A Single Spark

When Yan Zu left Rongbao Studio, he had a contract and an advance deposit of ten Silver Soul Coins tucked into his sleeve.

Xiao Wu skipped along beside him, chattering excitedly. "Little Brother A-Zu, our book is really going to be printed! Do you think anyone will buy it?"

"They will." Yan Zu looked at the people passing on the street. "Because people need stories, laughter, and... a tiny spark of wisdom."

The first few days passed without a ripple.

One hundred copies of Star Dou Night Tales lay quietly on Rongbao Studio's shelves. Among practical books like Soul Beast Illustrated Guide and Basic Meditation Methods, they looked out of place.

Occasionally, a customer would leaf through one, only to smile and put it down. In a Soul Master's world, who had time for stories meant to amuse children?

The turning point came on the fifth day.

The seven-year-old youngest son of Nuoding City's garrison captain happened to open the book while waiting for his father at Rongbao Studio.

The Spirit Fox Cleverly Tricks Three Wolves had him giggling, and he insisted that his father buy it. Unable to refuse him, the captain spent one Silver Soul Coin.

The next day, the boy took the book to school.

The stories spread like wildfire.

"Did you know? That fox pretended it had a terrifying helper and scared three wolves away!"

"I like The Ant Colony Moves a Mountain better! Those little ants worked together and actually moved a boulder millions of times bigger than they were!"

"My dad read me The Nightingale and the Rose last night, and even my mom cried..."

In just three days, all one hundred copies sold out.

A long line formed outside Rongbao Studio. Some children dragged their parents over to buy a copy, while servants from noble households came looking for it on their young masters' and mistresses' orders. Even teachers from several academies came to ask about it, hoping to use it as extracurricular reading.

Both surprised and delighted, Shopkeeper Chen urgently ordered another five hundred copies printed and sent a message by carrier pigeon to the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect headquarters, along with a sample copy and a sales report.

On the tenth day, the news reached Heaven Dou City.

The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, the sect master's study.

Ning Fengzhi put down the letter and the thin booklet, surprise appearing on his refined face.

His daughter, Ning Rongrong, had just finished pestering him to "tell the fox story again." Now, seeing the words "sold out in three days in Nuoding City; five thousand more copies to be printed and sent to each branch" in the report, he was deeply shaken.

"Father, this story is so good." Eight-year-old Ning Rongrong lay across his lap, her delicate little face full of anticipation. "The person who wrote it must be very clever and gentle! Can we meet him?"

Ning Fengzhi ruffled his daughter's hair, but his gaze fell on the lines of the story.

These seemingly simple fables contained ideals of equality, cooperation, wisdom, and kindness, faintly resonating with the path of development for the sect that he had long been contemplating.

The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect could not rely on the Sword and Bone Douluo forever. It had to cultivate more talented people and unite more forces.

"Rongrong, you want to meet the author?" Ning Fengzhi asked gently.

"Mm!" Ning Rongrong nodded vigorously. "He must be a very interesting person!"

"What a remarkable Wen Yansheng..." Ning Fengzhi murmured to himself. "Look into him. I want to know everything about this gentleman.

"And another thing-" He gave a decisive order. "Tell Rongbao Studio in Nuoding City to print five thousand more copies and send them through our trade routes to the major cities of Heaven Dou and the Star Luo Empire! Remember, the price is to remain one Silver Soul Coin. The sect will cover any losses!"

"Sect Master, this..." An elder beside him hesitated. "At one Silver Soul Coin each, five thousand copies would be five thousand Silver Soul Coins, the equivalent of five hundred Gold Soul Coins. It isn't a huge sum, but..."

"You don't understand." Ning Fengzhi's eyes flashed. "This is called an investment.

"Someone who can write like this has a promising future. Sending charcoal in the snow now is a hundred times better than adding flowers to brocade later. Besides..."

He looked at his daughter's enraptured little face, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "These stories really are worth spreading across the continent."

Nuoding Academy, Dorm Seven.

Late at night, when all was quiet, Yan Zu sat cross-legged on his bed and sank his consciousness into his mental world.

For three days in a row, he had clearly felt the phantom image of the Xuanyuan Sword trembling.

It was not a violent fluctuation, but a subtle resonance, like spring rain nourishing all things. The once-dim golden patterns on the blade were brightening at a speed visible to the naked eye. By his rough estimate, the degree to which it had been unsealed had risen by about three percent.

