Suppression and Calling

Her dark brown contact lenses shattered under the surging soul power, revealing the vertical slits in her purple eyes. The slits opened fully, and deep within her pupils, the phantom of the Torch Dragon intertwined with the phantom of the Black Tortoise's serpent, forming a totem that made even the Golden Dragon King Bloodline tremble.

A flicker of confusion passed through Tang Wulin's golden eyes.

He felt that aura—not the coldness of the Silver Dragon King, nor the brutality of the Bone Dragon King, but a more ancient majesty, as though it had been born when heaven and earth first opened. It was the Torch Dragon, the master of time and space whose opened eyes made day and whose closed eyes made night, the ancestor of dragons whom even the Golden Dragon King had to look up to.

"...Who are you?" His voice carried two overlapping echoes—one Tang Wulin's clear voice, the other the Golden Dragon King's hoarseness.

"Yun Zhiyu." Her voice was soft, yet carried irresistible force.

"Your friend, Wulin. Calm down. Don't let it control you."

She stepped forward. The Torch Dragon phantom in her purple eyes grew increasingly solid, and netherworld chill wrapped around the Golden Dragon Claw. It was not suppression, but guidance—a nearly maternal gentleness that slowly calmed the violent golden radiance.

Tang Wulin's body trembled.

The two wills within him clashed—the Golden Dragon King craved battle, craved tearing things apart, craved devouring the Torch Dragon Bloodline before him. Yet Tang Wulin remembered that voice, those eyes, and the girl who had shielded him from ridicule on the streets of East Sea City and said, "Bluesilver Grass has infinite possibilities."

"Yun... Sister..." His voice regained some of its clarity.

"Yes!" Yun Zhiyu took another step forward and pressed her palm against the side of his wrist beneath the Golden Dragon Claw.

"It's me. Take a deep breath. Feel my soul power. Let it enter your meridians and soothe the Golden Dragon King. Don't fight it—coexist with it. I told you before, Bluesilver Grass is a resilient martial soul. It can entangle, and it can embrace—"

Her voice carried a certain rhythm, like an ancient dragon language and also like a mother's lullaby: "Let your Bluesilver Grass wrap around the Golden Dragon King. Don't seal it—embrace it. Let it become your strength, not your master."

Dark blue and gold flickered alternately in Tang Wulin's eyes.

He felt that warm current flow from Yun Zhiyu's palm, traveling through his meridians and into every part of his body. Guided by it, his Bluesilver Grass martial soul slowly awakened. Fine blue light surfaced beneath his skin, like gentle vines winding around the rampaging golden radiance within him.

The Golden Dragon King's roar gradually quieted.

It had not been suppressed, but soothed—persuaded by some higher existence to temporarily return to slumber. Tang Wulin's Golden Dragon Claw slowly retracted. The golden scales faded, restoring his human hand, while his pupils changed from pure gold back to blue-gold, filled with the bewilderment and exhaustion of surviving a disaster.

"...Thank you!" he said hoarsely, then collapsed forward.

Yun Zhiyu caught him and gently laid him on the ground.

Her face was equally pale. Unsealing the Torch Dragon Bloodline had consumed a great deal of soul power. After her contact lenses shattered, the vertical slits in her purple eyes slowly closed, yet they could not conceal the ancient authority that seemed to emanate from her very bones.

"Referee," she said, her voice steady despite her exhaustion.

"Class One concedes. The joint team wins this round."

The referee froze for a moment, then blew the whistle. "The joint team wins!"

Yet no one cheered.

Everyone's gaze fell upon Yun Zhiyu—upon her exposed purple eyes, and upon the lingering Torch Dragon aura around her that even made Gu Yue look sideways.

Wei Xiaofeng and Wu Nianbing rushed over. One supported the wavering Wang Jinxi, while the other helped Zhang Yangzi, whose soul power was depleted. Yet their eyes likewise followed that silver-haired figure.

Gu Yue stood where she was, an unprecedented gravity in her clear eyes.

