Months melted into each other, marked by the rhythmic cycle of training, cultivation, and the subtle growth of the herbs in Song Qing's ceramic pots. He diligently used the Verdant Embrace ability of his Primordial Life Tree Spirit, focusing on specific herbs each day, accelerating their growth and inching them closer to the mythical 100,000-year mark. He knew it was a long-term endeavor, a silent project unfolding in the privacy of his chambers.
'One day,' he often thought, gazing at the vibrant green leaves, 'I'll have a garden filled with Immortal Herbs. The possibilities will be endless.' He wasn't in a rush; time was on his side, and he knew his own growing strength would only enhance his spirit's abilities.
His daily spars with Hu Liena became a cherished routine. Now that he possessed the power to easily defeat her, he consciously held back, ensuring their matches remained challenging but not demoralizing for his senior sister. He carefully orchestrated their fights, making them appear close, allowing Hu Liena to push her limits and gradually improve her skills.
"You're getting stronger, Senior Sister," he would say after a particularly intense spar where she had managed to land a few solid hits. "Your control over your charm and illusions is improving remarkably."
Hu Liena would beam at his praise, her confidence visibly boosted. "Really, Little Qing? You think so?"
"Definitely," he would affirm, a genuine smile on his face. He enjoyed their interactions, the playful banter and the comfortable camaraderie they shared.
Bibi Dong continued her regular visits, her teachings becoming more advanced and nuanced. She pushed Song Qing to think strategically, to anticipate his opponents' moves, and to utilize the full potential of his diverse skill set.
Soon enough, the date arrived for Song Qing's seventh birthday. Bibi Dong, with the full resources of the Spirit Hall at her disposal, organized a grand celebration. The main hall was lavishly decorated, filled with fragrant flowers and shimmering lights. Many of the Spirit Hall's high-ranking officials and talented disciples were in attendance, eager to celebrate the birthday of their esteemed Holy Son.
Bibi Dong presented Song Qing with her gift – a set of exquisitely crafted Spiritual Defensive Tools. There was a bracelet that could absorb and redirect spiritual attacks, a pendant that enhanced mental fortitude, and a set of inner armor woven with rare spirit beast silk that offered formidable physical protection.
"These will help safeguard you, Qing'er," she said, her gaze filled with a rare tenderness. "May they protect you from any harm."
Hu Liena's gift was a set of beautifully tailored spiritual clothes. The fabric was made from a unique material that possessed the ability to grow and adapt as Song Qing's body developed, ensuring they would always fit him perfectly. The clothes were also imbued with subtle spiritual properties that enhanced his comfort and helped regulate his body temperature.
"Happy birthday, Little Qing!" Hu Liena said, her eyes sparkling. "I wanted to give you something that would last and always remind you of me." She playfully winked.
Later in the day, a Spirit Hall deacon from Heaven Dou City arrived with a gift for Song Qing. It was from Dugu Yan – a beautifully crafted jade flute. The flute was no ordinary instrument; it was a spiritual tool that, when played, could emit soothing melodies that calmed the mind or sharp, piercing notes that could disrupt an opponent's focus.
Bibi Dong raised a delicate eyebrow when she heard the name of the sender. "Dugu Yan?" she murmured to herself. She instructed one of her attendants to discreetly investigate the identity of this individual. The report came back swiftly: Dugu Yan was the granddaughter of the Poison Douluo, Dugu Bo.
Bibi Dong's eyes narrowed slightly. She wondered how her young disciple had formed a connection with the notoriously reclusive Poison Douluo and his family. It was a connection she was unaware of, and it piqued her curiosity.
She summoned Song Qing to her private hall later that evening, her expression gentle but inquisitive. "Qing'er," she began, her voice soft, "I noticed you received a gift from someone named Dugu Yan. Do you know her?"
Song Qing let out a small, carefully crafted sigh, as if recalling a pleasant memory. "Yes, Teacher," he replied, his tone innocent. "It was a few months ago, when I was returning to the orphanage after my initial training period. I happened to encounter Senior Dugu Bo and his granddaughter, Dugu Yan, near the Sunset Forest. We… had a bit of an interaction."
He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Because of my identity as your disciple, Teacher, and the Holy Son of the Spirit Hall, they were… very respectful and didn't dare to cause me any trouble. In fact, Sister Yan and I became quite good friends during our brief meeting. We exchanged contact information, and we've been exchanging letters occasionally ever since. That must be why she sent me a birthday gift." He hoped his explanation sounded plausible enough. He had deliberately omitted the part about healing their family and his second spirit.
Bibi Dong listened intently, her gaze unwavering. Song Qing's explanation sounded reasonable, given his status. It wasn't entirely surprising that others would be cautious and even friendly towards the Pope's personal disciple.
"I see," she said slowly, her expression softening. "It is good that you are making friends, Qing'er. Just be cautious of those you trust. Not everyone has good intentions."
