Douluo: When the piano sounds, the hidden weapon returns to the factory

Chapter 39 Bottom Line
The second day of the Continental Advanced Soul Master Academy Elite Tournament has officially begun. Ten of the twenty-eight participating teams have already entered the arena, and the layout of the entire Soul Arena has changed significantly compared to the first day—in addition to the central main arena, four additional secondary arenas of the same size have been added around it. The five giant arenas are distributed throughout the vast arena, which can accommodate 80,000 people, without appearing crowded at all.

Today's schedule continues, dividing the 28 teams into three groups. Shrek Academy is in Group 1, and their opponent is none other than Elephant Academy, one of the favorites to win this tournament. Given the impressive strength displayed by both sides in the first round, this highly anticipated match was unsurprisingly scheduled to take place on the main central stage.

In the VIP section, the lineup was almost identical to that at the opening ceremony. Emperor Xueye sat at the head of the table, with two more figures beside him beside Ning Fengzhi and Salas. One was the pillar of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School—Bone Douluo Gu Rong, and the other was a colossal giant who was unforgettable.

This extraordinary figure resembled a humanoid mountain, towering at least two and a half meters tall even while seated, occupying three seats. His dark skin gleamed with a metallic sheen, and his enormous, bell-like eyes shone with a sharp, piercing light. Though his hair and beard were completely white, the oppressive aura emanating from him caused the surrounding VIPs to turn their heads involuntarily.

Feng Yao's gaze shifted between Gu Rong and Xiao Wu in the Shrek Academy camp, a hint of surprise in his eyes. He thought to himself, "Without the concealment of the Acacia Heartbreak Red, how did she hide her soul beast aura?" He tapped the armrest lightly with his fingertips. "Could it be... Tang Hao's doing?"

As the only human Soul Master who knew Xiao Wu's true form, that Haotian Douluo must have had a backup plan. Feng Yao secretly speculated that even without the blessing of the Autumn Water Dew, Tang San's Purple Demon Eyes would probably still struggle to see through this disguise.
Feng Yao shook his head slightly, casting aside his superfluous thoughts. "Forget it, what does this have to do with me?" he murmured to himself, his fingertips unconsciously caressing the strings of the "Fuxi" zither. He understood the principle of a wise man not standing under a dangerous wall better than anyone—he could easily manipulate Qian Renxue now, so why would he be foolish enough to provoke the legendary Haotian Douluo?

His gaze returned to the arena, a composed smile appearing on Feng Yao's lips. He firmly believed that the path of cultivation lay in gradual progress; when one's strength was sufficient, opportunity would naturally arrive as promised. Like a rare and precious flower in a secluded valley, once it blooms and releases its fragrance, butterflies will naturally follow. This is what is meant by striving without striving.

Feng Yao gently stroked the strings of his zither, a profound realization flashing in his eyes. "The best strategy is to contend without contending."

Feng Yao firmly believed that a Soul Master's understanding of their Martial Soul was far more important than their Soul Power level or a Soul Bone skill, at least when everyone had the same potential.

In the original novel, Qian Renxue's defeat was, in her eyes, the result of being overly obsessed with "competition." A prodigy possessing level twenty innate soul power, she should have reached the Divine Realm much earlier than Tang San. Unfortunately, she wasted too much time on her rivalry with Bibi Dong—in order to prove she could surpass Bibi Dong, Qian Renxue devoted a great deal of time to political maneuvering that was meaningless to her.

"What a pity." Feng Yao sighed softly as he looked at the snow-white figure in the VIP section.

With this in mind, Feng Yao's gaze became even more resolute. Now that his fate and Qian Renxue's fate were intertwined, he would not allow the original ending to repeat itself.

"Continue to explore the uses of ultrasound, and quickly master it, even integrating it with the Tang Sect's unique skills." Feng Yao gently stroked "Fuxi," feeling the soul power flowing within his body.

The strings of the "Fuxi" zither in Feng Yao's arms trembled slightly as they had yesterday, and invisible sound waves quietly spread, creating barely perceptible ripples in the air. This subtle detection technique went unnoticed even by the Soul Douluo powerhouses maintaining order in the arena.

However, Gu Rong, the Bone Douluo in the VIP section, suddenly frowned—as a Title Douluo most sensitive to spatial fluctuations, he instantly locked onto Feng Yao's location. A hint of interest flashed in his sharp, hawk-like eyes: "An interesting little fellow."

"Uncle Gu, what's wrong?" Ning Fengzhi noticed Gu Rong's unusual behavior and asked in a low voice without making a sound.

Gu Rong's voice rang directly in Ning Fengzhi's mind: "A young man is using his martial soul ability to probe the arena; his technique is quite exquisite."

A hint of surprise flashed in Ning Fengzhi's eyes. Using one's martial soul ability to secretly investigate was, to some extent, interfering with the competition. What shocked him even more was that such an act had managed to deceive so many experts present, and the one who performed it was a young man.

