Two Prongs!

"Understood!"

Ma Hongjun nodded vigorously and immediately began to practice.

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

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

The three Light Feather shot out, hitting the wooden target with precision.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three explosions rang out almost simultaneously, with almost identical power.

"Good!"

Oscar applauded from the side: "Those three shots were well done!"

Ma Hongjun grinned and looked back at Fu Wen.

Fu Wen nodded: "Not bad, that's exactly the feeling. Remember this sensation, practice it more, and let it become muscle memory."

"Mm!"

Ma Hongjun continued to practice.

Three at a time, three at a time; each round was not fast, but every single shot was solid.

After half an hour, seven or eight wooden targets had been replaced, but Ma Hongjun's gains were greater than the past half month combined.

Flender stood in the distance, watching the three children on the playground, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.

He did not walk over, just watched from afar.

Zhao Wuji appeared beside him at some point, arms crossed, also looking at the playground.

"Dean, these three students of yours are all extraordinary."

"Nonsense."

Flender pushed up his glasses: "If they aren't monsters, I don't recruit them."

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

"He uses it every day." Flender nodded: "He soaks for an hour every night, without fail."

"Without fail..." Zhao Wuji sighed: "This child has talent and is willing to put in the hard work. His future achievements will be limitless."

Flender did not speak, but the pride in his eyes could not be hidden.

On the playground, the sunlight spilled down, stretching the shadows of the three youths long.

Ma Hongjun was still practicing Light Feather, Oscar was counting targets for him on the side, while Fu Wen sat cross-legged nearby, eyes closed, circulating the Innate Divine Crocodile Art.

Everything was progressing in an orderly manner.

On the playground, Ma Hongjun continued to practice.

Three at a time, three at a time; after more than a dozen rounds, he was already able to steadily control the power of the three Light Feather to the same level.

"Ten for ten!"

Oscar shouted from the side: "Xiao Pang, you hit them all this round!"

Ma Hongjun stopped, caught his breath, and looked back at Fu Wen.

Fu Wen opened his eyes, stood up, walked to the wooden target to take a look, and nodded.

"Not bad, the power of three is stable now. Next, increase it to four."

"Alright!"

Ma Hongjun didn't waste words and immediately began to try.

Four Light Feather condensed on the wings of the Phoenix Phantom, their radiance slightly dimmer than when there were three.

Fu Wen watched, saying nothing.

This was a normal phenomenon.

The total amount of soul power was fixed; the more it was divided, the smaller the power of each individual feather would naturally be.

The key to the problem was not to keep every feather at maximum power, but to find a balance between power and quantity.

Ma Hongjun flapped his wings.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Four Light Feather shot out, bang, bang, bang, bang.

Three hit the bullseye, but one missed, grazing the edge of the wooden target and exploding a pit into the ground.

"One missed."

Oscar said.

"I know."

Ma Hongjun scratched his head: "When I released that last one, I felt my soul power hitch."

"Why did it hitch?"

Fu Wen asked.

Ma Hongjun thought for a moment: "Maybe it's because I wanted to hit all four so badly that I got distracted. The first three went out smoothly, but I hesitated on the fourth."

Fu Wen nodded: "That's it. Your current soul power is enough to support four Light Feather, no problem. The issue lies in your mindset. You keep thinking 'I must hit,' which ends up distorting your movements."

"Then what should I do?"

"Practice." Fu Wen spat out the word: "Practice until releasing four Light Feather doesn't require thought, until it's as natural as breathing."

Ma Hongjun took a deep breath and continued to practice.

Four at a time, four at a time.

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

For the next ten rounds, it improved to seventy percent.

After another ten rounds of practice, it stabilized at eighty percent.

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

"That's it for today."

Fu Wen looked at the sky: "Continue tomorrow."

Ma Hongjun plopped down on the ground, gasping for air.

Oscar handed over a Big Sausage: "Eat one to recover your stamina."

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

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

"You're practicing soul skills, I'm practicing my body; it's different."

Fu Wen sat down beside him: "Your path is to use flames and Light Feather to keep enemies at a distance and prevent them from getting close. My path is to use my body and strength to tear enemies apart, without needing long-range attacks. Neither path is superior; the one that suits you is the best."

Ma Hongjun thought about it and felt it made sense.

"Then will I be able to fly like Brother Ao in the future?"

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

"Seventh ring..." Ma Hongjun counted on his fingers: "That'll be many years from now."

"That's why you need to work even harder."

Fu Wen patted his shoulder: "Reach the seventh ring sooner, and you can fly on your own sooner."

"Yeah!"

Ma Hongjun nodded vigorously.

In the cafeteria, Shao Xin had already set the food on the table.

It was rare that Flender and Zhao Wuji were both away today, having gone to Suotuo City on business.

Li Yusong and Lu Qibin sat in the corner, chatting in low voices while they ate.

"Uncle Shao, what's for dinner?"

Ma Hongjun started salivating the moment he entered the cafeteria.

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

Shao Xin walked out carrying a large bowl: "Is it enough?"

"Enough! Plenty!"

Ma Hongjun trotted off to wash his hands.

Oscar was already sitting at the table, picking up his chopsticks to start shoveling in rice.

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

The three of them ate with great relish, neither saying a word.

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

"Xiao Wen, do you think the price of the Flying Sausage could be raised a bit more?"

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

"I just feel... at sixty Gold Soul Coin each, is it too cheap?"

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

"The price isn't set by you; it's set by the market."

Fu Wen put down his chopsticks: "If people are willing to pay sixty to buy it, that means sixty is reasonable. If no one is willing to pay one hundred, it's useless for you to set it at one hundred."

Oscar thought about it and felt it made sense.

"Then when can I raise my prices?"

"Once you reach the third ring and your sausage's duration and speed improve, you can naturally raise them. No need to rush now; focus on building your reputation first."

"Won't people get jealous of us?"

"People are already jealous."

Fu Wen said indifferently, "That man in black, do you remember him?"

Oscar nodded: "I remember, the one who spent seventy coins to buy your sausage."

"He has bought more than once."

Fu Wen said: "He came again last week and bought a few more."