In the evening, Yan Hu returned carrying an 80-year-old Ironback Bear, his face beaming with joy.
This spirit beast had been hunted down together with two other Soul Masters from the village, and the materials he received were enough to cover the family’s expenses for half a year.
“Qing’er! A’zu! Look what your father hunted today!” He laughed heartily as he laid out the bear’s gallbladder, paws, and other parts in the courtyard.
However, Yan Zu noticed a deep, bone-exposing claw wound on his father’s arm.
Although it had been roughly bandaged, blood was still seeping through.
“Dad, you’re hurt?” He ran over, his small face filled with worry.
Yan Hu waved it off casually.
“Just a minor injury, nothing serious. The Ironback Bear lashed out as it was dying and scratched me.”
Hunting spirit beasts was like this—there was always the risk of injury or even death.
Yan Zu was still far too weak to be of much help to the family.
He could only hope that future sign-in rewards would provide something more immediately useful.
Time passed day by day, and before long, another month had gone by.
That morning, Yan Zu woke up as usual and immediately recited silently in his heart, “Sign in.”
[Ding! Monthly sign-in successful!]
[Reward obtained: “Nine Yin Manual · Diamond Chapter”]
[Reward description: A cultivation technique specially modified for Power Attack Type Martial Souls. It can optimize soul power circulation efficiency and enhance physical strength and defense.]
A flicker of delight flashed in Yan Zu’s eyes.
This technique had come at just the right time.
He remembered that last month, when Yan Hu was hunting the Ironback Bear, his arm had been slashed open with a deep, bone-exposing wound.
Although it was bandaged promptly, the scar still ached faintly to this day.
If he could improve his father’s physical strength, it would greatly reduce the likelihood of such injuries.
Yan Zu firmly memorized the contents of the “Nine Yin Manual · Diamond Chapter” and began planning how to reasonably teach this technique to his father, just as he had done with his mother.
Unlike Su Qing’s meticulous and cautious nature, Yan Hu was straightforward and bold.
He might not fully accept something as mysterious and fantastical as a “dream encounter.” To make him believe and practice it, Yan Zu needed to present something more tangible and convincing.
“I have to let Dad see the effects for himself,” Yan Zu thought to himself.
In the afternoon, the sunlight was just right.
Yan Hu walked into the courtyard carrying two plump wild hares, his burly figure resembling a moving hill.
He tossed the prey onto the ground, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and was about to call Su Qing to prepare a feast for dinner when he looked down and saw his son squatting on the ground, gesturing at a bluestone slab.
“A’zu, what are you doing?” Yan Hu leaned in, peering curiously.
Yan Zu looked up, his small face serious.
“Dad, I’m practicing the fist technique White-Bearded Grandpa taught me. It’s called the ‘Indestructible Diamond Art.'”
“Indestructible… Diamond?” Yan Hu scratched his head, thinking the name sounded like something from a street performance.
He looked down at his son—a little bean sprout of a child, his arms and legs not even as thick as Yan Hu’s own arm, squatting there like a round, plump dumpling.
This little guy, “Indestructible Diamond”?
Yan Hu struggled to hold back his laughter, putting on a serious expression with his stubble-covered face.
“Oh? What happens if you master it?”
“You become really tough and won’t be afraid of getting hit.” Yan Zu stood up, assuming a starting stance.
His short little legs spread slightly apart, his small fists clenched and raised in front of his chest, trying his best to strike a “Vajra’s Wrathful Gaze” pose—but his chubby baby face held little intimidation, making him look more like a puffed-up kitten.
Yan Hu couldn’t hold it in this time and burst out laughing with a “pfft.”
“Dad!” Yan Zu grew anxious.
“Don’t laugh, it’s real!”
“Alright, alright, real, real.” Yan Hu quickly waved his hands, but the corners of his mouth were twitching uncontrollably.
He crouched down to meet his son’s eye level and patted the boy’s head with his large, fan-like hand.
“A’zu, dear, practicing martial arts is good, but we have to start from the basics, like horse stance…”
Before he could finish, Yan Zu suddenly reached out with his short little arm and gave him a light push on the shoulder.
“Thump, thump, thump—”
Yan Hu felt a clever force transmit through, his footing unsteady as he landed on his rear, kicking up a cloud of dust.
He froze.
Yan Zu also froze, quickly running over.
“Dad! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to!”
Yan Hu sat on the ground, staring blankly at his son, then at where he was sitting, and finally at his son’s short little arms.
“A’zu, you… where did you get that strength?”
Yan Zu scratched his head, a bit embarrassed.
“It’s… it’s just the fist technique White-Bearded Grandpa taught me. I saw your center of gravity was off just now, so I just…”
“Just pushed me over?” Yan Hu’s eyes widened, his face full of disbelief.
He, a twenty-sixth-level Battle Soul Master, was knocked over by a push from his three-year-old son?
Su Qing heard the commotion and came out of the house.
Seeing Yan Hu sitting on the ground, she paused for a moment before bursting into laughter.
“Oh my, dear, are you acting as a sparring partner for our son?”
Yan Hu’s face flushed red.
He hurriedly scrambled up, dusted off his pants, and coughed awkwardly.
“Well… I just lost my balance.”
