Everyone Has Innate Full Soul Power?!

Feng Qingyang's gaze sharpened, and doubt immediately took root.

"What do you mean?"

Xue Mingqing curled his lips, leaning against the side of the wooden tub. Although his aura remained incredibly withered, the depths of his eyes were brimming with a youthful, irrepressible cunning.

"While I was tempering my body just now, I discovered that for every bit of impurity expelled from my system, my soul power would refine by a fraction."

"And these impurities aren't innate; they are accumulated over time through contact with the world and the consumption of worldly flavors, building up bit by bit."

"If that's the case, then suppose someone were raised in the lap of luxury, rarely exposed to impurities, or perhaps never had any enter their body at all—wouldn't they naturally possess innate full soul power?"

After listening, Feng Qingyang arched a brow. He crossed his arms and said indifferently, "A decent theory, but then what?"

Not hearing the shock and astonishment he had expected, Xue Mingqing froze and turned his head. "Shouldn't you be shocked? This is a way to mass-produce innate full soul power, you know!"

Picking at his ear, Feng Qingyang looked down at Xue Mingqing with a gaze of utter contempt. "Spare me. I'm nothing but a soul now; what use is knowing this to me?"

For a brief moment, silence reigned as Xue Mingqing looked at the soul-only Feng Qingyang, his mouth twitching.

That was true. No matter how good or useful a theory might be, what meaning did it hold for a soul?

He couldn't even use it.

The moment he realized he had been full of confidence, trying to show off his theory to Feng Qingyang, only for the latter to remain unmoved and leave him looking like a clown, Xue Mingqing couldn't help but feel his face darken.

Watching Xue Mingqing's face turn as black as the bottom of a pot, the corners of Feng Qingyang's mouth lifted in a nearly imperceptible arc.

Although Xue Mingqing's theory was astonishing—bordering on the greatest theory the continent had ever seen—how could the wily, old-as-a-fox Feng Qingyang fail to see through his little scheme?

Trying to show off in front of him?

Not a chance!

Feng Qingyang insisted on maintaining a flat expression, and seeing Xue Mingqing's ugly complexion only made him feel refreshed.

Rubbing his face, Xue Mingqing composed himself and looked at Feng Qingyang. He opened his mouth to say something, but upon seeing the state of Feng Qingyang's body, his pupils contracted.

It was a semi-transparent, almost illusory soul form!

Seeing this, how could he sit still? He immediately stood up from the tub, ignoring his lack of clothing, and grabbed Feng Qingyang's illusory hands with both of his own. "Old Feng, your body?"

Suddenly grabbed by Xue Mingqing, Feng Qingyang's entire body shuddered. In his life, he had always loathed displays of raw emotion; he found them sickeningly mushy. Yet, his body's instinctive reaction told him that the worry Xue Mingqing was showing him now was entirely genuine.

His mouth twitched. Feng Qingyang suppressed the urge to slap Xue Mingqing's hands away, took a deep breath, and tried his best to keep his tone level. "Let go first..."

"Ah, ah, right..."

Coughing awkwardly, Xue Mingqing released his grip and took half a step back, though the concern in his eyes for Feng Qingyang did not diminish in the slightest. After all, ever since he transmigrated, Feng Qingyang had been dormant within his soul. In a sense, Feng Qingyang was the very proof that reminded Xue Mingqing he was a transmigrator, and that everything from his past life in China wasn't just a dream.

Furthermore, when the Evil Soul Master was about to kill him, it was Feng Qingyang who had awakened to save him. That was a debt of life. Now, Feng Qingyang had spared no effort in consuming his own soul power to temper his physique—that was a debt of rebirth. One might ask, how could Xue Mingqing not be worried or care about Feng Qingyang's body?

Staring intensely at Feng Qingyang, Xue Mingqing nervously fiddled with his fingers, feeling as if he were back in his past life waiting for his college entrance exam results, terrified that Feng Qingyang might say something dire.

Giving Xue Mingqing a deep look, Feng Qingyang closed his eyes. His tone was as gentle as he could manage. "Rest assured, I won't have any issues. Our souls are linked; even if my soul were to perish, I could rely on your spiritual power to slowly regenerate."

