Shui Bing'er watched him looking so utterly confident, and couldn't help but feel a little of that confidence rub off on her.
Although she still thought the goal seemed a little distant, when she looked into Ning Xiaochun's sparkling eyes, she couldn't help but feel... perhaps he really could do it?
"There's one more goal." Ning Xiaochun suddenly changed the subject, his voice turning a little mischievous.
"What goal?" Shui Bing'er asked instinctively.
Ning Xiaochun turned his head and fixed his gaze on Shui Bing'er. His big eyes held the undisguised heat and anticipation of a young boy. "To grow up fast!"
Shui Bing'er froze for a moment. Then she met his eyes, which seemed almost to speak, and instantly understood what he meant.
Her cheeks flushed bright red in an instant, and even her neck turned pink. She jerked her head away, not daring to look at Ning Xiaochun's eyes, which seemed capable of seeing right through her. Her heart pounded like a drum.
Grow up fast... and what then?
She didn't dare think any further.
Seeing how utterly flustered she was, Ning Xiaochun chuckled to himself. He stopped teasing her and simply said, "By the time I grow up, Bing'er-jie, you'll be an adult too. Then..."
"Shut up!" Shui Bing'er finally couldn't take it anymore and cut him off in embarrassment and annoyance. Her voice trembled slightly. "Don't say another word!"
Seeing that she was truly upset, Ning Xiaochun quickly raised his hands in surrender. "All right, all right, I won't say anything! I didn't say a thing!"
But his eyes, curved into crescents, gave away how pleased he was with himself.
Shui Bing'er was both embarrassed and angry, but there was nothing she could do about him. She could only glare at him before turning around and pretending to watch the sunset, which had nearly disappeared beyond the window. But her ears, red enough to drip blood, betrayed her inner turmoil.
Six years from now... she would be eighteen. According to their agreement, she would have to marry this little rascal, five years her junior—cowardly and wicked, yet always able to make her heart flutter when she least expected it.
Six years...
For some reason, a faint trace of... anticipation rose in her heart.
The moment the thought surfaced, Shui Bing'er startled herself. She quickly pushed it down, but that inexplicable flutter refused to subside for a long time.
At last, the sun sank completely below the horizon, leaving only a faint orange glow along the edge of the sky.
In the research institute, the two stood quietly without another word. Yet the air seemed to carry an unspoken understanding... and a faint sweetness.
Time slipped by, and the years flew past.
Six years passed like sand slipping through one's fingers, gone in the blink of an eye.
Over those six years, the balance of power across Douluo Continent underwent many subtle yet profound changes.
The most striking changes came from Spirit Hall.
Under Pope Bibi Dong's iron-fisted rule, Spirit Hall's influence swelled and spread like a snowball, growing at an unprecedented pace.
More and more Soul Masters chose to join Spirit Hall, while its influence seeped into and took control of more and more kingdoms and duchies. The banners of Spirit Hall had been planted in almost every corner of the continent.
The two great empires—the Heaven Dou Empire and the Star Luo Empire—both felt the threat posed by Spirit Hall keenly.
They tried to unite with other forces to curb Spirit Hall's expansion, but with little success. Spirit Hall had already grown like a towering tree, its roots deep and firmly entrenched, impossible to shake.
Perhaps the only force on the continent capable of standing against Spirit Hall was the Seven Great Sects.
However, the Clear Sky Sect, once the greatest sect under heaven, had announced its withdrawal from the world years ago, sealing its gates and refusing to concern itself with worldly affairs.
The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan had also become increasingly low-key for certain reasons, rarely appearing in the world beyond its own borders.
The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, the greatest Support System sect under heaven, had been especially... low-key over these six years.
So low-key, in fact, that it seemed to have vanished from the continent's view.
Aside from its normal business operations and necessary social engagements, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect had made almost no moves to attract attention.
It had expanded no territory and clashed with no other forces. Even its disciples ventured outside the sect far less often.