More remarkably, he "heard" voices.

They were not actual voices, but a torrent formed from countless faint thoughts-

A child, having read The Ant Colony Moves a Mountain, mustered the courage to tell a classmate who bullied him, "We can play together."

A commoner Soul Master, after hearing a storyteller tell The Wise Old Turtle in a tavern, murmured to himself, "So using your head is more useful than using your fists."

A young noblewoman closed The Nightingale and the Rose, gazed at the moonlight outside her window, and wondered for the first time, "What is true love?"

These faint feelings of recognition, moments of being moved, and reflections were like countless fireflies, crossing space to gather around Yan Zu and merge into the Xuanyuan Sword. They were not Soul Power, yet they were more fundamental than Soul Power-they were the sparks of civilization, the echoes of wisdom.

"So that's how it is..." Yan Zu opened his eyes, his black eyes startlingly bright in the darkness. "The spread of culture is, at its core, the sowing of ideas. Everyone who accepts those ideas produces Vow Power through their 'recognition' of them. And the Xuanyuan Sword, as the sword of civilization's legacy, feeds on it."

He looked at Xiao Wu, sleeping soundly beside him. A sweet smile rested on the girl's lips; she was probably still savoring the stories in her dreams. The Qilin Little Jade lay beside her pillow, a warm, gentle jade light surrounding her, as though she too had been nourished by Vow Power.

"It's not enough yet," Yan Zu said softly. "For now, it's only Nuoding City. If I could spread the stories across the continent... how spectacular would the Vow Power gathered then be?"

He already had a plan for his next step. Star Dou Night Tales had opened up the market. Now he could bring out works with greater depth and impact.

The chivalry of The Song of Roland and the ideals of equality in The Legend of King Arthur would all become part of civilization's sparks.

At the same time, in Yu Xiaogang's dormitory, Tang San was leafing through a borrowed copy of Star Dou Night Tales.

The book had been all the rage in Nuoding City lately, and quite a few students at the academy were passing it around. Yu Xiaogang had therefore made a point of borrowing it to see what this so-called "new cultural trend" was.

He quickly flipped through a few pages, finding nothing but Soul Beasts laughing, quarreling, and matching wits, without a single practical technique for Soul Master cultivation. His lips immediately curled in disdain, and he tossed it onto the table. "Stuff to amuse children, and it deserves to be this popular?"

He found it absurd and could not understand why stories that offered no guidance on combat strength and served only as entertainment had attracted so much enthusiasm.

In his view, cultivation and combat strength were what mattered most to a Soul Master. Wasting time on such frivolous books was putting the cart before the horse.

Yet when he returned to Dorm Seven that night, he saw a scene that made his blood surge-Xiao Wu was lying beside Yan Zu, pestering him with shining eyes, her voice full of anticipation. "Little Brother A-Zu, tell me more about what happens after The Fox and the Wolf King. Can the fox really get all the Soul Beasts to live together in peace?"

Yan Zu shook his head helplessly, but still answered patiently. "Later, the fox led the wolf king to a source of water and taught everyone to divide up the work of finding food. The territory, where fighting had once been constant, gradually became peaceful..."

His voice was gentle as he narrated the details, vividly describing even additional episodes that weren't in some of the handwritten copies.

Xiao Wu listened, utterly entranced, exclaiming in wonder from time to time. She could even recite the book's classic lines as Yan Zu told the story, making no attempt to hide the admiration in her eyes.

Tang San stood in the doorway, watching how close the two were, watching Xiao Wu's rapt attention fixed solely on Yan Zu. A surge of jealousy he could scarcely contain rose in his heart.

He could not understand. Yan Zu was a work-study student just like him and should have been focused on cultivation, so why could he always use these trivial things to draw Xiao Wu's attention?

The book he had dismissed with contempt had Xiao Wu listening in such fascination.

He unconsciously clenched his fist, crushing the teacup in his hand. Shards cut his palm, and blood seeped out, but he did not notice at all. Jealousy spread wildly through his heart like a poisonous vine, and his gaze grew colder as he looked at Yan Zu.

Yan Zu, meanwhile, knew nothing of this, nor did he care. He was planning his next cultural exports-an adaptation of The Song of Roland was already on the agenda.

The runaway success of Star Dou Night Tales was only the first spark of civilization's spreading fire.

The cultural landscape of Douluo Continent was about to change because of him.