"So, I cannot die."

Hearing this, Xue Mingqing finally let out a long, deep breath. Hearing that Feng Qingyang would be fine made him happier than if he had obtained a hundred-thousand-year soul bone. That was good; that was enough. And as for Feng Qingyang?

He watched Xue Mingqing's display of sincerity for sincerity.

The corners of his mouth couldn't help but twitch a few times.

Feng Qingyang had experienced nothing but betrayal and pain his entire life; he never believed in sincerity, nor did he believe in bonds.

But—

The genuine feelings radiating from Xue Mingqing forced him to acknowledge the existence of sincerity.

Closing his eyes, he suppressed the nausea that made his skin crawl and raised a hand.

"Fine, fine... for the sake of your sincerity, this old man will grant you one more opportunity."

As he spoke, Feng Qingyang's entire soul body grew even more translucent, and a soul fragment was peeled away from it.

Before Xue Mingqing could react, that soul fragment was driven into his body, leaving a mysterious rune upon his back.

Feeling the appearance of that mysterious rune, Xue Mingqing instinctively frowned.

He couldn't sense what the soul fragment was for at all—not even a little bit—as if it were completely useless.

He raised his eyes, instinctively wanting to ask Feng Qingyang what it was.

Only to see Feng Qingyang's soul body gradually fading, dissipating with the wind!

Seeing this, Xue Mingqing's pupils constricted!

He instinctively reached out, wanting to grab hold of Feng Qingyang's soul body.

However, the very next second after he reached out, a weary voice echoed in his mind.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, this old man isn't dead... just tired and going to sleep..."

"..."

That night, in Xue Mingqing's small courtyard.

After cleaning up the mess left behind by the body tempering, Xue Mingqing changed into a simple green robe.

He sat alone on a stone bench in the courtyard, resting his chin in his hand as he pondered.

He let the bitter northern wind and the delicate, falling snow drift onto his shoulders.

Raising one hand, a flash of snowy light erupted in his palm.

His martial soul, Snowflake, emerged.

However, looking at the martial soul in his hand, Xue Mingqing raised an eyebrow.

Because—

His martial soul was no longer just a simple Snowflake; it was pure white, with an octagonal snowflake as its core.

Surrounding it, swirling in a circle, was a persistent, cyan-green breeze.

It had clearly gained a hint of the wind's sharpness and dominance!

Examining the vastly different martial soul in his hand, Xue Mingqing's gaze deepened.

"Now... I suppose this martial soul of mine should be called Snow Wind, right?"

As for the change in his martial soul, he had already asked Feng Qingyang.

According to Feng Qingyang, using a hurricane to temper the body would indeed leave behind a trace of the hurricane's origin within him.

It was very weak.

It definitely wouldn't form a twin martial soul.

But—

If it intertwined and fused with his original martial soul, it could evolve the martial soul just a little, granting the original form an attribute of wind.

This was the reason Xue Mingqing's martial soul had evolved into Snow Wind.

Gazing at the Snow Wind in his hand, Xue Mingqing shifted his thoughts.

Driven by his level ten soul power, the Snow Wind changed nimbly in his hand.

Snow Sword, Snow Bow, Snow Spear, and even Snow Shield.

Each piece of melee equipment transformed freely in his hands, constantly shifting its form.

The speed of these changes was even faster than when his martial soul was just a simple Snowflake.

Although this was a good thing for Xue Mingqing, it—

It was not the focus of his attention right now.

To be fair, the self-created soul skill, Snow Transforms Into All Things, was certainly useful.

However, it previously had a fatal flaw: transforming the form of the martial soul consumed a massive amount of Xue Mingqing's soul power, essentially draining 25% of his total reserves with every single shift.

But now?

Watching the Snow Wind martial soul morph back and forth in his hands while his soul power consumption remained negligible—almost to the point of being non-existent—Xue Mingqing couldn't help but let the corners of his mouth curl upward.

It seems... the pain wasn't suffered in vain.

With a soft chuckle, Xue Mingqing stood up with his hands behind his back and turned toward his room.

He had to begin his nightly cultivation.

After all, he still had to go search for a soul ring tomorrow...