The next day, dawn had barely broken, and morning mist gently shrouded the Yang Family's training grounds.
Yang Chang'an let out an enormous yawn and lightly rubbed the corners of his eyes. Then he splashed cold water over his face, clearing some of the fog from his mind before heading toward the training grounds.
A tall, straight figure already stood at the center of the grounds.
Yang Wushuang stood with his hands behind his back. Today, he wore a fitted black training outfit, his graying hair tied back with a simple ribbon.
Hearing footsteps, Yang Wushuang turned around. His gaze fell on Yang Chang'an, and the faint dark circles beneath the boy's eyes made him chuckle.
"What's wrong? Didn't get enough sleep?"
"No!" Yang Chang'an hurriedly straightened his back and shook his head vigorously.
"I was just so excited after awakening my Martial Soul yesterday that I tossed and turned until well past midnight."
He was telling the truth. If his habit of getting up early to practice with his spear hadn't been carved into his bones over the past six years, he probably would have remained sealed beneath his blankets for quite some time today.
Yang Wushuang nodded in understanding. Never mind a child like Yang Chang'an-even an adult would likely have been too excited to sleep after what had happened yesterday.
"Training requires a balance between exertion and rest. You're still young. Getting enough sleep is essential."
Yang Wushuang's voice grew quieter as his gaze swept over the boy's slightly tired face.
"Why don't you go back and get some more sleep? There's no need to rush your spear training."
"No need!" Yang Chang'an immediately waved his hands in refusal without a second thought.
"Grandpa, I'm already used to getting up early. I wouldn't be able to sleep even if I went back now. Let's hurry up and get started!"
Seeing the light sparkling in his grandson's eyes, Yang Wushuang felt something stir within him. Some of the gloom between his brows faded. Then his expression abruptly turned solemn, and the aura around him became razor-sharp.
"Since you've made up your mind, I won't say any more." Yang Wushuang's voice was deep. "Today, I will formally teach you the inherited supreme art of our Breaking Clan-the Soul Breaking Spear Technique!"
The moment his words fell, Yang Wushuang raised his right hand slightly, and a dense black radiance suddenly burst from his palm. With a clear hum, a Soul Breaking Spear twice Yang Chang'an's height appeared in his hand.
The entire shaft was pitch-black, its tip as sharp as frost. At the same time, seven Soul Rings-two yellow, two purple, and three black-slowly rose from beneath his feet, radiating a pressure that made the heart tremble.
A level seventy-eight Soul Saint!
This was Yang Wushuang. Ever since that great battle five years ago, he had lost heart and spent years without devoting himself to cultivation. His cultivation had remained at the peak of the Soul Saint rank.
Even so, his strength still placed him among the foremost experts across the entire Douluo Continent. Moreover, the Soul Breaking Spear Martial Soul was renowned for its supreme offensive power. Among Soul Saints of the same level, Yang Wushuang was practically invincible!
Yang Chang'an had learned all this from things Yang Quji and Yang Xue had casually mentioned during their everyday conversations.
According to them, five years ago, Yang Wushuang had been full of vigor, strong enough to clash head-on with an ordinary Soul Douluo. Had that battle not broken his spirit, he probably would have overcome his bottleneck long ago and become a true Soul Douluo.
As a transmigrator who had thoroughly read the original story, Yang Chang'an understood the terror of the Soul Breaking Spear better than anyone. He also knew all too well the regrets surrounding Yang Wushuang and Yang Wudi, the Breaking Clan's twin prodigies.
In the original story, even Yang Wudi, whose spirit remained unbroken, eventually became entangled in the clan's affairs. Fifteen years later, he was still only a level eighty-two Soul Douluo, his level ranking last among the leaders of the Four Single-Attribute Clans.
A single great battle had blunted the Breaking Clan's edge and ruined the futures of two prodigies. At that thought, Yang Chang'an couldn't help feeling a pang of wistful regret.
"Chang'an, focus!"
The sharp, low command pulled Yang Chang'an out of his thoughts. He hurriedly gathered his concentration, cast aside every distracting thought, and fixed his gaze on the Soul Breaking Spear in Yang Wushuang's hand.
Yang Wushuang stood with his spear in hand, Soul Power slowly surging around him before gathering entirely at the spear's tip.
The formerly pitch-black tip now gleamed with a faint silver light. Even the air seemed to be torn apart by that piercing aura, giving off a faint hiss.
"The Soul Breaking Spear Technique seeks neither elaborate moves nor vast torrents of Soul Power. It pursues only one thing-concentrating all your Soul Power into a single point at the spear's tip, breaking through a surface with a point, and achieving the ultimate penetrating power!"
Before his words had fully faded, Yang Wushuang stamped down hard. Several fine cracks instantly spread across the bluestone paving as he became a black blur, moving with his spear.
"First form, Wind Piercing!"
The spear tip swept across, raising a fierce, whistling wind. The move looked simple, yet it pushed the use of Soul Power to its utmost. The wind was like a sharp blade, making the grass and trees along the edge of the training grounds rustle.
