-skinned and righteous about it.

Ma Hongjun chimed in from the side, "Brother Ao, when will you teach me? I want to make money too."

"You should focus on controlling your Evil Fire first, lest you burn down Shrek Academy again."

Oscar patted his head. "When you reach the second ring, go hunt for a Spirit Skill that can make money too."

"Hunt for what?"

Ma Hongjun blinked his eyes.

"Hunt for... a chicken that can lay golden eggs."

Oscar thought for a moment and said.

"Get lost!"

Ma Hongjun kicked out at him.

The two of them chased each other around the courtyard, laughing and fighting.

Fu Wen sat on the steps, watching them, his lips curling slightly upward.

Days passed by, one after another.

Peaceful, but not dull.

Everyone was growing, and everyone was becoming stronger.

And he, too, was waiting.

Waiting for the day when the time was ripe.

When that time came, he would let everyone know.

The China Divine Crocodile is not someone to be trifled with.

At night.

Shrek Academy, dormitory.

Ma Hongjun was already fast asleep, snoring softly with a trail of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Oscar was asleep too; after a busy day at the auction house, he was too tired to even turn over.

Fu Wen sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes closed, his breathing steady and long.

Within his body, the Innate Divine Crocodile Art was in motion.

Soul power flowed slowly along a specific path, penetrating his limbs and bones, delving deep into his muscles and skeleton, before finally converging at his spine and surging straight toward his brain.

One cycle, two cycles, three cycles...

Each cycle was a fraction faster than the last, and each was a degree stronger than the one before.

Ever since he had touched the threshold of level eighteen last time, Fu Wen could clearly feel his internal soul power becoming increasingly full.

It was like pouring water into a bucket; the water level was rising slowly, and it only lacked that final cup to overflow.

Yet, it was precisely this last cup that had kept him stuck for several days.

Fu Wen was not anxious.

The Innate Divine Crocodile Art taught him that in the path of cultivation, the greatest taboo was a restless and impatient heart.

When the water arrives, the channel forms naturally.

To force it would only invite a deviation in cultivation.

Thus, he continued to circulate his technique every day, unhurried and steady, neither contending nor rushing.

What is meant to come will eventually come.

Tonight, however, seemed different.

When the soul power reached the seventh cycle, Fu Wen sensed a hint of something unusual.

The stagnation that had been blocking a certain point in his spine suddenly loosened.

It was as if a stone were being slowly washed away by a current, the cracks growing larger and wider.

Fu Wen steadied his mind, continuing his circulation without panic.

The eighth cycle.

The soul power broke through the first barrier, surging forth like a burst dam.

Fu Wen's face flushed red, and fine beads of sweat seeped from his forehead.

But his hands did not tremble, and his breathing remained steady.

The ninth cycle.

The soul power roared through his body, piercing every meridian and every acupoint.

Fu Wen could clearly feel his body undergoing a subtle transformation.

Under the scouring of the soul power, his muscle fibers became tougher, a faint bronze luster appeared on the surface of his bones, and even his breathing grew deeper and more powerful.

The tenth cycle.

Hum!

A low, muffled sound emanated from within Fu Wen.

It was not a sound so much as a vibration.

It was like a great bell being struck, the resonance lingering within him for a long time.

That barrier which had blocked him for days shattered completely.

The soul power, like a wild horse off its tether, rampaged through his body before slowly gathering and flowing into his dantian.

Level eighteen.

Fu Wen opened his eyes and exhaled a breath of turbid air.

The breath remained condensed, shooting out like a white arrow for three feet before dissipating.

"Level eighteen."

Fu Wen looked down at his hands.

On the surface of his skin, bronze-colored patterns flickered in and out of view; this was the external manifestation of the Innate Divine Crocodile Art reaching a certain level.

He clenched his fist, feeling the power surging within him.

It was at least thirty percent stronger than at level seventeen.

His soul power was purer, his body tougher, and his mind clearer.

This was the terrifying aspect of the Innate Divine Crocodile Art.

When others leveled up, only their soul power increased.

When he leveled up, his soul power, physical body, and spirit all improved in unison.

"At this rate, in another two months, I will be able to attempt the second ring."

Fu Wen calculated silently.

From the first ring to the second, level twenty was the threshold.

He was currently at level eighteen, two levels away.

Two months was more than enough.

"Brother Wen... did you break through again?"

Ma Hongjun's voice drifted over from the side, thick with sleep.

He rolled over, rubbing his eyes as he looked at Fu Wen.

"Mm."

Fu Wen nodded.

"What level are you now?"

"Eighteen."

"Eighteen..."

Ma Hongjun muttered, then closed his eyes again.

Two seconds later, he suddenly bolted upright.

"Eighteen?! You leveled up again?!"

"Keep it down, don't wake Xiao Ao."

Fu Wen frowned.

Ma Hongjun covered his mouth, his eyes wide as saucers.

"Brother Wen, isn't this way too fast!"

"I'm still only level twelve, and you're already at eighteen!"

"How long has it even been since you awakened?"

Fu Wen glanced at him: "You only awakened a little over a month ago; level twelve is already quite fast."

"But you're faster than me!"

Ma Hongjun looked unconvinced.

"I am me, you are you."

Fu Wen said indifferently: "Don't compare yourself to others, just compare yourself to who you were."

"If you are stronger today than you were yesterday, and stronger this month than last, that is enough."

Ma Hongjun thought about it and decided that made sense.

"Then... then when will I be able to catch up to you?"

"Why would you want to catch up to me?"

Fu Wen rolled his eyes: "Focus on controlling your Evil Fire and mastering your Phoenix Holy Light Strike; that's worth more than anything else."