This unusual reticence puzzled many who were paying attention. But most people thought that the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect had always excelled at business and support rather than combat, so keeping a low profile was only natural.
Only a very few knew that behind the sect's quiet, closed gates, a transformation capable of changing the balance of power on the continent was quietly taking shape.
And at the heart of that transformation was the black-haired boy who had once been only six years old. Now, he was twelve.
Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, rear mountain.
The once-quiet woodland had now been replaced by a sprawling complex of magnificent buildings.
A tall wall isolated the area from the outside world. Complex Soul Guidance Arrays etched into it shimmered with faint light, radiating waves of energy that made one's heart tremble. Beside the main entrance stood a massive stone stele, its bold, powerful lettering bearing several large characters:
"Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect Soul Guidance Device Research Institute"
In the lower-right corner of the stele, a smaller line read: "Inscribed by Sect Master Ning Xiaochun."
That's right. The little brat who had still been wearing split-crotch pants six years ago and shouting "steady growth" all day had now officially been appointed heir to the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect by Ning Fengzhi. He was fully responsible for Soul Tool research and the construction of its armed forces.
Though he had yet to officially succeed to the position of sect master, within the little domain of the Soul Guidance Device Research Institute, he was an absolute ruler.
Inside the institute, everything was bustling with activity.
Beneath a huge workshop roof, hundreds of carefully selected craftsmen and Soul Masters worked in orderly fashion.
Some bent over enormous workbenches, using precision carving knives to etch Soul Guidance Arrays finer than a strand of hair into metal plates. Their expressions were focused, their hands as steady as stone.
Others operated Soul Power furnaces, smelting various rare metals into the required alloys. The flames cast a ruddy glow across their dark faces.
Still others assembled and debugged all manner of oddly shaped Soul Tool components. The clang of their hammers and the hum of Soul Power in motion mingled together, playing a unique industrial symphony.
The air was thick with the charred smell of heated metal, the lubricating scent of machine oil, and the strange odors produced by mixtures of Soul Power materials.
To a first-time visitor, the smell might have been a little pungent. But to everyone here, it was the most familiar and reassuring scent of all—the smell of progress, the smell of power.
Compared with six years ago, the institute's production efficiency and technical level had changed beyond recognition.
An assembly-line production model had been established, at least in its early stages. Standardized parts had greatly improved assembly efficiency. One batch after another of trained junior Soul Tool technicians were growing into the backbone of this emerging industry.
Yet in the very heart of all this activity, inside a master bedroom decorated in striking contrast to the bustling workshops outside, the scene was entirely different.
A black-haired boy lounged on a broad recliner covered with soft white tiger hide.
He looked about twelve or thirteen, but he had grown much taller. With sword-straight brows, bright eyes, and a straight nose, he wore a faint smile at the corner of his mouth and exuded a lazy, self-assured air.
Six years had passed, and the little brat of those days had grown into a graceful young man.
He had his eyes closed contentedly, a straw in his mouth. The straw was connected to a glass of chilled fruit juice on the low table beside him.
And beneath his head lay a pair of full, shapely legs, straight and white as jade.
Their owner was a stunning young woman who looked about seventeen or eighteen.
She had long, water-blue hair that fell to her waist, loosely draped behind her, with a few strands hanging over her fair forehead.
Her icy-blue eyes were clear and limpid, as if they held snow that had never melted in ten thousand years. But now they brimmed with warmth as she gazed tenderly at the boy resting in her lap.
Her features were even more exquisite than they had been six years ago. The girlish innocence had faded, replaced by a mature woman's grace and charm.
She wore a well-tailored, ice-blue dress that traced her graceful figure. Seated there, she was like a snow lotus blooming atop a mountain peak: cool and noble, yet touched by a tenderness that bloomed only for the person before her.
It was Shui Bing'er, all grown up.
In three days, she would turn eighteen.
Before you continue