He had lost.
Chrysanthemum Douluo had no choice but to activate his Martial Soul True Body in the face of Yunchuan's summoned lightning storm. And by doing so, he conceded defeat.
According to the rules of the trial, pushing his opponent to use any of their final three soul skills was considered a pass—no need to last the full thirty minutes.
Clearly, this had been Yunchuan's goal from the start. He never planned to endure a battle of attrition or go blow for blow against a Titled Douluo. His whole strategy had been to use the surrounding environment to prepare a devastating final strike.
"Mom, I passed the test, didn't I?"
Yunchuan turned to Bibi Dong, her flawless face now darkened as black as soot—a side effect of her prized elder being turned into a human lightning rod. But the boy didn't seem to notice the irritation simmering below her perfect smile.
"You're not going to go back on your word, right?" he asked, eyes bright with mischief.
"…Of course not."
Bibi Dong forced a gracious smile, but the subtle pressure around her was like a cold wave. Faced with her fury, Chrysanthemum Douluo instinctively shivered. A moment ago, he had been a nine-ringed Titled Douluo. Now, he was quieter than a mouse.
…
The Next Day.
Outside the massive gates of Spirit Hall.
Yunchuan stood ready to depart, saying his goodbyes to Bibi Dong and Hu Liena.
"Here, wear this soul device."
Bibi Dong handed him a translucent mask that shimmered faintly like a crystal veil.
Yunchuan took it curiously. "What's it for?"
"Put it on and see," Bibi Dong replied mysteriously.
Hu Liena's bright eyes sparkled with anticipation as he raised the mask to his face. Following their instructions, he gently fixed it in place.
A cool sensation spread across his skin—it didn't feel stuffy or restrictive at all. If anything, it was comfortable and breathable. He could still sense the mask's presence, but it was so natural it became almost unnoticeable a moment later.
The moment he finished, both women smiled in visible relief. Satisfied, Hu Liena handed him a bronze mirror.
"Take a look."
Yunchuan took the mirror and immediately knew what they'd done.
Gone was the face that turned heads in every crowd. Gone was the unforgettably handsome, almost divine visage that had come to define the Holy Son of Spirit Hall. In its place—
A perfectly ordinary face.
Plain features, wood-toned expression. Common. Utterly unremarkable.
Only… his eyes.
Deep, dark, and strangely magnetic—they refused to be hidden. Even behind the camouflage, they still seemed to glow, speaking volumes that the face could not.
'Sigh… some things just can't be concealed,' Yunchuan thought, brushing a bit of imaginary dust from his sleeve. 'Even this mask that can disguise everything still can't hide one's inner brilliance.'
Even average-looking now, those eyes alone gave him charisma levels that would make most still take a second glance.
But compared to his real face, well—it was the difference between a noble god and your charming next-door neighbor.
Bibi Dong and Hu Liena exhaled in obvious relief.
Their reasons differed.
Bibi Dong was primarily worried about security. With Yunchuan's rising fame, too many rival factions would love nothing more than to take him out—or worse, capture him, soul and all.
Hu Liena had… other concerns.
Mainly, that with a face like that wandering freely, he'd come back from his journey with a pack of women clinging to him like moths to a flame.
"From this moment on, your name is no longer Yunchuan. Forget your title. Forget your identity."
Bibi Dong fixed her eyes on him.
"Out there, you are not the Holy Son of Spirit Hall."
She mulled it over for a moment, then added:
"You'll go by the name—Tang Chuan."
"Tang Chuan?" Yunchuan raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure if she was teasing him… or hinting at something else.
After all, technically speaking, that really was his original surname.
But before he could ask more, she gently cut the conversation short.
He turned to the two most important women in his life.
"…Mom. Nana. I'm going."
With that, he gave them one final smile—pure, bright, brave.
Then turned around.
And walked forward.
His first step as an independent soul master.
Far behind him, the Pope stood still, her gaze quietly fixed on his receding figure. The longer she watched, the deeper the emptiness grew in her chest. It felt as if, with this step, he would never return.
Beside her, Hu Liena clutched her own arms, watching that same back with wide, unreadable eyes.
'Come back soon… okay?' she thought. 'I'll be waiting.'
…
"Flesh Becoming Saint"—The body as origin, creation as destiny.
This powerful cultivation art, which sounded utterly divine when summarized, took the form of a single rune—humble and silent—residing within the core of Yunchuan's soul.
For the past six years, it had served as his silent teacher, giving him guidance only at the critical moments—
When it would further his growth.
And now?
He had reached a bottleneck.
His physical body, honed through years of brutal training, had hit its limit. Ordinary methods held no more effect. Progress had plateaued.
Yunchuan had then remembered—soul bones.
Fusing with a soul bone was known to instantly boost physical constitution.
After mentioning this to Bibi Dong, she had gifted him a precious 60,000-year strength-type soul bone without hesitation. Strong and rare, it was perfect for reinforcing his physical foundation.
But when Yunchuan tried to fuse it?
Trouble.
The rune in his brow reacted instantly. Rejected it.
Vehemently.
Refused to let the foreign energy merge with his body—no matter how he tried.
To the rune, the soul bone felt like a contaminant.
It wouldn't allow Yunchuan's body to be polluted.
He believed it.
After all, the rune had always led him down the correct path. It had never failed before. If it deemed something incompatible... then it probably was.
Maybe soul bones weren't for him.
It didn't matter.
This rune, which originated from the "High Tier" section of the Wheel of Fates—the one he'd drawn so miraculously back then—was likely one of the least eye-catching prizes among astral-level systems and Divine Fruits of the Saints.
But it was still from the top bracket.
That alone meant its origins were extraordinary.
So, upon realizing his physical training had reached its natural limit—and that traditional methods no longer worked—Yunchuan came to one conclusion:
He had to go out.
Explore the world.
Seek opportunities among the unknown.
Staying locked behind castle walls would never take him any closer to that future—that destiny foretold by the Saint-Bearing Flesh—
The body itself becoming a world.
(End of Chapter)