"I understand, Teacher," Song Qing replied earnestly. He was relieved that his impromptu explanation seemed to have satisfied her curiosity, at least for now. He knew he would have to be more careful in the future about revealing his connections outside the Spirit Hall. But for now, he could enjoy his birthday and the thoughtful gifts he had received.
~~
The months that followed Song Qing's seventh birthday were peaceful and filled with continued growth. His bond with Bibi Dong deepened, marked by her increasingly affectionate demeanor and her unwavering dedication to his training. He felt a genuine connection with her, a warmth that transcended their teacher-disciple relationship.
As their relationship blossomed, Song Qing felt the time was right to execute his next subtle plan. He wanted to sow a seed of doubt and perhaps even resentment in Bibi Dong's heart towards Yu Xiaogang, the man who had once held a significant place in her life.
One afternoon, feigning a scholarly interest, Song Qing headed to the Spirit Hall's extensive library. He knew that a copy of Yu Xiaogang's infamous "Ten Core Competitiveness Theories" was likely to be present, given its widespread circulation, albeit with varying degrees of ridicule among true scholars. He also recalled from his memories that the Spirit Hall possessed an ancient archive containing knowledge dating back millennia. It was there that he hoped to find the original source of Yu Xiaogang's supposed theories.
After a diligent search, guided by some helpful senior librarians, Song Qing located a worn leather-bound volume tucked away in a dusty corner of the ancient archives. Its title, inscribed in faded golden lettering, read: "The Compendium of Fundamental Spirit Master Principles." This, he surmised, was likely the ancient text from which Yu Xiaogang had so shamelessly borrowed.
With both books in hand, Song Qing hurried to Bibi Dong's chambers, his small face set in an expression of righteous indignation, carefully crafted to appear endearingly childish.
"Teacher! Teacher! Look what I found!" he exclaimed, bursting into her study, his voice filled with mock outrage. He held up both books, the modern-looking "Ten Core Competitiveness Theories" and the ancient "Compendium."
Bibi Dong looked up, a gentle smile on her face at his enthusiastic entrance. "What is it, Qing'er? What have you found that has you so worked up?"
Song Qing puffed out his cheeks, looking utterly scandalized. "Teacher, this… this person named Yu Xiaogang! He's a thief! A complete and utter copycat!" He thrust both books onto her desk, pointing at Yu Xiaogang's work with a dramatic flourish.
Bibi Dong's smile faltered slightly as she recognized the title of the more recent book. A complex mix of emotions flickered across her face – a hint of longing, a touch of sadness, and a deep-seated resentment. She picked up Yu Xiaogang's book, her fingers tracing the familiar title.
"Where did you find this, Qing'er?" she asked, her voice softer than usual, tinged with a wistful quality.
"In the library, Teacher," Song Qing replied, his voice still laced with childish anger. "Look!" He grabbed the ancient "Compendium" and opened it to a well-preserved page, then flipped open Yu Xiaogang's book to a corresponding section. "He copied it! Almost word for word! This ancient book from our own Spirit Hall was written ages ago, and this… this Yu Xiaogang just stole all the ideas and put his name on it!" Song Qing's eyes widened, his expression a picture of innocent outrage at such blatant intellectual theft.
Bibi Dong picked up the ancient text, her eyes scanning the elegant script. Then, she looked at Yu Xiaogang's book, comparing the passages side by side. Her initial longing gave way to a stunned silence. The similarities were undeniable, the plagiarism blatant. The core tenets of Yu Xiaogang's lauded theories were indeed present in the much older text, nearly verbatim.
A sigh escaped her lips, a sound heavy with a mixture of disappointment and perhaps a strange sense of vindication. "Indeed, Qing'er," she said slowly, placing both books back on the desk. "It seems you have uncovered a rather… unsavory truth."
Song Qing watched her, his childish anger slowly fading as he saw the shift in her demeanor. "So, he really did copy it, Teacher? I knew it! It just didn't seem right that someone so… ordinary could come up with such profound ideas." He made sure to inject a touch of childish disdain into his voice.
Bibi Dong nodded, her gaze distant. "It appears so." She let out another sigh, a deeper one this time. "But Qing'er," she said, looking at him with a hint of weariness, "this is an old matter. It does not concern us now. Let this… Yu Xiaogang have his fleeting moment of perceived brilliance. It ultimately means nothing."
Song Qing naturally dropped the subject, feigning a return to his usual cheerful demeanor. "Alright, Teacher. If you say so. But it just seemed so unfair that he was taking credit for something that was already ours!"
However, he couldn't shake off the lingering sadness he had seen in her eyes. As he turned to leave, he paused, a flicker of concern in his gaze. "Teacher," he asked softly, "are you alright? You seemed a little… sad when you saw that book." He tilted his head, his innocent expression designed to elicit a genuine response. "Did you… did you know this Yu Xiaogang?" He held his breath, waiting for her reaction.