"Grandpa, this is my form after fusing with the beast spirit."
Zhu Wu couldn't see himself, so he didn't pay much attention to the external changes. What truly drew his attention was the knowledge that instinctively appeared in his mind after fusing with his spirit—it was quite surprising.
With no further hesitation, he was eager to try it out.
"Grandpa, watch carefully!"
"I'm transforming!" As he activated his soul power, his body flashed with purple light. Suddenly, he felt a powerful suction force around him. In the next moment, he found himself in a strange space, his entire body wrapped in a multicolored glow.
He raised his hand—it was a claw.
He had transformed into a Three-Eyed Demon Fox.
"So, the reason I can take on a beast form is because of the spatial attribute of my spirit?"
Though all he could see was the fox's perspective of the outside world, through internal focus, he clearly sensed that he was inside a special space.
He could also see six independent internal spaces within his belly—six glowing orbs, each less than a meter in diameter, containing various items he had previously stored. The last orb held a cloudy, murky fog.
He understood—that fog was the leftover herbal waste and gases from Xiaobai's internal space.
He could sense that he could release it at will—though it would have to come out as flatulence.
It was quite indecent and potentially harmful by accident, so he decided not to demonstrate it in front of his grandfather.
"Grandpa, look! I turned into a little fox!"
Coming back to himself, he ran toward Zhu Gang as he spoke.
He jumped lightly and landed on Zhu Gang's lap. Because his true body was in the special space, he had no real weight—only the perfect form of a Three-Eyed Demon Fox.
A perfect replica!
"This…" Zhu Gang was utterly astonished. He subconsciously reached out to touch it—cool to the touch, the fur soft and smooth.
"Xiao Wu, did you really turn into a little fox?"
"Of course not. This is a simulated form created through a soul skill. It only looks exactly like the real thing."
The fox, now Zhu Wu, spoke in a human voice.
"Soul Masters really are capable of miracles," Zhu Gang couldn't help but sigh.
"But Grandpa, that's not all."
Zhu Wu raised his fox head proudly, jumped off Zhu Gang's lap, and landed on the ground.
He looked at Zhu Gang, and instantly an image of him surfaced in Zhu Wu's mind. With a thought, the image scattered, and white light burst from his body.
In the next second, a perfect replica of Zhu Gang stood where Zhu Wu had been.
"This!" The real Zhu Gang was shocked.
Then the duplicate shimmered and faded, revealing a slightly pale Zhu Wu.
"Grandpa, the larger the transformation, the more soul power it consumes. Right now, I can only maintain it briefly," Zhu Wu explained helplessly.
"It's okay. That will improve with time," Zhu Gang smiled, reassuring him.
No matter how extraordinary Zhu Wu became, he was still his grandson—not some kind of monster.
"Mm-hmm." Zhu Wu nodded. "Grandpa, I'm going to meditate and restore my soul power."
With that, he sat to one side and began his breathing exercises.
Some time later, after recovering, Zhu Wu summoned Xiaobai again and activated the Spirit Fusion. He carefully tried to comprehend the Charm and Clone skills.
But he found nothing to grasp. While in the fused state, all it took was to channel soul power into a soul ring and silently call the skill's name. His eyes would suddenly heat up, and the charm skill would activate. However, if he exited the fused state or separated from Xiaobai, the sensation disappeared.
"As expected, it's not that simple," he thought to himself.
"But that makes sense. If it were easy, all beast spirit users on the continent would've developed their own soul skills by now."
"I must say, this world's cultivation system is truly unique. After absorbing soul rings, they bind to the spirit, not the person. And soul skills are bound to the soul rings, which follow the rings themselves."
Through reflection, Zhu Wu finally understood the relationship between soul masters, soul rings, and soul skills.
"So, when Xiaobai leaves my body, it's like taking the soul rings and skills with him."
"Which means I can only command Xiaobai to use the skills—I can't trigger them myself, because the rings aren't on me."
"But when I'm fused with the spirit, the soul rings are on me."
"Therefore, if I want to fully master the abilities Xiaobai inherited from the Three-Eyed Demon Fox, I need to study the soul rings more deeply."
"A magical world!" That was all Zhu Wu could say.
"For now, the only way forward is to keep practicing and comprehending."
With a sigh, he sat down again to restore soul power, ready to continue experimenting.
Zhu Gang had watched the entire process, his eyes full of pride. With such diligence, he was convinced his grandson would go far.
The night passed without incident.
The next morning, Zhu Wu rose early, lit the fire, made porridge, and practiced movements under the sunrise to aid his Vajra Art training. He then helped Zhu Gang out of bed for breakfast, later guiding him to the lounge chair, and resumed his spirit testing.
The same went for the afternoon—until the medicine shop delivered herbs, and he began decocting them for Zhu Gang.
In the evening, he continued refining his soul abilities in Zhu Gang's presence. Only after the elder had gone to bed did Zhu Wu begin training the Longevity Art.
In the following days, he remained completely dedicated, staying by his grandfather's side with care.
Zhu Gang, having his grandson with him every day, was happy to witness his steady progress. Smiles became a regular sight on his face.
Time flew, and three months later, the New Year arrived.