She had felt it—the majesty surging from Yun Zhiyu's body, strong enough to make even the Silver Dragon King Bloodline tremble. It was not the Golden Dragon King's power and savagery, but a more ancient totem, as though born when heaven and earth first opened, one that commanded time, space, life, and death.

Torch Dragon... she murmured inwardly, her thoughts fractured by disbelief.

The Silver Dragon King's inherited memories contained records of the Torch Dragon. The ancestor of dragons, whose opened eyes made day, whose closed eyes made night, whose breath brought winter, and whose exhale brought summer.

The Dragon God was merely a descendant of the Torch Dragon, while the Golden Dragon King and Silver Dragon King were merely fragments of the Dragon God. Yet this ten-year-old girl before her carried... the bloodline of the ancestor?

Gu Yue's fingertips trembled slightly. She thought of Na'er—her secondary personality, that avatar sent into the human world who had developed feelings for humans. Na'er was at Shrek Academy, growing up under Yali's protection alongside Yun Ming and his wife's daughters. And the person standing before her now was precisely the one Na'er called "Sister."

"You..." she began, her voice carrying an urgency that did not suit her usual indifference.

Yun Zhiyu turned and met her gaze.

Purple eyes met silver eyes. The bloodlines of the Torch Dragon and Silver Dragon produced an invisible resonance in the air. Yun Zhiyu understood the shock, confusion, and the vigilance of the soul beast sovereign stirred within Gu Yue's eyes.

But she did not wish to expose herself.

Her contact lenses had shattered, but her hair remained ink-black—the effect of hair dye, which would not fade anytime soon. She took a deep breath and completely withdrew the Torch Dragon Bloodline's aura. The vertical slits in her purple eyes shut fully, restoring their dark brown disguise.

Although her contact lenses had shattered, she formed a thin barrier over the surface of her eyes with spiritual power, simulating a dark brown sheen.

"Gu Yue," she said, her voice returning to its earlier gentleness, "your Elemental Tide is very strong. Next time, I'll experience it for myself."

She turned and walked down from the arena, her steps steady as though nothing had happened.

Gu Yue watched her retreating figure, the gravity in her silver eyes undiminished. She knew Yun Zhiyu was concealing something, avoiding something, protecting something. But she also knew that now was not the time to press for answers—the Golden Dragon King Bloodline's rampage, the exposure of the Torch Dragon Bloodline, and her own incompletely awakened Silver Dragon King memories had made this battle far more complicated than the Class Advancement Tournament.

Yun Zhiyu! She repeated the name inwardly, as though engraving it deep into her soul. Who exactly are you?

In the infirmary, Zhang Yangzi and Wang Jinxi lay in neighboring beds.

The backlash from the Bone Dragon King had severely damaged Wang Jinxi's meridians. Fine cracks covered his grayish-white skin like shattered porcelain. Zhang Yangzi was somewhat better off. The impact produced when the Dark Illusion Demon Eagle martial soul fused with the Bone Dragon King had left his spiritual sea unstable, but it had not harmed his foundation.

The healing soul power of a healing-type Soul Master flowed through the ward, warm and gentle like a spring stream. She was one of the few healing-type Soul Masters at East Sea Academy.

"Auntie," Wang Jinxi said hoarsely, "the class monitor, she..."

"She's fine," Yali replied, her voice carrying gentle exhaustion.

"She's next door, taking care of that Bluesilver Grass child."

In the ward next door, Tang Wulin lay on the bed with his blue-gold eyes half-open. Yun Zhiyu sat beside him, a thread of purple-gold soul power gathered at her fingertips as it slowly seeped into his meridians, guiding the Golden Dragon King's lingering violent aura into the embrace of Bluesilver Grass.

"Sister Yun..." Tang Wulin's voice was hoarse with guilt. "I... I hurt Zhang Yangzi and Wang Jinxi..."

"You didn't hurt them." Yun Zhiyu shook her head. "It was tempering. They used a Martial Soul Fusion Skill and forced out your limit. That is the price of battle, not your fault."

