Early the next morning, as dawn barely broke and a faint mist gently enveloped the Yang family’s training grounds.
Yang Chang’an let out a long yawn, lightly rubbed the corners of his eyes, then washed his face hard with cold water to clear away the haze in his mind, before finally walking toward the training grounds.
At the center of the training field, a tall and upright figure had already been standing there for quite some time.
Yang Wushuang stood with his hands behind his back.
Today he was dressed in a dark grey training outfit, his white hair tied back with a simple headband.
Hearing the sound of footsteps, Yang Wushuang turned around and looked at Yang Chang’an.
Seeing faint dark circles under his eyes, he could not help but laugh.
“What is it?
Didn’t get enough sleep?” “No!” Yang Chang’an quickly straightened his spine, shaking his head with force.
“It’s just that after awakening my Martial Soul yesterday, I was too excited.
I only fell asleep in the middle of the night after tossing and turning.” He was telling the truth.
If not for the fact that his habit of getting up early to practice spear techniques over the past six years had already been carved into his bones, he would have probably stayed buried in bed for quite a while today.
Hearing this, Yang Wushuang nodded in understanding.
Not to mention a child like Yang Chang’an—even an adult would likely be too excited to sleep after yesterday’s events.
“Cultivation requires balance between tension and relaxation.
You’re still young, so sufficient sleep is the foundation.” Yang Wushuang’s tone softened as his gaze swept across his slightly tired face.
“Why not go back and catch some more sleep?
Spear techniques aren’t something that must be rushed for a moment or two.” “No need!” Yang Chang’an immediately refused without even thinking.
“Grandfather, I’m already used to waking up early.
I won’t be able to fall asleep even if I go back now.
Let’s just start quickly!” Seeing the light flashing in his grandson’s eyes, Yang Wushuang’s heart stirred slightly, the heaviness between his brows fading a little, before his expression suddenly turned solemn and his aura became sharply more intense.
“Since you’ve made up your mind, I won’t say more.” Yang Wushuang said in a deep voice, “Today, I will officially teach you the inherited absolute art of our Breaking Clan—’Soul Breaking Spear Technique’!” The moment his voice fell, Yang Wushuang lightly raised his right hand, and a dense black glow suddenly burst from his palm.
Along with a clear humming sound, a Soul Breaking Spear, twice as long as the one Yang Chang’an possessed, instantly appeared in his hand.
The spear body was entirely pitch black, its spear tip as sharp as frost.
At the same time, two yellow, two purple, and three black Spirit Rings rose slowly from beneath his feet, radiating a terrifying pressure.
Level 78 Spirit Saint!
This was Yang Wushuang.
Even after that great battle five years ago, when his spirit had been shattered and he had lost his drive for cultivation, his strength had remained at the peak of the Spirit Saint level all these years.
Even so, this level of strength placed him among the top experts across the entire Douluo Continent.
Moreover, the Soul Breaking Spear Martial Soul was renowned for its extreme offensive power—within the same Spirit Saint level, Yang Wushuang was nearly invincible!
All of this had been told to Yang Chang’an in passing conversations by Yang Quji and Yang Xue.
According to them, five years ago, Yang Wushuang had been full of vigor, possessing strength enough to directly contend with ordinary Spirit Douluo.
If not for that great battle that shattered his will, he would likely have already broken through his bottleneck and become a true Spirit Douluo by now.
As a transmigrator familiar with the original novel, Yang Chang’an understood better than anyone how terrifying the Soul Breaking Spear was, and also understood the regrets of Yang Wushuang and Yang Wudi, the two prodigies of the Breaking Clan.
In the original story, even Yang Wudi, who had not yet lost his spirit, was eventually burdened by clan affairs.
Fifteen years later, his cultivation had only reached level 82 Spirit Douluo, placing him at the bottom among the clan leaders of the four single-attribute clans.
One great war had broken the sharp edge of the Breaking Clan and cut off the future of two geniuses.
Thinking of this, Yang Chang’an could not help but feel a trace of regret.
“Chang’an, focus your mind!” A sharp shout pulled Yang Chang’an back from his thoughts.
He quickly steadied himself, cleared all distractions, and fixed his gaze tightly on the Soul Breaking Spear in Yang Wushuang’s hand.
He saw Yang Wushuang standing with his spear, Spirit Power slowly surging around him before converging entirely toward the spear tip.
The originally pitch-black spear tip now faintly shimmered with a strand of silver light.
Even the air seemed to be torn apart by this sharp aura, emitting faint hissing sounds.
“The Soul Breaking Spear Technique does not seek complex forms, nor overwhelming Spirit Power.
It seeks only one thing—condensing all Spirit Power into a single point at the spear tip, using point to break surface, pursuing ultimate penetration power!” As Yang Wushuang’s voice had not yet faded, he stomped heavily on the ground.
The blue stone slabs instantly cracked into several fine lines, and his entire body transformed into a black shadow as he lunged forward with his spear.
“First Form: Piercing Wind!” The spear tip swept horizontally, carrying with it a howling gust of force.
This move appeared simple at first glance, yet it brought the application of Spirit Power to its absolute limit.
The wind it generated was like a blade, scraping against the plants around the training field and making them rustle violently.
