The Reason the Original Blue Silver Emperor Wasn't Strong

Tang San went to the blacksmith shop, but he could not go. It was not because he did not want to, nor was it because of the cold, but because he had something else to do.

Research his own martial soul.

Ever since he saw the scene of Tang San and Xiao Wu becoming siblings at the back mountain, Huang Fei had been pondering a question: besides the skills provided by the system, could the Blue Silver Grass be developed for other uses?

In the original work, Tang San's use of the Blue Silver Grass was very singular—entangling, binding, tying, and strangling. Later, when he awakened the Blue Silver Emperor and gained domains and higher-level control skills, it was, at the end of the day, still the same old thing. It was not that Tang San lacked creativity, but that his Blue Silver Grass had been led astray by Yu Xiaogang from the very beginning, following a poison-control path.

The problem with the poison-control path was that its core was "poison," not "grass." All soul skill allocations and combat strategies revolved around toxins, with the Blue Silver Grass itself merely serving as a carrier for the poison.

The Life Flow path was different. The core of Life Flow was the "grass" itself—its vitality, its resilience, and its growth capability.

Huang Fei set down his porridge bowl, walked out of the cafeteria, and found a deserted corner in the academy. Beside the playground was a row of abandoned warehouses that no one usually visited. Behind the warehouses was a small open space, shielded by walls on all sides, blocking out the wind.

He stood in the center of the clearing and raised his right hand.

The Blue Silver Grass emerged from his palm. Its deep emerald stalks and thick leaves shimmered with a faint luster. After absorbing the 860-year-old Vine of Life soul ring, his Blue Silver Grass was no longer on the same level as ordinary Blue Silver Grass. Yet, it still looked like ordinary grass; no one would notice anything unusual about it.

Huang Fei slowly channeled his soul power into the Blue Silver Grass—not to trigger a soul skill, but to provide a gentle, continuous infusion.

The Blue Silver Grass began to grow.

It spread from his palm, climbed slowly along his arm, wound around his shoulder, and extended down his back. The speed was not fast, but it was steady, as if exploring unknown terrain.

Huang Fei closed his eyes, attempting to sense the information the Blue Silver Grass touched as it extended.

When the vines wound around his shoulder, he felt the cold wind brush against his neck.

When the vines climbed up his back, he felt the texture of his clothing rubbing against the stalks.

When the vines hung down from his back, he felt the change in air temperature—the air closer to the ground was colder.

This information was faint and blurry, as if he were touching something through thick gauze. But it existed. The Blue Silver Grass was helping him "perceive," he just didn't know how to interpret these perceptions yet.

Huang Fei retracted the Blue Silver Grass and opened his eyes.

The direction was correct. It just required a great deal of practice.

He raised his right hand and once again channeled soul power into the Blue Silver Grass, letting it grow and spread slowly along his arm. This time, he tried to control it to extend further—from his arm to his shoulder, from his shoulder to the wall, letting the tips of the vines touch the warehouse wall.

The moment the vine tips touched the wall, Huang Fei felt it.

Rough. Cold. The texture of the bricks and stones felt like deep grooves, transmitted through the stalks of the Blue Silver Grass into his consciousness, just as if he were touching them with his own fingers.

Huang Fei's eyes lit up.

This was one of the hidden abilities of the Life Flow Blue Silver Grass—Perception Extension. Tang San's Blue Silver Grass could achieve something similar, but his perception range was limited by his soul power intensity and soul ring age. As for Huang Fei's Blue Silver Grass, with its 860-year foundation, the sensitivity and range of his perception were at least several times greater than Tang San's.

The range he could perceive now was still small, only about one zhang around his body. But as his practice deepened, this range would grow larger. Five zhang, ten zhang, dozens of zhang—by then, he would possess an inescapable, impossible-to-disguise living sensory network.

Anyone who entered this range would be perceived by him.

This was something Tang San's poison-control Blue Silver Grass could never achieve.

Huang Fei practiced a few more times, each time letting the Blue Silver Grass extend a little further. By the last time, the vines had extended more than three zhang from his palm, hanging in mid-air like a emerald-green rope.

He retracted the Blue Silver Grass and exhaled a puff of white mist.

His hand felt a bit sore. It wasn't because his soul power was insufficient, but because he wasn't used to such delicate operations. Controlling the slow growth of the Blue Silver Grass was much more tiring than directly releasing a soul skill; it required highly focused mental energy.

Enough. That's it for today.

Huang Fei tucked his hands into his sleeves and walked back slowly.

Tang San did not return until the afternoon.

When he pushed the door open to enter Dormitory Seven, he was carrying a cloth bag, his body carrying the scent of iron and the chill of the wind. Wang Sheng was lying on his bed reading the soul beast encyclopedia; seeing Tang San enter, he asked casually, "Boss, what were you doing all morning?"

"Blacksmith shop, picking something up." Tang San didn't elaborate, walked to his bed, sat down, and placed the cloth bag at the head of the bed.

Huang Fei poked his head out from under his quilt to look at him, then shrank back in.

Tang San took a bundle of corrected arrows from the bag and checked them one by one. The sharpness of the tips, the straightness of the shafts, the balance of the fletching—he had been an expert in hidden weapons back in the Tang Sect; he could judge these things accurately at a glance. The blacksmith's work this time was more meticulous than the last, suggesting his craftsmanship was indeed improving, or perhaps he realized this child wasn't just playing around and truly knew his stuff.

After checking all the arrows, Tang San stored them away in the Twenty-Four Moonlit Bridges. He didn't test-fire them immediately because Dormitory Seven wasn't suitable—the space was too small, the walls were too thin, and with over a dozen people crowded together, it would be troublesome if he missed and hurt someone.

Wait until night, wait until everyone was asleep, then go outside to test them.

Tang San's cultivation continued as usual. He sparred with Xiao Wu on the playground in the afternoon, washed his face upon returning, and began to meditate. Dinner was cabbage stewed with vermicelli, served with coarse-grain 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 thought this was a normal phenomenon of growing up and didn't think much of it.

After nightfall, Dormitory Seven gradually quieted down.

The oil lamp was blown out, and the stove fire had mostly died down, leaving only a few coals glowing with a dark red light in the ashes. Snoring rose and fell from various beds; Wang Sheng's was still the main melody, low and resonant, like background music that would never stop.

Tang San waited until everyone was fast asleep, confirming that their breathing had become rhythmic, before sitting up gently from his bed. He didn't put on his shoes, stepping barefoot onto the cold floor, and walked silently to the door.

He pulled the door latch with extremely slow movements, making almost no sound. After stepping out, he closed the door with the same careful motions.