Eight years old.
The next day.
"The next day..." he suddenly said, his voice so soft that only Tang San beside him could hear. "In the Sky Screen World, I spent eleven years with the Creation Institute. Eleven years, with Spirit Hall's full support, the insights of every Titled Douluo on the continent, and countless experiments and deductions. I discovered nothing. Yet Su Mo did it in a single day when he was eight."
After saying that, it was as though something had been drained from him. Not strength, but the spirit that had stubbornly sustained him for thirty years.
"Teacher..." Tang San wanted to say something.
Yu Xiaogang waved his hand. When he raised his face, his eyes had actually reddened, but he refused to let the moisture fall.
"All my life, I, Yu Xiaogang, have never considered myself mediocre. I studied Martial Soul theory and wrote the Ten Core Competencies of Martial Soul, never daring to slack off. Yet I cannot even break through to Soul Elder. Su Mo created the Ring Condensation Technique at eight, and now I am not even as good as he was at eight." At that point, he laughed. That smile looked even worse than crying.
"Am I not ridiculous?"
His voice reached everyone's ears.
The training ground was deathly silent. Even the sound of the wind seemed jarring.
"Grandmaster..." Ning Rongrong called softly.
Yu Xiaogang did not respond.
He turned and slowly walked toward his room. The Sky Screen's light stretched his shadow long behind him, like an old sheet of paper that could be scattered by the wind at any moment.
He had truly been dealt a devastating blow.
Though the Yu Xiaogang in the Sky Screen World was not him, he felt it as if it were.
"Keep watching." Without