Collision

East Sea City's streets were more crowded than she had imagined.

Yun Zhiyu walked along the stone-paved road. Shops lined both sides, the hum of soul devices mingling with vendors' cries into a clamor. She lowered her head and sank her spiritual power into the system panel to check her current status.

[Host: Yun Zhiyu]

[Age: 10]

[Martial Soul: Xuanyuan Sword (God-tier Tool Martial Soul)]

[Soul Power: Level 31 (Three-Ring Soul Elder, Density: Extremely High)]

[Soul Spirit Simulation Status: Thunder Marsh Yinglong (Ten Thousand Years) → Thousand-Year Lightning Python; Northern Nether Black Tortoise (One Hundred Thousand Years) → Mysterious Water Turtle (Thousand Years)]

[Torch Dragon Bloodline: 35% Unsealed]

[Torch Dragon Bloodline Soul Skills:]

[First Soul Skill · Torch Dragon Breath: Nether Shadow: Exhales a faint breath of the Torch Dragon, carrying netherworld chill that slows enemies, disrupts soul power circulation, and gently controls the battlefield.]

[Second Soul Skill · Dragon Scale Ward: Dark Veil: Dark-gold dragon scales emerge around the body, forming a defensive barrier while slightly distorting light to conceal one's aura.]

[Third Soul Skill · Dusk Dragon Flash: Instant Step: Torch Dragon power enhances speed, allowing short-range spatial flashes. Graceful and silent, it is used for evasion and surprise attacks.]

[Spiritual Power: 510 points (Spirit Sea Realm)]

[Blacksmith Rank: Level 5 (Peak Spirit Forging, Beginner Fusion Forging)]

Yun Zhiyu's gaze lingered on "Torch Dragon Bloodline: 35% Unsealed" for a moment. It meant the power sleeping within her was gradually awakening. Nether Shadow, Dark Veil, Instant Step—the three soul skills were all related to the Torch Dragon's trait of "opening its eyes brings day, closing them brings night." Battlefield control, defense, evasion—there was no direct offensive ability, yet they perfectly matched the Torch Dragon's essence of controlling time and space.

Still far from enough, she murmured inwardly. When it is fully unsealed, perhaps I can touch time itself...

She did not notice the road ahead.

Bang—

Her forehead struck a solid chest. Yun Zhiyu staggered backward, her spiritual power abruptly pulling free from the system panel. Instinctively, she activated Dusk Dragon Flash: Instant Step. Her figure swayed slightly, then steadied itself an inch before she fell, like a fallen leaf caught by the wind.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

The voice opposite her was hurried and sincere, carrying the clear tone unique to a young boy. Yun Zhiyu looked up and saw a boy of eight or nine repeatedly bowing to her. His black hair gleamed faintly gold beneath the sunlight, and his skin was a healthy wheat color. Yet his eyes were an unusual dark blue, as though the sea and sky had both been gathered within them, clear as a pool of water.

Tang Wulin.

Her heart jolted. The protagonist of the original story, son of the God King Tang San and inheritor of the Golden Dragon King Bloodline, was standing before her now, apologizing endlessly like a child who had made a mistake.

"I wasn't watching where I was going either," she said with a smile. "I should be the one apologizing."

Tang Wulin froze for a moment before straightening up. A hint of embarrassment filled his dark-blue eyes. He wore a faded gray work uniform, its cuffs frayed at the edges. His cloth shoes were stained with mud, and he had clearly rushed here from some construction site or forging room. Yet even so, he stood straight as a pine, carrying a steadiness that did not suit his age.

"No, no," he waved his hands, his voice slightly stammering. "I was in a hurry and didn't see what was ahead... Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Yun Zhiyu smiled and shook her head, reaching out to brush the dust from his shoulder—the metal filings left behind by forging. "Are you a blacksmith?"

Tang Wulin's eyes lit up, as though someone had flipped a switch. "Yes, I know a little!"

After saying that, he lowered his head again in embarrassment, the tips of his ears reddening slightly. "But... I can only barely manage Thousandfold Forging. I'm still far from good enough..."

"Thousandfold Forging at nine years old," Yun Zhiyu said sincerely. "That's already amazing. When my master was nine, he was still smashing iron blocks and playing in the mud."

Tang Wulin raised his head, surprise and delight in his eyes. "Really?"

"Really." Yun Zhiyu nodded. "My name is Yun Zhiyu. I'm also going to register at East Sea Academy. Want to go together?"

"O-okay!" Tang Wulin nodded hurriedly, then hesitated again. "But... my martial soul is Bluesilver Grass. My innate soul power was only level three, and I'm only level thirteen now... The people at the academy might..."

He could not continue. A trace of gloom flashed through his dark-blue eyes.

