Chapter 2: Awakening of the Martial Soul

Ning Xi smiled gently, her eyes brimming with affection as she took her hand. “Alright then, from now on, Rongrong will watch over me.”

She had already been stuck in a mental dead end. Despite possessing memories from ten thousand years later and, as a Soul Master, knowing methods of crafting Soul Devices that did not exist in this era, she still found herself fixated on the Qiluo Tulip.

As a disciple of the Nine Treasures Glazed Tile Sect, she understood the uses of countless treasures, including whale glue.

With all this knowledge, as long as she didn’t recklessly court death, reviving the glory of the Nine Treasures Glazed Tile Sect was entirely within reach; even ascending beyond the title of Douluo was not a mere fantasy.

Yet here she was, obsessed with that Qiluo Tulip.

She gave a self-mocking smile and strode ahead, holding Ning Rongrong’s hand.

Rongrong cheerfully allowed herself to be led, obedient despite her usual playful nature, hopping along as they soon arrived before a grand hall.

The hall stood in the core area of the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect, surrounded by lush bamboo groves and blooming flowers, as if isolated from the world, filled with serenity and peace.

Its imposing main doors were flanked by two enormous glazed tile pagoda statues, their bodies emitting soft, multicolored light, as if guarding this sacred place.

Rongrong eagerly entered the hall, greeted by an atmosphere of solemn reverence.

Inside, the hall was vast, with a soaring dome that seemed to pierce the sky. The ceiling was adorned with countless softly glowing, multicolored glazed beads, resembling stars scattered across the night sky, weaving a dreamlike tapestry of light and shadow.

Ning Xi felt a sudden dizziness, as if transported to a dream. After all, ten thousand years later, the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect was no longer as prosperous and magnificent as it was now.

This stark contrast stirred a flicker of stubborn pride deep within her heart.

It shouldn’t be this way.

On the elevated platform inside the hall, three men of imposing presence stood with their hands behind their backs, their eyes burning with intensity as they surveyed everyone present.

The man in the center was tall and upright, with delicate features exuding elegance and gentleness. Clad in a flowing azure robe, his demeanor was as pure as jade, his eyes harboring profound wisdom. His black hair was neatly tied into a crown, enhancing his spirited appearance. A gentle smile graced his face, exuding a spring breeze-like warmth that seemed to dissolve all tension.

This was Ning Fengzhi, the sect leader of the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect.

To his left stood a large, rugged man with an ancient, weathered face and dark skin. His sharp eyes shone like twin blades of cold light, radiating an unspoken authority. His untamed black hair added to his wild aura.

This was Gu Douluo, Gulong.

On the right was a tall, stern-looking middle-aged man.

His sword-like eyebrows slanted sharply into his temples, his gaze as piercing as a blade, capable of seeing through all falsehoods in the world. His white hair was casually tied back, with a few stray strands fluttering in the breeze, adding to his rebellious air.

He stood tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a deep blue robe. A simple ancient sword hung at his waist, its sapphire-encrusted hilt gleaming coldly in the sunlight, enhancing his majestic presence.

This was Jian Douluo, Chen Xin.

Suddenly, Ning Rongrong’s eyes lit up. She hurried forward and threw herself into this man’s arms, then into the other two’s embraces, showering them with affection.

All three men’s eyes brimmed with tenderness.

“Grandpa Jian!”

“Dad!”

“Grandpa Gu!”

Ning Xi remained composed, respectfully bowing slightly to the man and offering a polite smile. “Father, Grandpa Jian, Grandpa Gu.”

Though reborn ten thousand years in the past as Ning Fengzhi’s daughter, she dared not be too presumptuous, her heart filled more with reverence. To witness these ancestors with her own eyes was a great blessing.

Respect involuntarily surfaced in Ning Xi’s gaze. Thinking of the future, a trace of regret flickered in her heart, soon replaced by firm resolve.

Ning Fengzhi smiled and nodded, gently ruffling Ning Rongrong’s hair with a look of indulgence and helplessness. “Alright, Rongrong, learn from your sister. Don’t be willful. It’s time to awaken your soul spirit—line up obediently.”

His gaze shifted to Ning Xi, eyes tinged with curiosity.

Strangely, although this daughter was not Rongrong’s full sibling, from the moment she was born—after a brief period of confusion—she had been especially sensible and calm.

Though she called him “Father,” there was only respect in her eyes; she never acted spoiled or coquettish.

Moreover, she seemed well acquainted with sect affairs, her behavior unlike that of a typical child.

Luckily, this daughter harbored no ill intentions, spending her days reading or lost in thought.

Remarkably, even the usually willful Rongrong was particularly obedient and well-behaved in Ning Xi’s presence.

Below the platform was the awakening stage, where an equally solemn elder stood.

Upon seeing Ning Xi and Ning Rongrong, he also revealed a warm smile and respect.

Many peers looked on with envy. To be so cherished by such esteemed figures was indeed a source of pride and joy.

No matter how willful Rongrong was, she understood the occasion and soon exited the embrace to line up obediently.

Ning Xi stood at the back of the line, right behind Ning Rongrong, the last to take her place.

This year, over a dozen children were awakening their soul spirits. The atmosphere was quiet, tinged with tension.

The elder was slender but straight-backed, exuding vigor. His face was marked by deep wrinkles, revealing a wisdom born of years.

His name was Mo Yun, and his soul spirit was an ancient wooden vine staff. The staff was entwined with old vines, exuding a faint woody fragrance, its surface bearing the marks of time. At its tip was carved a lifelike spirit bird, as if ready to take flight.

His soul spirit was a rare mutation. At birth, his innate soul power was at level seven, a decent talent. Now, he had reached the Soul Saint rank, and it was always he who conducted the sect’s soul awakening ceremonies.

On the elevated platform, Ning Fengzhi and the others watched attentively.

The sect’s disciples had been nurtured from childhood; they were familiar with soul awakening and felt neither fear nor dread, only anticipation and nervousness.

“Ning Fei, Soul Device spirit: Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Pagoda, innate soul power level 5.”

“Ye Lin, Soul Device spirit: Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Pagoda, innate soul power level 6.”

“Cheng Tie, Soul Device spirit: Iron-Blood Battle Shield, innate soul power level 4.”

“Ning De, Soul Device spirit: Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Pagoda, innate soul power level 5.”

“...”

“Ning Qing, Soul Device spirit: Flaming Battle Axe, innate soul power level 6.”

“Ning Yi, Beast spirit: Azure Vine Spirit Snake, innate soul power level 4.”

“Zhou Min, Soul Device spirit: Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Pagoda, innate soul power level 6.”

...

“Sigh!”

Listening to these children’s soul spirits and innate soul power levels, Ning Fengzhi felt a pang of helplessness and sighed.

“These children’s innate levels aren’t very high. I wonder if they will achieve greater heights in the future? Unfortunately, our Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Pagoda has an inherent flaw...”