Are you serious?

In the main study of the Zenin Clan estate, wisps of sandalwood incense curled around the ancient books on the shelves. Naobito Zenin sat upright at his desk, holding a translucent jade thumb ring between his fingers, unconsciously rubbing its fine engravings.

The servant delivering the message stood bowed below the steps, reporting how Zhiyan had visited the West Wing Courtyard and spoken with Toji behind closed doors for an hour. Finally, he lowered his voice and added, "Before leaving, Young Master Zhiyan instructed us that he had asked Toji to serve as his teacher. From now on, he will make time each day to study in the West Wing Courtyard."

For a moment after those words fell, the air in the study seemed to freeze. Naobito's fingers paused around the jade ring before slowly loosening. A trace of weary expectation crossed his eyes, mixed with an indescribable helplessness. He raised a hand to rub between his brows, his knuckles whitening slightly under the pressure, and his lips curved into a faint, almost self-mocking smile.

I should have seen this coming.

From the moment he had handed that stack of dossiers to Zhiyan, he had known his son was no stickler for convention. Inheriting the Ten Shadows Technique had given him a perspective beyond that of ordinary people, and beneath his composure, so far beyond his years, lay unfettered ambition and decisiveness.

He had given Zhiyan the right to choose partly because he trusted his judgment, and partly because he wanted to see what impressive surprise the boy might produce. After all, as the Zenin Clan's designated heir, even if his choice of teacher defied convention, it should still have been someone respected in Jujutsu Society, someone presentable.

Yet despite all his calculations, he had still underestimated Zhiyan's nerve.

Of all the people he could have chosen, he had picked Toji Zenin.

The outcast stripped from the clan's rolls, who treated the rules of jujutsu as nonexistent. The rebel who could slaughter a Grade 1 Cursed Spirit with raw physical strength alone and cared for nothing but money. Whenever anyone in the Zenin Clan mentioned Toji, it was with either contempt or apprehension. Only Zhiyan had somehow seen value in that heap of disgrace that everyone else overlooked.

Naobito slowly leaned back in his chair, his loose robes spreading behind him, his posture slackening with a sense of helplessness. Looking at the neatly pruned pines and cypresses in the courtyard outside, he spoke with undisguised weariness, either to himself or to the servant below the steps. "I knew that boy wouldn't play by the rules... I just never thought he'd dare choose Toji."

Just as he finished speaking, the study door gently opened, and Zhiyan appeared in the doorway. He still wore a plain kimono, his black hair neatly tied back. His expression was as calm as if he had completed the most ordinary errand, without the slightest anxiety or swagger over choosing a "problematic figure" as his teacher.

"Father." He bowed in greeting, his tone even.

Naobito raised his eyes to him, his complicated gaze lingering on his face for a moment. The boy's features still bore the softness of youth, but his dark eyes held an unwavering resolve. After a brief silence, Naobito finally let out a long sigh and spoke weakly, his voice steeped in resignation. "You understand the consequences of choosing Toji as your teacher, don't you?"

There was no angry rebuke, no stern interrogation, only the weariness of someone whose suspicions had been confirmed, along with a barely perceptible indulgence. He had expected Zhiyan to make an unconventional choice, but not one so bold that even he scarcely knew how to object. After all, he had personally placed that choice in his son's hands.

At those words, Zhiyan slowly straightened and met his father's gaze. His expression remained calm, as though discussing some trivial matter unrelated to himself. He nodded slightly and answered without hesitation, clearly and firmly. "I do."

Two simple words, casually spoken, yet carrying an unquestionable resolve. It was as though the clan's potential criticism, rejection by Jujutsu Society, and even unforeseen risks were all beneath his concern.

Seeing him like this, Naobito felt even more helpless, yet a faint sense of reassurance stirred within him. He waved a hand, his tone yielding somewhat. "Very well. You chose this path yourself. Whatever comes your way, you'll have to bear it."

He paused, then added, "With Toji's temperament, almost no one can keep him in line. If you're mistreated, or if you change your mind, you can come to me anytime."

Zhiyan did not answer. He merely bowed once more, then turned and left the study. Sunlight fell across his back, casting his slender figure into a straight, elongated silhouette, like a pine growing into the wind and rain, resilient and upright.

Naobito watched the direction in which he had left, remaining silent for a long time. Sandalwood incense still curled through the study, but his heart was filled with conflicting emotions. He knew that Zhiyan had not merely chosen an unusual teacher; he had chosen an unconventional path full of unknowns. And that path might one day overturn the rules of the entire Zenin Clan, perhaps even all of Jujutsu Society.

He picked up the dossiers on his desk, running his fingertips over the names of those "leading figures of Jujutsu Society," and gently shook his head. So be it. Since this was his son's own choice, all he could do as a father was quietly watch from behind and occasionally clear away unnecessary obstacles.

