Tang San, lying on the stretcher, also felt waves stirring in his heart.
When his master had seen through his twin martial souls at a glance, he had simply taken it as proof of his ability.
Only now, hearing Yao Xuan's words, did he begin to taste something else in it.
"Y-you... how did you know..."
Yu Xiaogang knelt on the ground, his lips trembling, his voice already carrying a sob.
Yao Xuan did not answer. He merely cast him an indifferent glance, then turned toward Tang San.
"Tang San, let me ask you this."
"You're a genius with innate full soul power and a second martial soul."
"Yet your first soul ring is merely a white ten-year soul ring!"
At this point, Yao Xuan paused, his gaze settling on the white ring behind Tang San:
"Tang San, do you think that's normal?"
At Yao Xuan's words, Tang San's expression instantly changed.
For that question had struck precisely the thorn in his heart he least wanted anyone to touch.
He naturally understood that, given his talent, his first soul ring should never have been white.
Yet now, that white ring hung conspicuously behind him.
"What are you trying to say?"
Tang San raised his head, his voice somewhat strained.
"What I'm trying to say is-"
Looking at Tang San on the stretcher, Yao Xuan sneered:
"That white ten-year ring was brought upon you by that utter piece of trash, Yu Xiaogang, with his own hands!"
As his words fell, the entire gathering erupted in an uproar.
"No way! Tang San has innate full soul power. How is his first soul ring only a ten-year soul ring?"
A student muttered quietly.
"Exactly. With his talent, shouldn't his first soul ring have been at least a hundred-year one?"
Another student immediately chimed in.
"Hmph, what good could come of following such a useless master?"
Other students looked at Yu Xiaogang, their faces full of gloating.
"Tang San, you're his only disciple."
"He's always going on about martial soul theory, claiming he could teach a Titled Douluo."
Looking at Tang San, Yao Xuan said coldly:
"And the result?"
"You followed him, and your first soul ring was a white ten-year ring!"
"Tang San, tell me yourself: wasn't Yu Xiaogang the one who saddled you with that white ring?"
"Teacher Yao Xuan, forgive me, but I cannot agree!"
Hearing Yao Xuan's words, Tang San turned pale, then forced himself halfway upright.
"My master's learning encompasses heaven and man. What he's taught me is enough to benefit me for a lifetime!"
"As for that soul ring, it was my own bad fortune. No one else is to blame."
"If you intend to use this to slander my master, I'll be the first to object!"
Those words rang out loud and clear.
"Even now, he's still protecting his master?"
"If you ask me, those two are cut from the same cloth: one a fraud, the other a fool!"
"Why put on an act as a devoted disciple? Where was all this loyalty when you gave false testimony in public?"
The students watching, however, exchanged glances before bursting into laughter.
Listening to their mockery, Tang San wore an ugly expression, but an entirely different feeling filled his heart.
He had lived two lifetimes, and he had always been the one scheming against others.
When had he ever fallen so low that he had to proclaim his loyalty in public and take abuse on someone else's behalf?
Besides, what he had lost was far more than a single soul ring.
That had been his first step into the soul master world!
With that step having missed its footing, he would have to fight desperately to catch up with every step afterward!
Yet he could only swallow this bitterness, without letting the slightest hint show.
And something else left an even worse taste in his mouth.
When he had first become his disciple, he had thought he had stumbled upon an enormous bargain.
Only now did he understand: if anyone had gained an advantage, that old fellow kneeling on the ground had probably gained far more!
"A teacher for a day is a father for life."
"My master's kindness toward me is as weighty as a mountain."
Tang San continued speaking.
Yet those two utterances of "master" carried a little less weight than they had half a year ago.
His face, however, still wore that same gentle, respectful, and humble look.
After all, he could afford to lose face, but he could not afford to lose his reputation as "pure as ice and jade"!
Yao Xuan no longer looked at him.
"Yu Xiaogang, I'll ask you one last time."
Looking down at Yu Xiaogang kneeling in the mud, Yao Xuan spoke indifferently:
"Will. You. Admit it, or not?"
At Yao Xuan's words, Yu Xiaogang jerked his head up, every vein in his neck standing taut.
"I will not!"
"Yao Xuan, you're spitting bloody slander without a shred of evidence!"
"I, Yu Xiaogang, have devoted twenty years to studying martial soul theory. How could I allow a mere youngster like you..."
Only when he raised his head did everyone clearly see what he looked like now.
The hem of his gray robe was already soaked with muddy water, clinging tightly to his body.
His graying hair was a tangled mess, strands plastered to his temples.
His lips shook uncontrollably, and his teeth kept chattering.
Yet even so, every word that sprang from his mouth was more defiant than the last.
But he never managed to finish what he was saying.
For the next moment, Yao Xuan had raised his foot and planted it squarely on the back of his head!
Thud!
A muffled impact sounded.
Yu Xiaogang's entire face was pressed firmly into the dirt. The bridge of his nose struck a piece of broken stone, and blood immediately gushed out.
The blood mixed into the mud, but the moment he opened his mouth, that mud poured straight inside.
He dared not open his mouth again and could only wheeze through his nose.
Before that wheeze was finished, it became a muffled whimper.
His hands and feet scrabbled wildly in the mud, dirt packed beneath his fingernails.
Far from showing the slightest pity, Nuoding Academy's teachers and students burst into cheers.
"Teacher Yao Xuan, well stomped!"
A student shouted excitedly.
"A wretch like him deserves exactly this!"
"Yes! It's about time he had a taste of it himself!"
Voices chimed in one after another, each drowning out the last.
And the oppressive pressure still pinned his back down.
Yu Xiaogang's chest began heaving violently.
Yet he could not draw a single breath!
Every time he tried to inhale, all he drew in was a mouthful of mud and grit.
At first, he could still hear the cheers and curses around him.
But later, even those sounds gradually faded from his hearing.
Only a buzzing remained inside his head.
His eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
Just as he felt he was about to pass out-
That foot slowly moved away.
"Cough! Cough, cough, cough-!"
Yu Xiaogang lay sprawled on the ground, coughing violently.
With every cough, his entire body shook.
His mouth hung open as he gulped down breath after breath.
Mud, blood, snot, and tears coated his entire face.
His once reasonably regular features now scarcely looked human.
He tried to raise a hand to wipe his face, but it shook so badly that he could not even find his face properly, only smearing the mud farther.
"Yu Xiaogang."
Looking down at him from above, Yao Xuan spoke indifferently:
"Now, will you admit it or not?"
Before you continue