Yun Zhiyu knew what he meant. Bluesilver Grass was publicly acknowledged as a useless martial soul. Compared to top-tier martial souls like the Titan Giant Ape and the Sky-Pillaring Spear, it was like a firefly before the bright moon. In the original story, Tang Wulin had endured countless taunts and scorn because of this martial soul. Only after the Golden Dragon King Bloodline gradually awakened did he break through with sheer strength and carve out his own path.

"What's wrong with Bluesilver Grass?" she asked softly. Her voice was not loud, yet it cut clearly through the clamor of the street.

Tang Wulin froze.

"Twenty thousand years ago," Yun Zhiyu said as she walked slowly onward, her ink-black hair drifting gently in East Sea City's sea breeze.

"The leader of the first generation of Shrek Seven Monsters, Tang San, also had Bluesilver Grass as his martial soul."

She turned her head, her black eyes—violet beneath the concealment of contact lenses—meeting Tang Wulin's directly. "He became a god. Not an ordinary god, but the Sea God, the Asura God, an enforcer of the Divine Realm. His Bluesilver Grass evolved into the Bluesilver Emperor on his path to godhood, looking down upon all living things."

Tang Wulin stopped in his tracks, a flash of shock passing through his dark-blue eyes.

"So," Yun Zhiyu continued walking, her voice carried away by the wind, "martial souls are neither strong nor weak. It only depends on whether they suit you. Bluesilver Grass is a useless martial soul? That is simply the ignorance of the world. Its resilience, vitality, and adaptability are things most martial souls do not possess. It can bind, it can control, it can grow in any environment—this is not useless. This is..."

She turned around and looked at the boy standing there blankly, a faint curve rising at the corner of her lips. "Infinite potential."

Tang Wulin stared at her. Sunlight spilled through the gaps between the buildings, coating her outline in pale gold. Her ink-black hair fluttered gently in the wind, and beneath her oversized gray cloak, slender wrist bones showed. A ring on her finger flowed with profound light. She looked like an ordinary girl, even half a head shorter than him, yet within those black eyes lay a warm certainty that nearly made his heart miss a beat.

"...Sister Yun," he changed the way he addressed her without thinking, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly. "Do you really think so?"

"I don't think so." Yun Zhiyu shook her head. "I know it. In your hands, Bluesilver Grass will evolve, grow, and become something everyone looks up to. Because you..."

She paused and did not continue, because she could not say, "Because you are the son of a God King." She could not say, "Because the Golden Dragon King Bloodline sleeps within you." She could not say, "Because you are the protagonist of this world."

"Because you refuse to admit defeat," she finally said, her voice gentle yet resolute. "That is enough."

Tang Wulin's eyes grew faintly hot. He thought of his days and nights spent forging, of the gazes that held either pity or ridicule, of the weak, nearly invisible glow of Bluesilver Grass every time his soul power was tested. He had thought he was already used to it, already numb to it. Yet now, this girl he had only just met had pulled him out of some cold, lonely corner with just a few words.

"...Thank you," he said quietly, quickening his pace to catch up with her. "Sister Yun."

East Sea Academy's gates were plainer than she had imagined.

There was none of Shrek Academy's ancient solemnity, nor Sea God's Pavilion's mysterious majesty. There was only an ordinary stone archway, carved with the six words "East Sea Soul Master Academy." The writing was neat but lacked spirit. Many new students and parents had gathered inside and outside the gates, some excited and some nervous, making noise like a pot of boiling water.

Yun Zhiyu and Tang Wulin entered the gates side by side, only to be stopped in the middle of the square.

"Well, well, isn't this our 'useless Bluesilver Grass'?" A shrill voice came from the side.

Tang Wulin's body stiffened. Yun Zhiyu turned and saw three boys around ten years old approaching them. The tall boy at the lead wore an exquisite silk school uniform. A silver badge—some family's emblem—was pinned to his chest. His gaze fell upon Tang Wulin, filled with undisguised contempt.

"Bluesilver Grass." The tall boy sneered. "Innate soul power of level three, only level thirteen now. Trash like you deserves to enter East Sea Academy? Go back and grow flowers. Isn't Bluesilver Grass best suited for farming?"

His companions burst into laughter. One of them deliberately rammed Tang Wulin's shoulder, making him stagger half a step.

"I heard you're studying forging at the East Sea City Blacksmiths Association?" the tall boy continued mockingly. "Thousandfold Forging? You probably only succeeded once by luck after swinging thousands of hammer blows. A real genius, unlike a useless martial soul like yours, would never—"

He did not get to finish.

Yun Zhiyu stepped forward and stood in front of Tang Wulin. She was only as tall as the tall boy's chest. Her oversized gray cloak snapped in the sea breeze, making her look like a little girl who did not know her place. But when she raised her eyes, the tall boy instinctively stepped back half a pace. Something ancient and majestic flickered through those black eyes, like a sleeping beast opening its eyes.