The morning mist had yet to fully disperse, and the Cursed Spirit Detention Facility in the hills behind the Zenin Clan estate already exuded a chilling air. Its heavy stone doors were shut tight. Intricate suppression sigils carved into the lintel gleamed dark gold in the faint light. The air was thick with the fetid stench and malice unique to cursed spirits, enough to make anyone instinctively tense even through several layers of barriers.

When Zhiyan arrived on time, the first pale light had just appeared on the horizon. He wore dark, fitted clothes that allowed easy movement, his black hair tied behind his head. He kept his cursed energy carefully restrained, neither flaunting it nor leaving himself unprepared for a sudden emergency. Standing in the open space to the left of the stone doors, he gazed calmly at them and waited patiently.

According to Toji's instructions a few days earlier, today was the first day of formal training, and the location was this Cursed Spirit Detention Facility, a place practically forbidden within the clan. Zhiyan knew that Toji's teaching would never consist of ordinary explanations of cursed techniques. He would most likely jump straight into combat, but Zhiyan had not expected him to choose somewhere so dangerous.

Time ticked away. The morning mist gradually dispersed, and sunlight pierced the clouds to spill across the ground, stretching his shadow ever longer. The stone doors remained motionless. Their appointed time had long since passed, yet Toji was still nowhere to be seen.

Zhiyan's brows drew together almost imperceptibly. He was not accustomed to waiting for others, especially somewhere filled with unknown dangers. Wasting time was a miscalculation in itself. But remembering Toji's careless disposition, he forced down his impatience and merely raised his wrist to check his watch. Almost an hour had passed since their agreed time.

Just as he was considering going to the West Wing Courtyard to find him, dragging footsteps sounded behind him, accompanied by a languid yawn that broke the surrounding silence.

"Yaaawn-"

Zhiyan spun around to see Toji Zenin ambling toward him. He still wore loose black casual clothes, his collar hanging open and his hair sticking out in a disheveled mess. His eyes were visibly bloodshot, and his face was heavy with sleep. Even his steps were slightly unsteady, as though he had just crawled out of a lover's bed. He clearly had not taken this "combat training" seriously at all.

"Yo, you're here early." Toji yawned again and rubbed his eyes, his words muffled, without a trace of guilt over being an hour late. "Stayed out playing too late last night. Nearly overslept."

Watching him, Zhiyan's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. He had imagined countless reasons for Toji's lateness, but he had never expected something as flippant as "stayed out playing too late." The little anticipation he had built up over the past few days was instantly doused by the sight before him, leaving him utterly speechless.

He stood where he was, watching Toji calmly without saying a word, but the disdain and resignation in his gaze were almost tangible. This? This is the teacher I specifically chose over all those leading figures of Jujutsu Society? An hour late on the first day of training, and still half asleep? This is ridiculous.

Growing uncomfortable under his stare, Toji scratched his head and finally shook off some of his fatigue, though his tone remained flippant. "Why are you looking at me like that? I'm a little late. What's the big deal?" As he spoke, he walked over to the stone doors and patted the cold surface. "All right, brat, stop looking so sour and open the doors. I found you something 'good' today. Guaranteed to leave an impression."

Zhiyan still said nothing. He simply stepped forward, gathered a thread of cursed energy at his fingertips, and pressed them against a groove in the doors' sigils. He could feel the barrier fluctuating and faintly hear the cursed spirits roaring on the other side, but thinking of the unreliable teacher beside him only deepened his exasperation.

Fine. I chose him myself. No matter how ridiculous he is, I have to live with it.

But I'll be keeping track of this lateness. As Zhiyan silently thought this, a barely noticeable glint of slyness flashed in his eyes.

Cursed energy flowed through the grooves of the stone doors' sigils. The dark gold markings instantly lit up, spreading like veins coming to life. Amid the heavy grinding of machinery, the thick stone doors slowly opened inward. An even stronger stench of rot rushed out, mixed with the angry roars and struggles of cursed spirits, making his eardrums tighten.

Zhiyan instinctively held his breath, circulating his cursed energy slightly as he prepared to summon his shikigami at any moment. Beyond the doors lay a deep, dark passage. Cursed tool lamps embedded in the walls shed a cold light, barely illuminating the way ahead. Shadows twisted and swayed across the walls, as though countless invisible eyes were watching from the darkness.

Toji finally seemed more awake. Some of the weariness left his face, replaced by eager excitement. He stepped into the passage first, his stride light, completely ignoring the eerie atmosphere around him. He even whistled. "Don't be so tense. The cursed spirits here are all suppressed by barriers. They won't be causing trouble for now."

Zhiyan followed closely, his wary gaze sweeping over the iron bars on either side of the passage. All kinds of cursed spirits were imprisoned within. Some huddled in corners, whimpering, while others hurled themselves wildly against the bars, their claws scraping out piercing screeches, only to be thrown back by invisible barriers with agonized howls.

"Keep going. The room at the end," Toji said without looking back, a hint of mystery in his voice. "I specifically spoke to the guards and had them save you a tough one."

