Teacher Gangzi's Latest Theory

After finishing breakfast, they completed their morning training.

At 10:00 AM, Teacher Yu Xiaogang began his lecture. He stood at the podium, holding a piece of chalk, and wrote a line on the blackboard: "Martial Soul and Destiny."

After writing, he turned around, swept his gaze over the students, and cleared his throat: "Students, you must understand one truth. There are no useless Spirit Masters, only useless Martial Souls."

The students looked at one another, then began to whisper among themselves.

Tang San leaned over to murmur a few words to Xiao Wu, Oscar picked at his ear, and Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing discussed the meaning of the statement.

Everyone remembered that Yu Xiaogang's most classic theory from the past was exactly the opposite of this.

Tang San could not help but raise his hand and stand up, his tone filled with confusion: "Teacher, you have always said that there are no useless Martial Souls, only useless Spirit Masters. Did you say it backward today?"

Yu Xiaogang sighed, set down the chalk, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked down from the podium.

"Yes, that is indeed what I used to say."

Yu Xiaogang walked to the center of the classroom, stopped, and looked at the distant mountains outside the window, his voice sounding much flatter: "But not long ago, at fifty years of age, my spirit power finally broke through to level 30."

"Pfft..." The students in the class quickly covered their mouths.

"At fifty, one knows the mandate of heaven."

Ignoring the laughter, Yu Xiaogang continued, "At first, I believed that determination was the most important thing, but in the end, I helplessly realized that it is destiny that is formidable. From the moment a Martial Soul is awakened, a person's life is already decided."

These words were heavy and realistic, instantly suppressing all noise in the room and leaving the classroom in dead silence.

The once high-spirited Master, who had been obsessed with defying the heavens, had ultimately bowed his head to fate.

Yu Xiaogang looked around at everyone, his tone returning to a serious register: "Next, everyone will stand up in turn to introduce yourselves. State your Martial Soul, attributes, and spirit power level so I can gauge your foundations."

The group stopped their playful behavior and stood up one by one to introduce themselves.

"Tang San, level 29 Control-system Spirit Master, Martial Soul: Blue Silver Grass."

"Xiao Wu, level 29 Agility and Power-attack dual-system Spirit Master, Martial Soul: Soft Bone Charm Rabbit."

"Dai Mubai, level 37 Power-attack system Spirit Master, Martial Soul: White Tiger."

"Oscar, level 29 Food-system Spirit Master, Martial Soul: Sausage."

"Ma Hongjun, level 28 Power-attack system Spirit Master, Martial Soul: Evil Fire Phoenix."

"Zhu Zhuqing, level 27 Agility-attack system Spirit Master, Martial Soul: Nether Spirit Cat."

"Ning Rongrong, level 26 Support-system Spirit Master, Martial Soul: Seven Treasures Glazed Pagoda."

The last to stand was Qin Chuan; his expression was calm, and his voice was clear and steady.

"Qin Chuan, level 29 Control and Support dual-system Spirit Master, Martial Soul: Illusion Bell."

Once everyone had finished, the seven of them—ranging from level 26 to level 37—were all geniuses of the same age, their talents far exceeding those of ordinary Spirit Masters.

A trace of satisfaction flashed in the depths of Yu Xiaogang's eyes, but he did not reveal it. Instead, he deliberately withheld praise and kept his expression flat, intending to temper them to prevent arrogance from taking root.

"Your foundations are decent; you can be considered a group of geniuses. But geniuses are the most prone to self-conceit and premature death. Let me speak about your future paths."

His gaze swept over them, critiquing them one by one with blunt, sharp words.

"Tang San, the Blue Silver Grass is a trash Martial Soul with an extremely low ceiling. At best, you can only control the field in the future. If that fails, going home to open a pasture and grow grass would be the most suitable path."

Tang San's expression stiffened, slightly embarrassed, but he could only lower his head in silence.

"Oscar, a Food-system Martial Soul with zero combat capability. You can only provide support. Once you leave the academy, setting up a stall to sell grilled sausages will be your best destination."

Oscar's mouth twitched, and he scratched his head sheepishly, his face full of helplessness.

Finally, Yu Xiaogang's gaze landed on Qin Chuan, his tone carrying a hint of regret and dismissal.

"Qin Chuan, a mutated Illusion Bell Martial Soul. No melee capability, no burst output, only capable of mental interference. It is useless in actual combat. No matter how high your spirit power is, it is merely a niche support skill. After graduation, you might as well go to the city and become a sleep therapist to live a stable life."

The sharp critique left everyone present feeling awkward, and they all forced dry laughs, though no one took it to heart.