"Apologize!" she said. Her voice was not loud, but it cleanly cut off all laughter.

The tall boy froze for a moment, then flew into a rage out of embarrassment. "Who are you? How dare you meddle in my affairs? Do you know who I am? I am—"

"Who you are is not important." Yun Zhiyu cut him off and took half a step forward. "What matters is that you are insulting my..."

She paused, glanced at Tang Wulin, and a faint smile curved her lips. "Friend."

Tang Wulin trembled all over. Something warm surged in his dark-blue eyes. Friend—this word was too unfamiliar, too precious to him. At the East Sea City Blacksmiths Association, he was "the one with Bluesilver Grass." During the academy preparatory tests, he was "the one with the useless martial soul." Never had anyone said, before so many people, that he was a friend.

"Friend?" The tall boy acted as though he had heard a joke. "A useless Bluesilver Grass like him is worthy of—"

He did not get to finish.

Yun Zhiyu released a thread of soul power. Only a thread. The pressure of a Three-Ring Soul Elder was suppressed to its lowest point, yet it carried the unique majesty of the Torch Dragon Bloodline, the majesty of one who controlled time and space. The tall boy's breathing stalled, as if some invisible force had seized his throat. His legs went weak against his will, his knees bending as he nearly dropped to the ground.

"I'll say it one more time," Yun Zhiyu said, her voice carrying icy gentleness. "Apologize."

The tall boy's face turned deathly pale, fine beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. Within that pressure, he felt an aura that made his soul tremble—this was not ordinary soul power, but something older and more majestic, like a fragment of divinity left behind in the mortal world.

"S-sorry..." he forced out the words, his voice shaking.

Yun Zhiyu withdrew her power, and the pressure receded like the tide. The tall boy staggered back, supported by his companions as they disappeared into the crowd in disgrace. Whispers rose all around them, and looks of surprise and awe fell upon Yun Zhiyu. She did not care in the slightest and simply turned to Tang Wulin.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her voice returning to its previous gentleness.

Tang Wulin stared at her blankly. Sunlight spilled through the gaps in the clouds, coating her outline in pale gold. Her ink-black hair fluttered gently in the wind, and her black eyes reflected his figure, holding a warm certainty that made his heart race.

"Sister Yun..." he said, his voice hoarse. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you help me?" Tang Wulin's voice trembled almost imperceptibly. "We only just met... You don't know who I am, don't know my martial soul, don't know that I..."

"I know." Yun Zhiyu interrupted him, her voice gentle yet firm. "I know you are Tang Wulin. I know you achieved Thousandfold Forging at nine, that your martial soul is Bluesilver Grass, that your innate soul power was level three, and that you are now level thirteen. I know you work at the East Sea City Blacksmiths Association. I know people mock you. I know you..."

She paused and reached out to straighten his rumpled collar, her movements practiced, as though she were caring for a younger brother. "I know you deserve to be treated well."

Tang Wulin's eyes finally reddened. He lowered his head, unwilling to let Yun Zhiyu see him lose control. Something warm swelled in his dark-blue eyes, nearly overflowing.

"...Thank you," he said softly, his voice broken with the edge of tears. "Sister Yun, thank you."

Yun Zhiyu smiled and rubbed his black hair. "Come on. Let's register. If we're late, the teachers will scold us."

She turned and walked toward the teaching building, her cloak drifting in the sea breeze like a fish swimming into the deep ocean. Tang Wulin hurried after her. In his blue-gold eyes, that gray figure was reflected like some light not yet born, but already beginning to sprout.

In the corridor outside the registration office, Yun Zhiyu stopped.

Her spiritual power silently spread outward and touched the auras around a corner—two figures, one familiar and one unfamiliar. The familiar one carried the unique coolness of the Silver Dragon Bloodline, while the unfamiliar one carried a somewhat proud and unruly confidence.

Gu Yue, she murmured inwardly. And... Xie Xie?

The plot of the original story was unfolding. The primary personality of the Silver Dragon King, a swift-attack genius with twin martial souls, and Xu Xiaoyan, who had yet to appear—the inheritor of the Star Staff Legacy. She was about to meet them, become acquainted with them, fight beside them, and ultimately change the endings that had kept her awake at night.

"Sister Yun?" Tang Wulin called from behind her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Yun Zhiyu withdrew her spiritual power, a faint curve rising at the corner of her lips. "I was only thinking that the days ahead will be interesting."

She continued forward, her ink-black hair drifting gently in East Sea City's sea breeze. The Tang Sect Bracelet on her wrist glimmered faintly, Zhen Hua's Star Ring flowed with profound light on her finger, and Na'er's Silver Dragon Hairpin rested against her skin, sending waves of warmth through her.

Ahead lay a new story, new challenges, and new bonds.