"Second form, Cloud Chasing!"
The spear tip thrust forward with incredible speed, leaving only a hazy afterimage. The air compressed in an instant, producing a muffled boom.
Yang Wushuang's movements were not fast. He broke down every move with exceptional clarity, yet each carried a relentless ferocity, as though the tip would taste blood the very next moment whenever he struck.
The fierce wind raised by the spear drove Yang Chang'an back again and again. He had to raise a hand to shield his cheeks, the flesh on his face trembling involuntarily, and he could barely keep his eyes fully open.
Yet he continued staring intently at Yang Wushuang's movements, his eyes filled with longing.
The spear was the king of all weapons.
In this world of extraordinary power, no boy could resist the romance of such cold steel.
Yang Chang'an watched every one of Yang Wushuang's moves with utmost care, firmly committing every detail of his movements and every circulation of Soul Power to memory.
But as he watched, his brows began to furrow slightly.
For some reason, he kept feeling that something was missing from Yang Wushuang's spear technique.
The moves flowed like drifting clouds and running water, yet that relentless momentum always held a hint of discord, as though something had bound it and kept it from being fully unleashed.
Is my level too low to understand it? Yang Chang'an wondered silently. Then he shook his head and pushed the thought aside.
Yang Wushuang was a level seventy-eight Soul Saint. His understanding of the Soul Breaking Spear was far beyond that of a novice who had only just awakened his Martial Soul. Surely Yang Chang'an simply hadn't reached the level needed to grasp the essence of this spear technique.
A short while later, Yang Wushuang drew back his spear and stood still. The seven Soul Rings slowly vanished, and the sharp aura around him dissipated with them.
"Did you see everything clearly?" Yang Wushuang looked at Yang Chang'an, his tone calm once more.
"I memorized it." Yang Chang'an nodded firmly, a hint of confidence in his voice.
Ever since transmigrating into this world, he had gained the photographic memory he had dreamed of in his previous life. That was also why he had been able to master the basic spear techniques so quickly over the past six years.
Besides, what Yang Wushuang had just demonstrated were all basic moves of the Soul Breaking Spear Technique. Though intricate, they were not complicated. With his memory, he could naturally remember every one of them.
At this, a smile finally appeared at the corners of Yang Wushuang's mouth, and his eyes filled with greater satisfaction.
"Good. Come, give it a try."
"Yes!"
Yang Chang'an answered and took a deep breath. Black light flashed in his right palm, and his own Soul Breaking Spear instantly appeared in his hand.
He walked to the center of the training grounds, steadied his mind, and slowly raised his Soul Breaking Spear as he recalled Yang Wushuang's movements.
"Wind Piercing!"
With a low shout, Yang Chang'an swept his spear across. Soul Power flowed down his arm into the spear and gathered toward its tip. But his Soul Power was far too meager, and the tip raised only a faint whisper of wind-a world apart from the might Yang Wushuang had displayed.
"Lower your wrist a little more. Don't rush to release your Soul Power. Circulate it through the shaft once first, then gather it at the tip!"
Yang Wushuang's voice sounded at just the right moment. With a slight shift of his feet, he arrived beside the boy and reached out to gently correct his posture.
"Cloud Chasing!"
Yang Chang'an struck again, adjusting his movements according to Yang Wushuang's guidance. This time, the Soul Power at the spear's tip was more tightly condensed, and his thrust was somewhat faster.
"Not bad. You're improving." Yang Wushuang nodded and patiently instructed him.
"Unite your waist with your stance. When you strike, draw on the strength of your waist. Only then will your spear have greater stability and power."
Yang Chang'an practiced while listening to Yang Wushuang's instruction, constantly adjusting his movements.
Though his moves were unpolished and his Soul Power somewhat lacking, he learned exceptionally quickly. Every attempt brought visible improvement.
On the other side of the training grounds, Yang Quji and Yang Xue stood shoulder to shoulder, their eyes fixed on the grandfather and grandson at the center.
Watching Yang Chang'an practice with clumsy but earnest movements, Yang Xue knitted her brows tightly, her eyes full of worry.
"Uncle, ever since what happened back then, Second Brother's Soul Breaking Spear has lost its true flavor. That relentless momentum disappeared long ago. Is it really all right to have him teach Chang'an?"
Yang Quji stroked the goatee on his chin, looking impassively toward the center of the grounds, his gaze complex and unreadable. He remained silent for a moment before slowly speaking.
"If he doesn't teach him, who can? Neither you nor I understand the Soul Breaking Spear nearly as well as Wushuang. The others in the clan don't even bear mentioning."
"As for that momentum..." Yang Quji paused, his gaze falling on Yang Chang'an.
"That's forged through real combat, not taught. Once Chang'an is a little older, once he's seen more and killed more, that relentless momentum will come naturally."
"But..." Yang Xue wanted to say more, but in the end, her words dissolved into a helpless sigh.
"That's all we can do. I hope Chang'an won't be influenced by Second Brother and can forge a path of his own."