Aftermath Unsettled! Eyes in the Dark!

After Ma Hongjun's Evil Fire was suppressed, the following days returned to a state of calm. Yet, everyone knew this was only a temporary peace.

Ma Hongjun trained as usual every day. His accuracy with the Phoenix Holy Light Strike improved steadily, progressing from four Light Feather to five, with his hit rate stabilizing above eighty percent.

The Evil Fire did not lash out again, but he could feel that restless heat constantly suppressed deep within his heart, like a sleeping beast that could wake at any moment.

"Brother Wen, do you think I'll have to rely on you to suppress the Evil Fire every time it backlashes from now on?"

Ma Hongjun sat on the steps, holding one of Oscar's Big Sausage, but he had no appetite to eat it.

Fu Wen sat down beside him. "No. Every time you endure an Evil Fire backlash, the purifying power within your body grows stronger. Once you have accumulated enough, you will be able to suppress it yourself."

"Really?"

"Really." Fu Wen nodded. "But the prerequisite is that you must hold on until that time comes."

Ma Hongjun fell silent.

He understood what Fu Wen meant.

The frequency of the Evil Fire backlashes would only increase, and the intensity would grow greater.

If he had to rely on Fu Wen to suppress it every time, what would he do if Fu Wen wasn't by his side, or if Fu Wen's own soul power was insufficient?

"I will work hard." Ma Hongjun took a bite of the sausage and chewed vigorously.

"I know." Fu Wen patted his shoulder, stood up, and walked toward the training ground.

Oscar was on the training ground practicing with the Flying Sausage.

Not making the sausages, but eating them.

Flender had given him a task.

He had to fly for at least two hours every day, training his flight stability until it reached perfection.

"Brother Ao, how many laps have you flown today?" Ma Hongjun walked over and asked.

"Ten laps."

Oscar landed back on the ground, retracted his Light Wing, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Old Man said that when I can fly a lap through the woods with my eyes closed without hitting a tree, then I'll have passed."

"How long will that take to train?"

"I don't know." Oscar shook his head. "But it's better than not training at all."

Fu Wen stood to the side, saying nothing.

He was observing Oscar's flight trajectory.

Oscar's stability was much better than it had been a few days ago, but his turns were still somewhat stiff.

This was a sign of insufficient control over the Light Wing; there were no shortcuts, only more practice.

"Xiao Ao, don't force your turns." Fu Wen spoke up. "Decelerate early, tilt your body, and let the Light Wing naturally guide your direction."

Oscar paused, thought for a moment, and took off again.

This time, he followed Fu Wen's advice, decelerating early and tilting his body. Sure enough, the turn went much smoother.

"It works!"

Oscar shouted from the air and flew another lap. When he landed, his face was full of excitement. "Xiao Wen, you haven't flown many times yourself, how do you know these things?"

"Observation." Fu Wen said calmly. "That's how birds fly when they turn."

Oscar's mouth twitched, and he decided he didn't want to talk anymore.

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

Zhao Wuji walked over and followed his gaze. "Dean, these three students of yours each have their own strengths and their own problems. What is Xiao Wen's problem?"

Flender thought for a moment. "He's too steady."

"Being too steady is a problem?"

"If he were too steady, it wouldn't be a problem." Flender adjusted his glasses. "But I always feel like he is hiding something from me."

Zhao Wuji glanced at him and said nothing.

Suotuo City, south of the city, an inconspicuous inn.

On the second floor, in a room by the window.

A middle-aged man dressed in black sat at the table, holding a sausage that radiated a blue light—a Flying Sausage.

He didn't eat it; he simply held it under his nose to smell it, then placed it on the table.

"Well? Have you figured it out?" Another voice sounded from the corner.

The man in black shook his head. "No. The core of this sausage isn't the recipe; it's that child's Martial Soul and soul rings. It cannot be replicated."

"Then what do we do?"

"Watch." The man in black spat out the word. "Keep an eye on Shrek Academy, keep an eye on that child. There will eventually be an opportunity."

The person in the corner was silent for a moment, then stood up, pushed the door open, and left.

Business at the auction house was getting better and better.

The fame of the Flying Sausage had already spread beyond Suotuo City, with wealthy merchants and nobles from several surrounding cities coming to admire its reputation.