"If I weren't exceptionally sensitive to spatial fluctuations, I probably wouldn't have noticed them either," Gu Rong said with a hint of admiration. "They're just a short distance to your right rear."

Ning Fengzhi, under the guise of adjusting his sleeves, subtly glanced in the direction the ancient banyan tree was pointing. When he saw Feng Yao cradling "Fuxi," his pupils contracted slightly: "It was him."

Noticing the strange look in Ning Fengzhi's eyes, Gu Rong's intrigued voice rang in his mind again: "What? Fengzhi, do you know this young man?"

“Hmm,” Ning Fengzhi lightly stroked the scepter in his hand, replying telepathically, “This boy is named Feng Yao, and he is under Qinghe’s command.”

Upon hearing this, even Gu Rong's usually impassive face showed surprise: "I didn't expect the Heavenly Dou royal family could cultivate such a talent." He glanced meaningfully at Xue Qinghe, who was sitting upright in the distance, "This kid certainly has a good eye."

Ning Fengzhi said no more, simply elegantly picking up his teacup and taking a sip. As the tea's aroma filled the air, he was already planning to send someone to Notting City to thoroughly investigate Feng Yao's background. After all, a young man praised by Uncle Gu was no ordinary person.
"Although he's not suitable for the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, there might be a way he can be useful."

Ning Fengzhi stared at Tang San leading the Shrek Academy team into the arena, a hint of emotion flashing in his eyes. "A small border town like Notting City has actually nurtured two such extraordinary youths at the same time." He sighed inwardly, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the scepter in his hand.

On the sidelines, Feng Yao's "Fuxi" zither strings vibrated slightly, clearly transmitting the scene on the field into his mind. When he sensed the physique of the Xiangjia Academy team members, he couldn't help but widen his eyes—each of those students was over two meters tall, with bulging muscles all over their bodies, standing there like moving city walls.

"I don't know what these guys ate to grow up like this. Although the influence of martial spirit is great, this is too outrageous." Feng Yao clicked his tongue in amazement. "If they were on the battlefield, they would be like human battering rams." He could even imagine the scene of these giants charging in heavy armor and the earth shaking.

With the referee's whistle, the match officially began. Feng Yao's gaze was fixed firmly on Tang San, and invisible sound waves enveloped the entire arena like a spider web.

Tang San, standing in the arena, suddenly paused, his brows furrowing involuntarily. That feeling of being watched returned—no matter how much he activated his Purple Demon Eye or pushed his Mysterious Heaven Skill to its limit, he couldn't find a single clue. But a martial artist's keen intuition told him that a pair of eyes were watching his every move from the shadows.

"Could it be..." A flicker of realization crossed Tang San's eyes, and his tense shoulders gradually relaxed. "Father was watching the battle from the shadows?"

This thought warmed his heart, and his tense nerves relaxed. Tang San took a deep breath and refocused his attention on his opponent. The seven "humanoid fortresses" of Elephant Armor Academy had formed a battle formation, pressing down with overwhelming force.

"No matter what, let's win this match first." Tang San's eyes blazed with purple light, and Blue Silver Grass, like a serpent, spread from his palm.
Through the ultrasonic perception of "Fuxi," Feng Yao clearly captured every subtle change in Tang San's movements. He noticed that when Tang San's Blue Silver Grass came into contact with the Elephant Armor Sect disciples, it cleverly avoided their hardest points, instead wrapping around their joints and other vulnerable areas. "Such precise control," Feng Yao secretly admired, his fingertips unconsciously trembling slightly with Tang San's movements. This almost instinctive combat intuition was clearly honed through countless life-or-death battles. The trajectory of each Blue Silver Grass was as precise as a scalpel, specifically targeting the opponent's most vulnerable joints and acupoints.

Watching Tang San's fluid and effortless fighting style, Feng Yao couldn't help but feel somewhat ashamed of himself. As a transmigrator from modern civilization, he inherently carried a degree of restraint and hesitation characteristic of civilized people. He would unconsciously hold back when making a move, unable to achieve Tang San's decisive and ruthless actions.

Feng Yao's fingers lightly brushed across the strings, emitting a barely audible sigh. "This is the difference," he said, gazing at Tang San's sharp figure in the arena, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes.

As a time traveler, he could never completely abandon the principles of humanity, bottom line, morality, and dignity of life that modern civilization instilled in him. Apart from necessary life-or-death struggles, he would always instinctively leave room for maneuver in his daily life.

"To become like Tang San, to make killing an instinct," Feng Yao shook his head self-deprecatingly, "you have to kill a part of your own soul first."

The strings vibrated slightly, as if responding to the inner struggle of their master. Feng Yao knew very well that in this dog-eat-dog world, such persistence might become a fatal weakness. But some things, even in death, should not be easily abandoned.
Feng Yao never considered himself a saint, but he was by no means a demon who had lost all humanity.