Zhiyan asked no questions and merely quickened his pace. The deeper they went, the denser the cursed spirits' presence became, their shrieks growing ever more piercing. Yet Toji remained perfectly at ease, even studying the spirits behind the bars with interest and occasionally offering a comment. "This one's pretty interesting. Not too bright, though. All it knows is charging around with brute force."

At the end of the passage, they came upon a separate holding chamber several times larger than the other cells. Layers upon layers of suppression sigils covered its walls. Inside the barrier at its center, an enormous Grade 2 Cursed Spirit paced restlessly.

Its body was pitch-black and covered in sharp bone spurs. Its head bore only a single crimson eye, glowing with bloodlust. Sensing their approach, it immediately let out a deafening roar and lunged at the barrier, only to be repelled by the sigils, sending a violent ripple of energy outward.

"This is the one." Toji stopped and stepped aside, motioning for Zhiyan to move forward. "Your task isn't to kill it. Just survive against it for the time it takes an incense stick to burn, and summon at least three shikigami to fight together. Remember, none of those rigid tactics the clan taught you. I want to see your own judgment. I want to see you truly put your shikigami to use, not just pile their abilities together."

Zhiyan's gaze settled on the Grade 2 Cursed Spirit, his pupils contracting slightly. Its cursed energy fluctuated with extreme violence, far beyond that of the Grade 3 Cursed Spirits he had faced before. Judging by its movements, both its speed and strength were astonishing. It would be anything but easy to handle.

"The time it takes an incense stick to burn? Against a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit? Are you serious?" Zhiyan turned to Toji, a subtle note of doubt in his voice. According to the clan's teachings, when facing a cursed spirit of this level, one would usually summon a powerful offensive shikigami such as Nue to suppress it head-on, with Divine Dogs keeping watch. Two shikigami at most would be enough to handle it safely. But beyond all that was the most important problem: he was only six years old. Did this guy even see him as a child?

"What? Can't do it?" Toji raised an eyebrow, his tone provocative. "Or can you only follow the Zenin Clan's playbook, and panic the moment something throws off your rhythm?"

As he spoke, he took a small incense stick from inside his clothes, casually lit it, and set it on a nearby stone platform. "If you can't hold out until this burns down, or you fail to meet the requirements, today's training counts as a failure. Your punishment will be staying here alone tonight and spending the night with these 'little cuties.'"

Zhiyan's brows knitted tighter, and exasperation surged through him once more. This was not teaching; it was deliberate torment. But remembering why he had chosen Toji in the first place, remembering his desire to break those rigid rules, he suppressed his objections, and his gaze grew firm again.

"Fine." With that single word, he stepped toward the barrier.

Watching his back, Toji curled his lips into an amused smile. He casually pulled over a stone stool and sat down, then took a pack of cigarettes from inside his clothes and leisurely lit one, as though he were about to enjoy an entertaining show rather than a dangerous battle. "Go ahead. I won't go easy on you. If you're about to get bitten to death, I'll remember to collect your body."

The moment he finished speaking, the Grade 2 Cursed Spirit seemed to become utterly enraged. It roared again, its cursed energy surging as it lunged toward Zhiyan, its single crimson eye burning with deadly intent.

Zhiyan took a deep breath. His cursed energy instantly began circulating, and his fingers formed a hand sign. "Come forth, Divine Dogs, Rabbit Escape, Toad!"

Three flashes of cursed energy shone, and the agile forms of Divine Dogs, the swift figures of Rabbit Escape, and Toad's massive body appeared simultaneously, protecting him in a triangular formation. This time, he did not follow the clan's prescribed pattern of "Divine Dogs attacking, Rabbit Escape disrupting, and Toad supporting." Instead, judging the cursed spirit's incoming trajectory, he made an instant decision. "Divine Dogs, pin it down from the left! Rabbit Escape, circle behind and harass it! Toad, defend the front!"

As though sensing how different his orders were from before, the shikigami moved without the slightest hesitation. Divine Dogs growled low and became dark blurs lunging toward the cursed spirit's left flank, their sharp claws carrying wind blades. Rabbit Escape flickered, instantly appearing behind the cursed spirit and multiplying rapidly to obstruct its vision. Toad inflated his belly and spat out thick, sticky cursed energy, forming a defensive screen.

The battle erupted. The cursed spirit's shrieks, the shikigami's roars, and the explosive crashes of colliding cursed energy echoed through the holding chamber. Toji leaned back on the stone stool with a cigarette between his lips, but his gaze gradually grew serious. His eyes tracked Zhiyan's every movement and every command, a barely perceptible trace of approval flashing within them.

Zhiyan, meanwhile, was completely immersed in the fight. His mind held no rigid tactics, only real-time judgments of the battlefield and precise control over his shikigami. He knew this was not merely training, but a test of himself-a test of whether he could truly break free of his restraints and take control of the Ten Shadows Technique's power.