Five sausages were auctioned off each time, always fetching high prices; the lowest went for fifty-five Gold Soul Coin, while the highest soared to eighty.

Oscar's craftsmanship grew increasingly proficient, and the time required to produce five sausages had been shortened from half an incense stick's worth of time to just the duration of a cup of tea.

He had even discovered a little trick.

He would prepare four sausages first and wait until the auction began to make the fifth, ensuring the final one was at its peak freshness to fetch a better price.

Manager Gu looked at the ledger, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

The auction house took a ten percent commission; if five sausages sold for three hundred Gold Soul Coin, the auction house would take thirty.

Over a month, that amounted to over a hundred coins.

And that was just from the Flying Sausage alone.

"Manager Gu, has today's auction ended?" Oscar walked out from the backstage area.

"It has, it has."

Manager Gu closed the ledger: "Xiao Ao, the fifth sausage you made today sold for a high price of seventy-five Gold Soul Coin."

"Seventy-five?" Oscar was stunned: "Who bought it?"

"It was that Mr. Ning again." Manager Gu lowered his voice: "The one from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect."

Oscar frowned, but said nothing more.

Upon returning to Shrek Academy, Oscar told Flender that Ning Fengzhi had come again.

"Again?" Flender frowned: "How many times is this now?"

"The fifth time." Oscar held up five fingers: "Once a week, like clockwork."

"Does he always offer a high price?"

"Yes. Every time it's over seventy coins." Oscar paused: "Dad, do you think he's testing something?"

Flender didn't speak, looking toward Fu Wen instead.

Fu Wen thought for a moment and said: "Ning Fengzhi is a smart man. He knows the core of the Flying Sausage lies in Xiao Ao's Martial Soul and Soul Rings, so he won't make pointless attempts. He comes to buy one each time to show the people in his sect."

"Show the people in his sect?"

"Exactly." Fu Wen nodded: "To tell them that the Flying Sausage is real and worth paying attention to. But it's nothing shameful, so there's no need to study it in secret. He is stating his position: the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect is interested in the Flying Sausage, but they won't resort to underhanded methods."

Flender was silent for a moment, then nodded: "That makes sense. What should we do from now on?"

"Carry on as usual." Fu Wen said: "Auction as planned, train as scheduled. The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect is not an enemy, at least not for now."

At night.

Fu Wen lay in bed, his mind still occupied by the day's events.

Ning Fengzhi came once a week, buying one Flying Sausage each time.

This frequency was too stable—so stable that it didn't feel like research, but rather observation.

Observation of what?

Observing Oscar's progress?

Observing if the quality of the Flying Sausage had changed?

Or observing the reaction of Shrek Academy?

All were possible.

But what Fu Wen couldn't figure out was this.

The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect was one of the seven great sects of the continent, and Sect Master Ning Fengzhi was the strongest support-type Soul Master in the world today.

They didn't lack money, nor did they lack resources. Why would they be so interested in a single Flying Sausage?

Unless what they valued wasn't the sausage itself, but the person behind it.

Oscar.

A food-type Soul Master with Innate Full Soul Power, an extremely rare existence on the continent.

If the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect could win Oscar over, it would be a massive boost to the sect's support capabilities.

Fu Wen's eyes narrowed.

This wasn't a guess; it was a deduction.

Ning Fengzhi came once a week, bought only one sausage each time, never inquired about Oscar's background, and never said an extra word.

This wasn't a lack of interest; it was too much interest.

He was waiting, waiting for the right moment, waiting for Oscar to grow enough to be worth his personal intervention.

"Brother Wen, you're still awake?" Oscar's voice came from nearby.

"No." Fu Wen turned over: "Xiao Ao, I have a question for you."

"Go ahead."

"If one day, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect comes looking for you and asks you to join them, what would you choose?"

Oscar was stunned for a moment, falling into a long silence.

"I don't know." He finally said, "I only know that this place is my home. Dad, you, Xiao Pang, and Uncle Shao and the others—you are all my family."

"That is enough." Fu Wen closed his eyes. "Sleep."

Oscar gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment and closed his eyes as well.

Outside the window, the moon was full. Moonlight spilled in, illuminating the faces of the two youths.