Winter deepened, and despite Zhu Wu's efforts to keep the house warm, the cold inevitably began to affect Zhu Gang's health. Not long after winter began, the old man lost the ability to move and could only rest in a chair by the fire.
Zhu Wu handled all his food, clothing, and care.
"Sigh…"
Old Jack, visiting to pay respects for the New Year, was visibly affected by Zhu Gang's frail state. Thinking of his own age, he couldn't help but feel sympathy. Looking at Zhu Wu's quiet dedication beside his grandfather, his heart filled with both pity and admiration.
He also thought about Tang San, who, after returning to the village, hadn't come to visit Zhu Wu—his former classmate, who had even gifted him medicinal seeds. Nor had he visited Zhu Gang. Remembering that Tang San had once stolen medicine from Zhu Wu, Jack's heart stirred with disapproval.
He wanted to tell Zhu Wu the truth—but remembering that Tang San was a soul master, and always accompanied by another soul master girl, he suppressed the thought.
If Zhu Wu pursued the matter, Jack worried he'd be beaten.
People say, "a beast in human skin."
After knowing that Tang San had stolen something, Jack began to doubt his once-gentle demeanor. After all, Tang Hao's temper was infamous. Who knew if the son took after the father?
If trying to reason only brought harm, Jack felt it would do Zhu Wu more harm than good.
Besides, as his son Jerry once said—conflicts between soul masters were beyond the reach of ordinary folks like them.
Shaking his head, he gave a brief farewell and left with his son after delivering gifts.
But Zhu Gang wouldn't live to see spring.
Just a few days after the New Year, he passed away peacefully, sitting in his chair by the fire, gazing at the meditating Zhu Wu with satisfaction. When his eyes grew tired, he gently closed them—and never woke up again.
"Sigh… Xiao Wu, don't be too sad. Old Zhu left with a smile. He had no regrets."
Two days later, at the funeral, Old Jack patted Zhu Wu's shoulder and sighed in comfort.
"My condolences," Tang San said flatly.
Xiao Wu said nothing, standing silently by, seemingly uncomfortable with the scene.
Many villagers looked at Tang San and Xiao Wu with less-than-friendly expressions.
"Thank you," Zhu Wu forced a thin smile and gave a brief reply.
The funeral was simple and quickly concluded. Instead of a traditional burial, Zhu Wu chose cremation. One day, when he reached the pinnacle of this world, he planned to place his grandfather's ashes in the most sacred place of all.
Grandfather never had the chance to become a soul master—but he would ensure the soul master world would never forget him.
He had been a good grandson in life; he would remain one after death.
At noon, tables were set in the courtyard. Every household in Saint Soul Village attended—except for Tang San and Xiao Wu.
As for why, Zhu Wu didn't know, but he could feel the villagers were distancing themselves from Tang San.
After the meal, the villagers said their goodbyes. A few kind women stayed behind to help clean. By the time everything was tidy, it was already afternoon. Zhu Wu thanked everyone, then went alone to kneel by Zhu Gang's grave.
He stayed there until dusk.
As twilight fell and no one was around, Zhu Wu finally spoke softly.
"Grandpa, when I first came to this world…"
He began to recount his past and the burdens he carried in his heart.
"Grandpa, do you know? To avoid suspicion, I always acted like a child in front of adults—and the same with other kids. But I knew… only with you, could I truly be a child."
"Eventually, I even started to believe I was a real child. Life was hard, but that childhood… was a happy one."
"To be honest, at first, I feared I'd go insane from pretending."
"Thankfully, I didn't."
"Because with you here, I could be a child in peace—just like in my past life."
"Sometimes, I really feared offending Tang San. I feared death. I feared you might get hurt because of me. I feared dying and leaving you alone—unattended and without company."
"That would be the greatest unfilial act."
"But now… I think, I don't have to be afraid anymore."
"…Yet you're gone."
With that, he fell silent again.
As the cold night settled in, wind blew over the mountainside graveyard, tousling Zhu Wu's hair.
He knelt there quietly, embracing the chill, the stillness.
Until, in the darkness, an orange light glowed and a voice called out.
"Xiao Wu, I knew you'd be here."
It was Jerry, Old Jack's son, his voice mixed with approaching footsteps.
"Come now, Xiao Wu, time to go back."
Reaching his side, Jerry sighed, "It's cold—you'll catch something if you stay out too long."
"Your grandfather wouldn't want to see you hurt because of him."
Zhu Wu took a deep breath, turned his head, and forced a smile. "Thank you, Uncle Jerry."
"Let's go home."
"Here, let me help you."
Jerry smiled back and quickly reached out to steady Zhu Wu, who had been kneeling for too long.
The two of them walked slowly through the night wind, descending the hill together.
By lantern light, Jerry occasionally glanced at Zhu Wu's face, worried he might be overwhelmed by grief. But after a few looks, he realized he'd worried too much.
Zhu Wu's expression was calm—like a still, clear lake. Compared to the funeral, he was like a different person.
It's good he's moved on.
With nothing more to say, Jerry steadied him, raised the lantern, and continued their walk toward the warm lights at the foot of the mountain.
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(End of chapter)
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