Yan Zu timidly added from the side, “Dad, your center of gravity really was leaning back when you crouched…”
“Cough, cough, cough!” Yan Hu coughed even harder.
Su Qing laughed heartily, walking over to ruffle her son’s hair.
“A’zu is amazing, able to push your dad over.”
Yan Hu couldn’t accept this.
“That doesn’t count! I wasn’t prepared! A’zu, come on, let’s have a proper match!”
“Don’t be silly, he’s just a child,” Su Qing chided, giving him a reproachful look.
“Just a try, just a try!” Yan Hu grew excited.
He crouched down again, this time properly assuming a horse stance, his palms extended flat.
“A’zu, use that Vajra Indestructible Technique of yours and try hitting Dad with a palm strike.”
Yan Zu glanced at his mother.
Su Qing shook her head helplessly, signaling for him to go ahead.
Yan Zu took a deep breath, assumed the starting stance again, pushed off with his short little legs, and landed a soft, fluffy punch on Yan Hu’s chest.
“…”
Yan Hu didn’t budge an inch, only feeling as if a marshmallow had tapped his chest.
He looked down at his son’s hopeful eyes and suddenly felt that his earlier fall had been utterly humiliating.
“Well… A’zu,” Yan Hu carefully chose his words, “this fist technique of yours might need a chant to unleash its power. Try reciting the chant?”
“Slogan?” Yan Zu was taken aback.
He did remember a few mantras in the Vajra Scripture, but those were all for guiding the flow of soul power.
Where did a slogan come from?
“Exactly! Look at Soul Masters fighting—don’t they all shout slogans?” Yan Hu spoke nonsense with a straight face.
“Things like ‘Motherly Entanglement’ or ‘Farting Like Thunder, Earth-Shattering Luo Sanpao’—you have to shout it out to have momentum!” (Tang San: You have already earned the path to death!)
Yan Zu: “…”
He suddenly felt that his father might be…
a bit more simple-minded than he had imagined.
“Then… should I shout it?” Yan Zu tentatively asked.
“Shout!”
Yan Zu took a deep breath, his little face flushed red as he mustered all his strength to shout: “Vajra… Indestructible!”
His voice was childish and lacked vigor, and the last word “indestructible” even cracked.
Yan Hu burst out laughing this time, clutching his stomach as he squatted on the ground, shaking with laughter: “Hahahaha! A’zu, you… your slogan is so full of momentum, hahahaha!”
Yan Zu stomped his feet in anger: “Dad!”
Su Qing, standing nearby, laughed until tears streamed down her face, leaning against the doorframe to keep from sliding to the ground.
After laughing enough, Yan Hu finally caught his breath, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes.
“Alright, alright, I won’t laugh anymore. A’zu, your fist technique is quite interesting. Teach your dad, won’t you?”
Yan Zu blinked.
“Dad, you want to learn?”
“Learn!” Yan Hu patted his chest.
“Your dad is the best fighter in our village. Shouldn’t I learn some new skills?”
Su Qing leisurely added from the side: “That ‘best’ is just picking a general from among the dwarfs.”
Yan Hu: “…Wife, save me some face.”
Yan Zu pursed his lips and smiled, then said seriously, “Then, Dad, please sit down. I’ll teach you.”
Yan Hu obediently sat cross-legged, his burly figure like a small mountain squatting in the yard.
Yan Zu walked up to him, cleared his throat, and began to impart the introductory mantra of the Vajra Scripture.
“White-Bearded Grandpa said this technique is called the ‘Vajra Indestructible Art.’ It cultivates the path of ultimate hardness and yang. Breathing should be short and forceful, and it must be coordinated with specific muscle vibrations…”
Yan Hu listened attentively and nodded.
“Understood. It’s inhale—exert force—roar!”
“…” Yan Zu’s little face stiffened.
“Dad, it’s not roaring…”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s breathing! Not shouting slogans!”
“Oh, oh, oh, alright, alright. Continue.”
Yan Zu patiently finished explaining the mantra, and Yan Hu began to try as instructed.
The first time, he held his breath too long, his face turning red, nearly passing out from suffocation.
The second time, his breathing rhythm became disordered, causing him to gasp for air as he clutched his stomach and groaned.
Yan Zu facepalmed, suddenly understanding the saying, “The master leads you in, but cultivation depends on the individual”—but the problem was, this “individual” was too hard to guide!
From that day on, Yan Zu practiced the Vajra Scripture every morning and late at night.
In just half a month, he felt his physical strength had improved by more than one level.
The muscle soreness he used to experience after using soul skills had now mostly disappeared.
Even his Iron Axe Martial Soul had become more solid.
Su Qing watched all of this, her doubts growing deeper.
“Husband, don’t you think A’zu has had too many ‘unexpected encounters’?” One night, she couldn’t help but say to her husband.
“Too many?” Yan Hu waved his hand carelessly.
“This just means our son is blessed with great fortune!”
“But…” Su Qing hesitated, “Even Spirit Hall doesn’t have those breathing techniques…”
“So what?” Yan Hu interrupted her.
“Our son has his own destiny. As his parents, we just need to support him.”
Su Qing fell silent for a moment, then said softly, “You’re right. As long as A’zu is safe and sound, nothing else matters.”