A Two-Pronged Approach!

"Understood!"

Ma Hongjun nodded hard and immediately began practicing.

This time, he condensed only three Light Feathers, took a deep breath, and swept his wings.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

The three Light Feathers shot out, hitting the wooden targets dead-on.

Boom, boom, boom!

Three explosions rang out almost simultaneously, each about equally powerful.

"Good!"

Oscar clapped from the side. "Those three shots were great!"

Ma Hongjun grinned and turned to look at Fu Wen.

Fu Wen nodded. "Not bad. That's the feeling. Remember it and practice a few more times until it becomes muscle memory."

"Mm!"

Ma Hongjun continued practicing.

Three at a time, again and again. He didn't fire quickly, but every shot landed solidly.

After half an hour, they'd gone through seven or eight wooden targets, but Ma Hongjun had gained more than he had in the past half-month.

Flender stood in the distance, watching the three children on the training ground, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

He didn't go over. He simply watched from afar.

At some point, Zhao Wuji appeared beside him. Arms folded across his chest, he watched the training ground too.

"Dean, your three students are all something else."

"Of course."

Flender adjusted his glasses. "I don't take in anyone who isn't a monster."

"Is Xiao Wen still using that medicinal bath formula?" Zhao Wuji asked.

"He's been using it all along." Flender nodded. "He soaks in it for an hour every night, without fail."

"Without fail..." Zhao Wuji sighed. "That boy has talent, and he's willing to work hard. His future achievements will be limitless."

Flender said nothing, but the pride in his eyes was impossible to hide.

Sunlight streamed down over the training ground, stretching the three boys' shadows long across the ground.

Ma Hongjun was still practicing Light Feather, Oscar was counting targets beside him, and Fu Wen sat cross-legged nearby, eyes closed as he circulated the Innate Divine Crocodile Art.

Everything was moving forward in an orderly fashion.

On the training ground, Ma Hongjun was still practicing.

Three at a time, again and again. After firing more than ten rounds, he could reliably keep the power of all three Light Feathers at the same level.

"Ten shots, ten hits!"

Oscar shouted from the side. "Xiao Pang, you hit with every shot that round!"

Ma Hongjun stopped to catch his breath, then turned to look at Fu Wen.

Fu Wen opened his eyes, stood up, and walked over to inspect the wooden targets. He nodded.

"Not bad. You've got the power of three under control. Next, increase it to four."

"Okay!"

Ma Hongjun didn't waste any words and immediately started trying.

Four Light Feathers gathered along the wings of the Phoenix Phantom. Their glow was a little dimmer than when he'd formed three.

Fu Wen noticed, but said nothing.

That was normal.

The total amount of Soul Power was fixed. The more feathers it was divided among, the weaker each one would naturally be.

The key wasn't to keep every feather at maximum power, but to find a balance between power and quantity.

Ma Hongjun swept his wings.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

The four Light Feathers shot out. Boom, boom, boom, boom.

Three hit the bull's-eyes. One went wide, skimming past the edge of a wooden target before exploding in the ground and leaving a crater.

"One missed," Oscar said.

"I know."

Ma Hongjun scratched his head. "When I fired that last one, I felt my Soul Power catch for a moment."

"Why did it catch?" Fu Wen asked.

Ma Hongjun thought it over. "Maybe I was trying too hard to hit with all four, and it distracted me. The first three came out smoothly, but I hesitated on the fourth."

Fu Wen nodded. "Exactly. Your Soul Power is enough to support four Light Feathers. The problem is your mindset. You keep thinking, 'I have to hit,' and that makes your movements fall out of shape."

"Then what should I do?"

"Practice." Fu Wen gave him a single word. "Practice until you can fire four Light Feathers without thinking, as naturally as breathing."

Ma Hongjun took a deep breath and continued practicing.

Four at a time, again and again.

In the first ten rounds, his hit rate was only fifty percent.

In the next ten, it rose to seventy percent.

After ten more rounds, he stabilized at eighty percent.

Ma Hongjun's clothes were soaked with sweat, and his round face was flushed, but he didn't complain of being tired.

"That's enough for today."

Fu Wen glanced at the sky. "We'll continue tomorrow."

Ma Hongjun plopped down on the ground and panted heavily.

Oscar handed him a Big Sausage. "Have one. It'll help you recover your strength."

Ma Hongjun took it and finished it in a few bites. Some color returned to his face.

"Brother Wen, when do you think I'll be able to smash a big rock with one punch, like you?"

"You're training a Soul Skill, while I'm training my body. It's not the same."

Fu Wen sat down beside him. "Your path is to use flames and Light Feathers to keep enemies at a distance and stop them from getting close. My path is to tear enemies apart with my body and strength. I don't need ranged attacks. Neither path is better than the other. The best one is the one that suits you."

Ma Hongjun thought it over and decided that made sense.

"Then, someday, will I be able to fly like Brother Ao?"

"When you reach the seventh ring, you'll be able to fly on your own. Until then, just eat Xiao Ao's Flying Sausage."

"The seventh ring..." Ma Hongjun counted on his fingers. "That'll take years."

"Then you have all the more reason to work hard."

Fu Wen patted him on the shoulder. "Reach the seventh ring sooner, and you'll be able to fly on your own sooner."

"Mm!"

Ma Hongjun nodded hard.

In the dining hall, Shao Xin had already laid out the food.

It was rare for Flender and Zhao Wuji to be absent today. They'd gone to Suotuo City on business.

Li Yusong and Lu Qibin sat in a corner, eating and chatting quietly about something.

"Uncle Shao, what are we having today?"

As soon as Ma Hongjun entered the dining hall, he began to drool.

"Braised pork ribs, stir-fried vegetables, and tomato egg-drop soup."

Shao Xin came out carrying a large bowl. "Is that enough?"

"Plenty! Plenty!"

Ma Hongjun scurried off to wash his hands.

Oscar was already seated at the table. He picked up his chopsticks and started shoveling in rice.

Fu Wen washed his hands unhurriedly, sat down, and picked up his bowl.

The three of them ate with relish, none of them saying a word.

Halfway through the meal, Oscar suddenly put down his chopsticks.

"Xiao Wen, do you think I could raise the price of the Flying Sausage a little more?"

Fu Wen looked up at him. "Why do you want to raise the price?"

"I just feel like... sixty Gold Soul Coins for one—isn't that too cheap?"

Oscar scratched his head. "After all, it's something that can save your life."

"You don't set the price yourself. The market does."

Fu Wen put down his chopsticks. "If people are willing to pay sixty Gold Soul Coins, then sixty is reasonable. If nobody's willing to pay a hundred, setting the price at a hundred won't help."

Oscar thought it over and decided that made sense.

"Then when can I raise the price?"

"Once you reach the third ring and the sausage's duration and speed improve, you'll naturally be able to raise the price. Don't rush it for now. First, build up your reputation."

"Could someone get jealous of us?"

"Someone already is."

Fu Wen said calmly, "Do you remember that man in black?"

Oscar nodded. "The one who paid seventy Gold Soul Coins for your sausage?"

"He's bought more than once."

Fu Wen continued, "He came again last week and bought a few more."