He knew that he still retained the imprint of modern civilization in his bones—something he was unwilling to erase no matter what.

In this dog-eat-dog world, this persistence may seem laughable, but it is precisely this "laughable" persistence that allows him to remember where he came from. It is because of those memories that he has achieved what he has today.

“There are some bottom lines,” Feng Yao murmured to himself, “once crossed, there’s no going back.”

Qian Renxue seemed to sense something and turned to glance at him. Feng Yao met her gaze, a smile playing on his lips. He knew that if Qian Renxue knew his thoughts, in her eyes, his indecisiveness would probably seem childish and laughable.

On the field, the battle between the Shrek team and the Elephant Academy has entered a fierce stage. Feng Yao's fingertips lightly caress the strings, taking in the entire battle situation through the feedback of the sound waves.

"Brilliant." A hint of admiration flashed in his eyes. Tang San was currently employing a tactic that perfectly combined distraction control with Crane Control and Dragon Capture—using Blue Silver Grass to control the Shrek Academy members, using Oscar's flying sausages to avoid the Elephant Armor Academy's offensive, while simultaneously directing the entire team's coordination.

Feng Yao unconsciously hovered his fingers above the strings. As a musician, he understood best how much effort was required behind such exquisite control. Every note had to be perfect, just like how Tang San controlled each of his Blue Silver Grasses to land in the most suitable position for his teammates.

Feng Yao stared at Tang San's fluid and graceful fighting rhythm, lost in thought. Ordinary musicians, through years of practice, can develop precise muscle memory in their fingers—an instinct that imprints their skills into their bodies.

But the "distraction control" that Tang San was demonstrating was clearly more profound. It wasn't just muscle memory; it was the division and application of mental power, like simultaneously conducting multiple independent orchestras playing different movements. Each divided soul maintained complete judgment and execution, yet was perfectly unified under the overall tactic.

"It's like..." Feng Yao's fingers unconsciously pressed lightly above the strings, "His left hand playing the murderous sounds of 'Ambush from Ten Sides,' while his right hand was about to perform the tender and melodious 'Three Variations on Plum Blossom.'"

This level of control transcends the realm of mere skill and touches upon the profound mystery of the division of spiritual power.

Feng Yao's fingertips gently caressed the strings, a fervent glint in his eyes. "Such exquisite control techniques are unfortunately not internal energy cultivation; there's no obvious energy flow, so I can't learn them."

His gaze inadvertently swept over the snow-white figure in the VIP section, and Feng Yao's lips curled into a slight smile.

"I'll have to ask her tonight if there's any chance of getting it."

The "Fuxi" in his arms seemed to sense something; its seven strings moved automatically without wind, emitting a faint, resonant sound. Feng Yao shook his head and chuckled, pulling his wandering thoughts back to the arena. If he could learn this method of distraction control, both "Fuxi" and the "Innate Eight Trigrams Plate" would have greater potential for development.

Soon, Tang San, using his powerful control abilities in conjunction with Dai Mubai and Zhu Zhuqing's Netherworld White Tiger, finally found a weakness in the Elephant Armor Sect's ironclad formation. The Netherworld White Tiger unleashed a fierce charge, tearing through the defenses and instantly shattering the Elephant Armor Academy's seemingly impregnable defensive formation.

"boom!"

A muffled thud suddenly came from the VIP seats. The Elephant Armor Sect Master, Huyan Zhen, stood there, his face ashen, his massive, fan-like hands crushing the armrests of the gilded chair to pieces. Wood chips fell from between his fingers, shimmering with golden light in the sunlight.

Hu Yanzhen's knuckles clenched until they turned white, his chest churning with an unquenchable resentment. He clearly saw it clearly—the impregnable wall formed by three Soul Master-level Elephant Armor Sect elites, led by Changsun Hu Yanli, should not have been defeated by a mere Martial Soul Fusion Technique.

"This shouldn't be happening," he roared inwardly. The Netherworld White Tiger was indeed powerful, but normally, the three Elephant Armor Sect disciples working together could definitely withstand it. If they could just weather this burst of power, victory should have been within their grasp.

But reality delivered a resounding slap in the face. Shrek Academy not only shattered their prized defensive formation but also ended the match with overwhelming force. Hu Yanzhen stared intently at the boy controlling the Blue Silver Grass in the arena, his cloudy eyes filled with disbelief.

Feng Yao lightly stroked the strings of his zither, gazing thoughtfully at the arena. "Even without the blessing of a divine weapon," he thought to himself, "Shrek Academy still holds its own against such a tactically limited opponent."

The Elephant Armor Sect's proud defensive formation ultimately revealed its fatal rigidity in the face of Tang San's exquisite control and the explosive power of the Netherworld White Tiger.

(End of this chapter)