Wu Mao's words struck Bai Feng like a physical blow. A magical beast soul? Inside his son? Suppressing his cultivation? It was outlandish, yet it explained everything – the years of fruitless effort, the stalled progress despite Bai Yu's diligence. He looked at his son, truly seeing the underlying struggle, not just the lack of results.
"Suppressed... by a soul," Bai Feng repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "How? And more importantly, Alchemist Wu, what can be done?"
Wu Mao stroked his beard, his expression deeply serious. "The how is likely happenstance, Patriarch. Perhaps a powerful beast perished near the Young Master's place of birth, or even while he was in the womb. Its desperate soul-fragment found resonance and took refuge. As for what can be done..." He paused, meeting Bai Feng's intense gaze. "The scriptures mention only one perilous path. The suppressing soul must be awakened. Confronted."
He turned his gaze to Bai Yu, whose initial shock was morphing into a complex mix of dread and a dawning, desperate hope. "Young Master, this presence within you is dormant, passively inhibiting your Qi. To reclaim your meridians, to even have a chance at the martial path, this soul must be roused from its slumber. It requires an external catalyst – a powerful surge of Qi, carefully guided, to breach the barrier it has formed around itself."
Wu Mao looked back at the Patriarch. "Patriarch Bai, you must use your own profound Qi to carefully stimulate and awaken the soul sleeping within your son. Once awakened, it will become aware of its host. Then... then the true battle begins. A battle of wills, fought within the Young Master's own consciousness. The fight for dominance of the spiritual sea."
Bai Yu's expression hardened, chasing away the fear. Sixteen years of frustration, of pitying looks, of feeling like a failure in his father's shadow – it all coalesced into a single point of fierce resolve. A beast soul? It sounded insane, terrifying, but if confronting it was the only path, the only chance he had to seize control of his own destiny, to walk the martial way... then he would face it.
"Father," Bai Yu's voice was steady, cutting through the heavy silence. "Let's do it. Tomorrow."
Bai Feng looked at his son, seeing not the disappointing heir, but a young man willing to gamble everything on an insane, perilous chance. A flicker of pride sparked in the Grandmaster's eyes, quickly overshadowed by parental worry. He gave a single, sharp nod.
"So be it," Bai Feng declared, his voice regaining its authority. He turned to Wu Mao. "Alchemist Wu, your guidance is invaluable. Are there... aids? Preparations?"
"Indeed," Wu Mao nodded gravely. "The confrontation will tax the Young Master's spirit immensely. Soul-nourishing pills, elixirs that strengthen the consciousness – gather as many potent ones as you can procure. They won't win the battle for him, but they might give his spirit the resilience needed to endure."
"I understand," Bai Feng stated. "I will acquire the finest soul-nourishing resources available in Water Court City, whatever the cost. We proceed at dawn tomorrow."
The next day dawned clear and bright, but the atmosphere in the secluded courtyard behind the Patriarch's residence was anything but light. It was a simple space, walled for privacy, with only a few strategically placed stones and a single, ancient willow tree. Bai Yu sat cross-legged on a silk cushion in the center, clad in plain training clothes. Before him stood his father, Bai Feng, his expression unreadable but his stance radiating focused power. Wu Mao stood off to the side, observing intently, a small pouch of emergency stabilizing pills ready in his hand.
A small, jade box sat open beside Bai Yu, containing nearly a dozen lustrous, faintly glowing pills – the fruits of Bai Feng's overnight efforts. They emanated a cool, refreshing energy that soothed the mind just by proximity.
"Are you ready, son?" Bai Feng asked, his voice softer than usual.
Bai Yu met his father's eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded. "I am."
He picked up the pills one by one, swallowing them without hesitation. A cool, invigorating wave washed through his mind, sharpening his senses and steeling his nerves, though the underlying apprehension remained. He closed his eyes, focusing his intent inward, preparing for the unknown.
Bai Feng stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Bai Yu's back. He took a slow breath, and Bai Yu felt the familiar, overwhelming pressure of his father's Martial Grandmaster Qi, but this time it wasn't oppressive. It was controlled, precise, sinking into his body like warm water, guided with incredible skill along the pathways of his meridians.
The Qi flowed, searching, probing, bypassing the usual points of resistance where Bai Yu's own attempts always failed. It felt like his father was unlocking hidden doors within him. One long minute stretched into an eternity of focused silence, broken only by the rustling leaves of the willow tree.
Then, suddenly, it felt as though Bai Feng's Qi struck something immense, something ancient and deeply asleep. A tremor ran through Bai Yu's body. His vision plunged into absolute darkness, the sounds of the courtyard fading into a deafening silence.
Disorientation washed over him, followed by a slow return of awareness, but not to the courtyard. When Bai Yu opened his eyes, he wasn't in his physical body. He stood in a vast, empty expanse of swirling white mist, an endless, featureless world. A mindscape. His spiritual sea.
And before him... looming out of the mist, coiling like a living mountain range, was the source of his lifelong blockage. Scales like obsidian armor, shimmering with a faint, primal light. Eyes like molten gold, ancient beyond comprehension, radiating an intelligence that was both terrifying and majestic. Horns like jagged crowns pierced the ethereal mist. Its sheer presence warped the white space around it, pressing down on Bai Yu's nascent spirit with suffocating force.
"A Dragon," Bai Yu gasped, the word barely escaping his lips. The pressure was immense, instinctual, primal fear gripping him so tightly that his spiritual knees buckled, forcing him onto the ground of the mindscape. It wasn't just power; it was the weight of ages, the aura of a being that stood at the pinnacle of existence.
The colossal head lowered slightly, those molten eyes fixing on Bai Yu's kneeling form with an expression that mingled curiosity with utter contempt. A voice, ancient and resonant, echoed not in his ears but directly in his mind, shaking his very soul.
"A mere brat? You dare disturb my slumber? You dare challenge me within this fragile vessel?" The Dragon scoffed, the sound like grinding mountains. It drew itself up slightly, radiating an aura of absolute dominion. "Know your place, insect. I am Ao Tian! Last Sovereign of the Primal Genesis Dragon Tribe, most ancient and noble amongst the countless dragon clans!"
Bai Yu's mind raced, reeling from the revelation and the crushing pressure. Primal Genesis Dragon Tribe? Sovereign? I've never even heard of dragon tribes existing! Just myths and legends... The sheer scale of his problem crashed down on him. This wasn't just some powerful beast; it was royalty from a lineage potentially older than human civilization itself.
The pressure intensified, threatening to extinguish his consciousness. Shit, Bai Yu thought, teeth gritted so hard his jaw ached even in this spiritual form. Why a dragon? Why one like... like this? I can't win against it. How can anyone win against this? Despair began to claw at the edges of his resolve.