She paused, softening her voice. "But you need to learn to control the Golden Dragon King's power. Don't suppress it—coexist with it. Like Bluesilver Grass winding around a great tree, not strangling it, but borrowing its strength to grow."

Tang Wulin looked at her. Her eyes appeared dark brown beneath the spiritual barrier, yet purple glimmers occasionally flashed through them. Suddenly, he felt that this girl carried too many secrets, too many stories, and too much warmth he had yet to touch but that somehow made him feel at peace.

"...I will," he said. "Sister Yun, I'll learn."

Yun Zhiyu smiled and reached out to ruffle his hair. The gesture was identical to how she treated Yun Zhishu, yet it made Tang Wulin's face redden slightly.

"Rest," she said, rising to her feet. "The Class Advancement Tournament isn't over yet. Once you recover, we'll fight again."

She turned toward the door. Her ink-black hair gleamed softly under the soul-guided lights. The Tang Sect Bracelet around her wrist gave off a faint glow, while Zhen Hua's Star Ring flowed with deep radiance on her finger.

In the corridor, Gu Yue leaned against the wall. Her silver hair fell to her waist, her silver eyes clear, as though she had been waiting for Yun Zhiyu.

"Yun Zhiyu," she said, her tone indifferent yet stubborn, "your martial soul..."

"An ordinary sword," Yun Zhiyu interrupted, the corner of her lips curving faintly. "Didn't you already know that?"

Gu Yue paused, then realized Yun Zhiyu was avoiding the matter. She did not press further, merely watched Yun Zhiyu walk past her. Ink-black hair brushed over her fingertips, carrying a lingering warmth belonging to the Torch Dragon that made her Silver Dragon King Bloodline tremble slightly.

...I'll find out, she murmured inwardly. One day.

Outside the window, the sky after the typhoon was as blue and clear as if freshly washed.

Yun Zhiyu stood at the end of the corridor, looking toward the distant sea and sensing the Torch Dragon Bloodline within her, which had yet to fully settle.

She knew that after today, Gu Yue would investigate her identity, contact Na'er, and uncover the truth behind the name "Yun Zhiyu" through every possible channel.

But she was not afraid.

She remembered what her father and the elders of the Sea God's Pavilion had told her before she left: "Some secrets can be hidden for a while, but not forever. When the day comes that you can no longer hide them, Shrek will stand behind you."

She thought of Long Yeyue's jade pendant, Zhen Hua's Star Ring, Na'er's Silver Dragon Hairpin, and Mo Lan's necklace. She thought of Shrek's Sea God's Pavilion, Yun Ming's black robes, Yali's holy light, and Yun Zhishu's smiling face.

One step at a time, she murmured inwardly. Steady and sure.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and Wu Changkong's white-clad figure appeared at the edge of her vision. His gaze fell upon Yun Zhiyu, his blue eyes filled with complicated emotions—gratitude, confusion, and a father's tenderness that had been stirred awake.

"Nianbing's chain..." he said hoarsely.

"I know." Yun Zhiyu turned and met his gaze. "Auntie Long Bing's soul is sleeping within the chain. Teacher Wu, I will become a god soon. When that happens..."

She paused. Beneath the spiritual barrier, the vertical slits in her purple eyes opened slightly, revealing a thread of ancient light. "I will revive her. That is my promise to you, and to myself."

Wu Changkong froze.

He looked at this ten-year-old girl before him, at those eyes bearing the vicissitudes of countless ages. Suddenly, he felt that the child who had handed the Ice God's Chain to Zhuo Shi nine years ago, the little girl practicing horse stance beside the forging room, and the young girl who had used the Torch Dragon Bloodline to suppress the Golden Dragon King today—were the same person, yet not entirely the same.

"...Thank you," he finally said, his voice hoarse from weeping. "I'll wait. I'll live until that day."

Yun Zhiyu smiled, gave him a salute, and walked toward the other end of the corridor. Her ink-black hair drifted gently beneath the soul-guided lights, like a fish swimming into the deep sea.

Ahead lay new stories, new challenges, and new bonds.

As well as the Class Advancement Tournament, which had not yet ended.