Theory or Performance

After Huang Fei finished saying the words "take you as my master," the smile on the corner of his mouth had not yet fully faded when he suddenly seemed to recall something interesting, his eyes brightening slightly.

He leaned against the locust tree, tilting his head to look at Yu Xiaogang, the playful tone in his voice growing thicker.

"Master, since you are the number one in theory on the continent, you must surely apply your theories to yourself to make yourself very strong, right?"

He paused, looking Yu Xiaogang up and down as if calculating something.

"You look to be in your forties now; may I ask what your Soul Power Level has reached?"

Huang Fei's voice was not loud, but every word was crystal clear.

"Don't tell me that someone who is number one in theory has a very low Soul Power Level themselves? That would be too hard to justify, wouldn't it?"

When Tang San heard this, his eyes lit up as well.

That's right, why hadn't he thought of that?

Since a person claimed to be the number one in theory on the continent, their theories should certainly be applied to themselves first.

If his theories were correct and effective, his strength should be very high.

Tang San wore an expectant expression and, following Huang Fei's lead, asked, "That's right, Master, since your theories are so impressive, your Soul Power Level must be very high, right? May I ask what level you are at now?"

The gazes of the two children fell squarely on Yu Xiaogang, waiting for his answer.

The atmosphere changed in an instant.

The proud expression on Yu Xiaogang's face was like being doused with a basin of cold water; starting from the corners of his eyes, it collapsed bit by bit.

His lips trembled slightly, his eyes began to dart away, and the two hands he had originally held behind his back clenched involuntarily, his knuckles turning white.

This question was like a knife, precisely stabbing into his most painful spot.

Level twenty-nine.

His soul power had remained stuck at level twenty-nine forever; it was impossible for him to break through to level thirty in this lifetime.

His martial soul's malignant mutation was the pain of his life, his hidden illness, and a shameful label he could not shake off no matter where he went.

He had spent over twenty years searching for a solution, scouring all the classified archives of the Martial Soul Hall, conducting countless experiments, and filling over a dozen notebooks, but it was useless.

All his efforts were like pushing against a wall that would never fall.

Now, two children had asked the question he least wanted to answer in the most innocent tone.

Yu Xiaogang's throat bobbed, his mouth opening and then closing again.

He wanted to say something to brush it off, but the two children just stared straight at him, waiting for an answer.

"I..."

His voice was dry, as if squeezed from the depths of his throat.

"Level twenty-nine."

After saying these two words, he immediately added, as if by reflex: "But my martial soul suffered a malignant mutation! I was originally a disciple of the Blue Lightning Overlord Dragon Clan; my family heritage is the dragon-type martial soul! The dragon race, a supreme existence! If not for the malignant mutation—"

His voice grew hurried, as if he were desperately explaining something, or perhaps trying to convince himself.

"If not for the malignant mutation, I would never have only this level of cultivation! This is force majeure; no one can change it!"

He spoke faster and more excitedly, as if he wanted to pour out all the grievances and unwillingness he had harbored for over twenty years.

Huang Fei listened quietly until the end, the corners of his mouth slowly curling up.

It was a smile that said, "Just as I thought."

"Master, I thought you were very impressive, but it turns out you only have this much cultivation."

He deliberately emphasized the words "only have," his tone carrying a feigned, innocent confusion.

"You said so much, isn't it just to cover up your flaws?"

He took half a step forward, tilting his head to look at Yu Xiaogang.

"Since you are number one in theory, even if your own martial soul suffered a malignant mutation, you should have been able to solve this problem through your theories. But—"

He drew out the sound, his smile playful.

"You haven't solved it."

"So, your title of 'Master of Theory' doesn't seem as great as you bragged."

Tang San stood to the side, and after hearing Huang Fei's words, the expression on his face shifted from expectation to disappointment.

Level twenty-nine.

He had seen the classification of soul masters in the book his father gave him—level twenty-nine was merely a two-ring Soul Grand Master, belonging to a very low-tier existence in the entire soul master hierarchy.

A two-ring Soul Grand Master came to tell him, "I can help you become a Title Douluo"?

Tang San suddenly felt that today's conversation had a strange flavor from the very beginning.

If someone who claimed to be the number one in theory on the continent only had a cultivation of level twenty-nine and couldn't solve his own problems after twenty years, how could he guarantee he could solve someone else's?

Besides, Huang Fei was right.

If he were truly number one in theory, even if his martial soul had mutated malignantly, he should have been able to find a way to resolve it.

If it cannot be found, it only proves that this theory is not as useful as he claims.

Tang San's gaze toward Yu Xiaogang shifted.

From the initial shock, to the intermediate admiration, and now—

Disappointment.

He even felt that his expressions of surprise just moments ago were somewhat superfluous.

Yu Xiaogang's complexion changed completely.

It was not guilt, but fury.

His face flushed a deep red, the veins on his forehead bulged one by one, and his nostrils flared; he looked like an enraged bull.

"What do you know!"

His voice suddenly rose, startling the sparrows on the tree branches into flight.

"Martial soul mutation is innate! It is fundamentally impossible to change! Do you think I haven't tried? I have researched for over twenty years, pored over every secret archive in Martial Soul Hall, conducted hundreds of experiments, and written dozens of notebooks—"

He took a step forward as he spoke, his voice growing louder and louder.

"I have tried every method! It is useless! It has never been useful!"

His eyes were bloodshot, as if they were about to spew fire.

"And—" He took a deep breath, struggling to stabilize his emotions, though his voice still trembled, "My Soul Power Level and the malignant mutation of my martial soul cannot represent my personal wisdom! I know you don't believe me, but I tell you, even if I am only level twenty-nine, my theories are correct! Teaching the two of you with Blue Silver Grass martial souls is more than enough!"

He looked at Huang Fei, his chest heaving violently, and said word by word: "You cannot deny my decades of theoretical research just because of my Soul Power Level and my malignant martial soul mutation. That is unfair."

After he finished roaring, the clearing fell silent.

There was only the sound of the wind blowing through the locust tree leaves.

Tang San fell silent.

He lowered his head, his brows slightly furrowed, replaying what Yu Xiaogang had said in his mind.

Logically speaking, what Yu Xiaogang said... seemed to make sense.

Just because a person cannot jump high does not mean they do not understand the theory of high jumping.

Just because a person cannot run fast does not mean they do not understand the mechanics of running.

A teacher who is not a world champion themselves can still train world champions.

Soul Power Level and theoretical research are indeed two different things.

Yu Xiaogang's Soul Power Level is only twenty-nine because of his malignant martial soul mutation; this is an objective, unchangeable fact.

But this does not mean that his understanding of martial souls is wrong.