Everyone knew in their hearts that they were the elite geniuses selected by Shrek, and the Master's words were merely intended to temper them and grind away their pride.

Only Qin Chuan understood, smiling faintly without a word.

A sleep therapist?

At this moment, Yu Xiaogang did not yet know that the niche Martial Soul he deemed the most useless would eventually overturn the destiny of the entire Douluo world.

By the afternoon, it was time for the practical combat training class.

Zhao Wuji stood in the center of the field with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Next is combat technique training. The rules are simple: we will start with one-on-one guidance. You will come up one by one to spar with me. I will provide targeted advice based on your individual offense and defense."

"Qin Chuan, Ning Rongrong, your Martial Souls are very special. There is no point in you fighting me alone; we will discuss yours during the team battle later."

The two nodded and retreated to the edge of the field.

The one-on-one guidance began.

Tang San was the first to step up.

He stood opposite Zhao Wuji and assumed his starting stance. Blue Silver Grass emerged from his palms—three strands, wrapping around his arms, ready to strike.

Zhao Wuji did not release his martial soul; he simply stood there with his arms hanging at his sides.

"Come."

Tang San moved. Blue Silver Grass lashed out at Zhao Wuji from three directions, moving with such speed that it whistled through the air. At the same time, he charged forward, his left hand flicking out a hidden weapon.

Zhao Wuji didn't even glance at the projectile; he simply swiped his right hand, the force of his palm swatting it away. Simultaneously, his left hand caught the end of a vine of Blue Silver Grass and whipped it back toward Tang San.

Tang San was jerked off balance, stumbling a step.

"The advantage of Blue Silver Grass lies in range and binding. When you're pulled into close quarters, you must learn to cut it off in time. Don't be reluctant." Zhao Wuji let go and stepped back.

Next was Dai Mubai.

Dai Mubai released his martial soul immediately, his White Tiger Protection Barrier igniting as a pale golden light enveloped him. He clenched his fists and leaned forward, resembling a tiger coiled and ready to pounce.

"Good." Zhao Wuji wore a look of satisfaction. "Come on."

Dai Mubai threw a punch. Zhao Wuji dodged to the side, simultaneously slapping Dai Mubai on the back. Dai Mubai stumbled forward two steps, ripples distorting his protection barrier, but it did not shatter.

"Your attacks are too straightforward. How many times have I told you? The White Tiger's explosive power is your strength, but you cannot rely solely on linear charges. Learn to change direction."

Dai Mubai scoffed, but he obediently adjusted his stance.

The third to step up was Zhu Zhuqing.

Zhu Zhuqing had removed her long-sleeved training jacket, revealing a black short-sleeved bodysuit. The muscles in her arms were firm and toned, her waist was narrow, and her long, straight legs were encased in black leggings, each step she took possessing a feline grace.

She stood opposite Zhao Wuji, her eyes narrowed, pupils slitted like a cat's.

Without any warning, Zhu Zhuqing vanished.

A second later, she appeared to Zhao Wuji's left, her right hand's fingers pressed together like a blade, slashing toward his ribs.

Nether Thrust.

Zhao Wuji didn't even blink; he blocked with his left arm, taking the strike head-on. When Zhu Zhuqing's fingers hit his forearm, it felt as if she had struck an iron plate, and her fingertips went numb.

"Your speed is fine, but your force is lacking. You are too light, and your explosive power cannot keep up with your speed," Zhao Wuji said. "Practice your base strength more when you go back; don't just focus on speed."

Zhu Zhuqing withdrew her hand, nodded, and stepped back.

Ma Hongjun and Xiao Wu took their turns. Ma Hongjun was sent stumbling by a single slap from Zhao Wuji, who scolded him for "lacking heat." Xiao Wu performed quite well; the agility of her Soft Bone Rabbit combined with the explosive power of her Waist Bow forced Zhao Wuji to get slightly serious. But only slightly.

Oscar was skipped entirely. As a food-type martial soul user, there was no need for individual combat instruction.

"Alright. The one-on-one instruction ends here. Next, team battle."

Zhao Wuji walked to the center of the arena and rolled his neck, his joints popping with a crisp sound.

"The rules: all of you, come at me together. I won't use soul skills. You may use whatever you wish."

As he spoke, his gaze swept over the eight students before resting on Qin Chuan.

"Qin Chuan, you—"

Zhao Wuji slapped his own forehead, looking troubled.

"Qin Chuan, your martial soul is too unique; you won't participate in the team battle."

Qin Chuan spread his hands. "Understood, Teacher Zhao."