“Second Form: Chasing Clouds!” The spear thrust forward in an instant, so fast it reached the extreme, leaving behind only a faint afterimage.
The air was compressed in an instant, producing a dull explosive boom.
Yang Wushuang’s movements were not flashy.
Each technique was broken down with extreme clarity, yet every strike carried an unyielding ferocity, as though the moment the spear was released, it would demand blood in the next instant.
The gusts stirred up by the spear forced Yang Chang’an to keep stepping back repeatedly.
He had no choice but to raise a hand to shield his face, the flesh on his cheeks trembling slightly, his eyes barely able to remain fully open.
Even so, he still stared fixedly at Yang Wushuang’s movements, his eyes filled with longing.
The spear is the king of all weapons.
In this world of extraordinary power, this kind of cold-weapon romance was something no boy could ever refuse.
Every single movement Yang Wushuang made was observed with extreme care by Yang Chang’an, who etched every detail of the motions and every circulation of Spirit Power deeply into his mind.
But as he watched, his brows gradually furrowed.
For some reason, he felt that something was missing in Yang Wushuang’s spear technique.
The movements were clearly as smooth as flowing water, yet that unyielding, forward-driving momentum always carried a hint of disharmony, as if something was restraining it, preventing it from being fully unleashed.
“Is it because my realm is too low to understand it?” Yang Chang’an silently thought to himself, then shook his head and forced the thought away.
Yang Wushuang was a Level 78 Spirit Saint.
His understanding of the Soul Breaking Spear was far beyond what a novice who had just awakened his Martial Soul could compare to.
It must simply be that his own level was too low to grasp the essence of this spear technique.
After a moment, Yang Wushuang retracted his spear and stood still.
The seven Spirit Rings slowly faded away, and the sharp aura around him dissipated along with it.
“Did you see clearly?” Yang Wushuang asked, his tone returning to calm.
“I’ve memorized it,” Yang Chang’an replied with a firm nod, his voice carrying a trace of confidence.
Ever since transmigrating to this world, he had awakened the photographic memory he had once dreamed of in his previous life, and it was precisely this ability that had allowed him to quickly master the basic spear techniques over the past six years.
Moreover, the moves Yang Wushuang had demonstrated were only the foundational forms of the Soul Breaking Spear technique.
Although exquisite, they were not complicated, so with his memory, he was naturally able to commit them all to mind.
Hearing this, a faint smile finally appeared on Yang Wushuang’s lips, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.
“Good, come, give it a try.” “Yes!” Yang Chang’an responded.
Taking a deep breath, he flicked his right palm, and a flash of black light appeared as his Soul Breaking Spear instantly manifested in his hand.
He stepped into the center of the training field, steadied his mind, recalled Yang Wushuang’s movements from before, and slowly raised his spear.
“Piercing Wind!” With a low shout, Yang Chang’an swept his spear horizontally.
Spirit Power surged along his arm into the spear and converged toward the tip.
However, his Spirit Power was too weak; the spear only stirred up a faint gust of wind, a world apart from Yang Wushuang’s overwhelming momentum.
“Sink your wrist a bit more.
Don’t release your Spirit Power too hastily—first circulate it once through the spear shaft before guiding it to the tip!” Yang Wushuang’s voice came at just the right moment as he stepped forward and lightly corrected Yang Chang’an’s posture.
“Chasing Clouds!” Yang Chang’an thrust his spear again, adjusting his movements according to Yang Wushuang’s guidance.
This time, the Spirit Power at the spear tip became noticeably more condensed, and the thrust was slightly faster as well.
“Not bad, you’ve improved,” Yang Wushuang nodded, patiently continuing his instruction.
“Unite waist and stance.
When you strike with the spear, you must borrow the strength of your waist; only then will the spear’s momentum be steadier and more powerful.” Yang Chang’an trained while listening to Yang Wushuang’s guidance, constantly adjusting his movements.
Although his techniques were still clumsy and his Spirit Power somewhat lacking, he learned extremely quickly.
With every attempt, his improvement was clearly visible.
On the other side of the training field, Yang Quji and Yang Xue stood side by side, their gazes fixed on the grandfather and grandson in the center.
Watching Yang Chang’an’s awkward yet earnest spear practice, Yang Xue frowned deeply, her eyes filled with concern.
“Uncle, ever since what happened to Second Brother back then, the Soul Breaking Spear has lost its original edge.
It no longer carries that unyielding momentum.
Is it really okay to let him teach Chang’an?” Yang Quji stroked his goatee, his gaze remaining indifferent as he looked toward the field, his expression complex and hard to read.
After a brief silence, he spoke slowly.
“If he doesn’t teach him, then who will?
Our understanding of the Soul Breaking Spear is far inferior to Wushuang’s.
As for the others in the clan, there’s even less to say.” “As for momentum…” Yang Quji paused slightly, his gaze falling on Yang Chang’an.
“That is something forged in real combat, not something that can be taught.
When Chang’an grows a little older, when he sees more, kills more, that unyielding momentum will naturally emerge.” “But…” Yang Xue tried to say something more, only for it to dissolve into a helpless sigh in the end.
“It can only be this way.
I just hope Chang’an won’t be influenced by Second Brother and can walk his own path.”