Tang San went to the blacksmith's shop, but Huang Fei couldn't. Not because he didn't want to go, and not because it was cold, but because he had something else to do.
Study his Martial Soul.
Ever since he'd seen Tang San and Xiao Wu's little scene in the back hills, where they'd sworn to be siblings, Huang Fei had been thinking about one question: apart from the skills granted by the system, could Blue Silver Grass be used in other ways?
In the original story, Tang San's uses for Blue Silver Grass were extremely limited—entangle, bind, tie up, and constrict. Later, after awakening the Blue Silver Emperor, he gained a domain and higher-level control skills, but when all was said and done, it was still the same old bag of tricks. It wasn't that Tang San lacked creativity; Yu Xiaogang had simply led his Blue Silver Grass down the wrong path from the start, steering it toward poison-based control.
The problem with the poison-based control path was that its core was "poison," not "grass." Every Soul Skill combination and battle strategy revolved around poison. Blue Silver Grass itself was merely a carrier for the toxins.
The Life Flow path was different. Its core was "grass" itself—its vitality, resilience, and ability to grow.
Huang Fei set down his bowl of porridge and left the cafeteria, looking for an empty corner of the academy. There was a row of abandoned storehouses beside the training field. Nobody usually came there, and behind them was a small patch of open ground, enclosed by walls that kept the wind out.
He stood in the middle of the clearing and raised his right hand.
Blue Silver Grass emerged from his palm. Its stalks were deep green, its leaves broad and sturdy, their surfaces glimmering faintly. After absorbing the eight-hundred-and-sixty-year Vine of Life Soul Ring, his Blue Silver Grass had become something entirely different from ordinary Blue Silver Grass. But it still looked like Blue Silver Grass, and nobody would notice anything unusual about it.
Huang Fei slowly infused Blue Silver Grass with Soul Power—not to activate a Soul Skill, but with a gentle, steady flow.
Blue Silver Grass began to grow.
It spread from his palm, slowly climbing up his arm, winding around his shoulder, then stretching down along his back. It moved slowly, but steadily, as if exploring unfamiliar terrain.
Huang Fei closed his eyes and tried to sense the information Blue Silver Grass picked up as it extended outward.
As the vines wound around his shoulder, he felt a cold breeze brush past his neck.
As the vines climbed up his back, he felt the fabric of his clothes rubbing against their stalks.
As the vines trailed down from his back, he sensed the air growing colder closer to the ground.
The information was faint and hazy, like trying to touch something through a thick veil. But it was there. Blue Silver Grass was helping him "sense" things; he just didn't yet know how to interpret what it sensed.
Huang Fei drew back the Blue Silver Grass and opened his eyes.
He was on the right track. He just needed a lot of practice.
He raised his right hand and infused Blue Silver Grass with Soul Power again, letting it grow slowly along his arm and spread outward. This time, he tried to control it and send it farther—from his arm to his shoulder, from his shoulder to the wall, until the tip of the vine could touch the storehouse wall.
The instant the tip of the vine touched the wall, Huang Fei felt it.
Rough. Cold. The texture of the bricks and stones, like a series of furrows, traveled through the stalk of Blue Silver Grass and into his awareness. It was just like feeling it with his own fingers.
Huang Fei's eyes lit up.
This was one of the hidden abilities of Life Flow Blue Silver Grass—Perception Extension. Tang San's Blue Silver Grass could do something similar, but the range of his perception was limited by the strength of his Soul Power and the age of his Soul Rings. Huang Fei's Blue Silver Grass, with its eight-hundred-and-sixty-year foundation, had perception that was at least several times more sensitive and far-reaching than Tang San's.
The area he could sense right now was still small, only about one zhang around him. But as he practiced more, that range would grow—five zhang, ten zhang, dozens of zhang. By then, he would have a living perception network that no one could evade or fool.
Anyone who entered its range would be sensed by him.
That was something Tang San's poison-based control Blue Silver Grass could never do.
Huang Fei practiced a few more times, extending the Blue Silver Grass a little farther each time. On his last try, the vine stretched more than three zhang from his palm, hanging in the air like a green rope.
He drew back the Blue Silver Grass and breathed out a puff of white mist.
His hand was a little sore. It wasn't because he lacked Soul Power; he simply wasn't used to such precise control yet. Making Blue Silver Grass grow slowly was far more tiring than releasing a Soul Skill. It required intense concentration.
That was enough. He'd stop here for today.
Huang Fei slipped his hand back into his sleeve and ambled back.
Tang San didn't return until the afternoon.
He pushed open the door to Dorm Seven with a cloth bag in his hand, carrying the smell of iron and cold wind. Wang Sheng was lying on his stomach, reading a guide to Soul Beasts. When he saw Tang San come in, he casually asked, "Boss, what were you up to all morning?"
"The blacksmith's shop. I went to pick something up." Tang San didn't elaborate. He walked over to his bed, sat down, and set the cloth bag beside his pillow.
Huang Fei poked his head out from under the quilt, glanced at him, then ducked back under.
Tang San took a bundle of adjusted arrows out of the cloth bag and inspected them one by one. The sharpness of the arrowheads, the straightness of the shafts, the balance of the fletching—he'd been an expert in Hidden Weapons back in the Tang Sect, and could tell at a glance whether they were up to par. The blacksmith had done finer work this time, which meant his skills were improving—or perhaps he'd realized that this child wasn't just playing around, but genuinely knew his craft.
After checking all the arrows, Tang San put them into Twenty-Four Moonlit Bridges. He didn't test-fire them right away; Dorm Seven wasn't suitable. The space was too small, the walls too thin, and more than a dozen people were crammed together. If he missed and hit someone, it would be a problem.
He'd wait until night, when everyone was asleep, then go outside and test them.
Tang San's training continued as usual. In the afternoon, he sparred with Xiao Wu on the training field for a while. After returning, he washed his face and began meditating. Dinner was napa cabbage stewed with glass noodles, served with multigrain steamed buns. Huang Fei ate two buns, Tang San ate three, and Xiao Wu ate two and a half. Her appetite had been growing lately. Tang San figured it was probably normal for someone her age and didn't think much of it.
After night fell, Dorm Seven gradually grew quiet.
The oil lamp was blown out, and most of the fire in the stove died down. Only a few pieces of charcoal still glowed a dull red among the ashes. Snores rose and fell from the beds. Wang Sheng's was still the main melody, low and resonant, like a background tune that would never end.
Tang San waited until everyone was fast asleep and their breathing had all turned steady before quietly sitting up in bed. He didn't put on his shoes, stepping barefoot onto the icy floor as he soundlessly made his way to the door.
He slid the door bolt back as slowly as he could, making almost no sound. Once outside, he closed the door just as carefully.
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