Feng Zikang did not rush to summon his master from seclusion; instead, he meditated for three full days, stabilizing his cultivation before finally ringing the Transmission Gold Bell.

Ye Tiansheng, deep within a meditative retreat where his six senses were sealed, could only receive external messages through the Transmission Gold Bell, which connected to a sliver of his divine sense.

The bell emitted three successive, clear, melodious chimes before shattering into dust.

Feng Zikang brewed fresh tea and stood guard by the stone cave entrance, quietly awaiting his master's emergence.

A glimmer of silver light shone from within the cave, accompanied by the faint sound of wind and thunder. As the melodious ringing ceased, Ye Tiansheng’s voice, filled with pleasant surprise, echoed out.

"Good disciple! You have actually broken through to the fourth layer of Qi Introduction?"

Ye Tiansheng burst from the cave, clad in white robes. Perhaps unused to sunlight, his appearance was somewhat haggard, but his eyes were brimming with astonishment.

"Master!"

Feng Zikang greeted him respectfully, helped him to sit down on the floor, and presented the tea.

Ye Tiansheng sipped the fresh brew, nodding slightly, scrutinizing his apprentice from head to toe, his affection growing the longer he looked.

Feng Zikang was now a fourteen-year-old youth, a half-head taller than a year ago, his features more defined. Furthermore, due to his dedicated study of the Dao, his eyes held a mature composure, though his gaze remained as resolute as ever. This bearing was the finest characteristic of a successor from the Little Bamboo Grove lineage.

"Good, good!"

Ye Tiansheng smiled broadly, his praise for his disciple seemingly confined to that single, perfect word.

"Go back, purify yourself with bathing and fasting. Three days hence, I will await you at the Heart Questioning Terrace!"

Though he was his favored disciple, the matter of inquiring into the Dao was profoundly solemn; all procedures had to be strictly observed. Fasting and bathing, calming the heart, only atop the Heart Questioning Terrace as the morning sun rose was the proper moment to examine a disciple's Dao heart.

Three days later.

The first blush of dawn broke, the sun ascending, the morning breeze washing over him. Feng Zikang sat cross-legged atop the Heart Questioning Terrace, waiting silently. On one side of the terrace lay the magnificent rivers and mountains, a picturesque landscape; on the other side was the desolate site of the ancient Songling Battlefield, where, even after a thousand years, the aura of slaughter still surged, manifesting as a blood-red miasma visible from the summit.

His heart was as still as an ancient well, all distracting thoughts reined in by the Demon Seed, rendered as minuscule as mustard seeds, utterly undetectable.

All the world's **passions, loves, and hatreds, were temporarily irrelevant to him; only a clean, bright heart bent on contention remained.

To contend with Heaven, to contend with Earth, to contend with men.

To fight his way onto the arduous path of immortal cultivation, to carve out a clear and boundless world!

Through the ethereal mist, Ye Tiansheng's figure gradually materialized. He stepped upon a streak of silver light, observing his disciple from afar, his expression grave, yet tinged with joy.

"In cultivation, what is the objective?"

This was the essential question every disciple, regardless of sect or school, had to face upon reaching this stage. You have cultivated within our sect for a period and achieved some small success. Now, tell me, what is the ultimate purpose of your cultivation?

This query probed the disciple’s ambition and breadth of spirit. It could be simple, or it could be incredibly difficult.

Simple, because there existed standard answers. For Daoist disciples, the goal was eternal life and freedom; Buddhist followers aimed to save all sentient beings; Legalists sought to establish worldly order; Yin-Yang practitioners desired balance in all things. As for the School of War, naturally, it was to seize the momentum of Heaven, Earth, and Man, to conquer and achieve ultimate invincibility!

Difficult, because it required adhering to one's true heart, honestly questioning the inner depths, articulating that core aspiration, and dedicating one's entire life to pursuing it—this was by no means a simple feat!

Feng Zikang closed his eyes in deep contemplation, remaining silent for a long while, unwilling to rush his reply.

Ye Tiansheng was not impatient either. He stood suspended in the air, looking up at the heavens, the mountain wind whipping his white robes with a sharp sound.

"This disciple cultivates the Dao, solely for victory!"

After a prolonged silence, Feng Zikang suddenly snapped his eyes open, twin beams of sharp light flashing within them. "To conquer all that is unconquerable! Why should the stars, the cycle of life and death—I only seek that with a single blade, the cosmos itself shall turn upside down!"

He recalled General Lu’s strike that cleaved open the Heavenly Tribulation, a blow launched from the Ninth Heaven; no matter how potent the divine lightning, it was ultimately defeated by his hand! But, that was still not enough! General Lu defeated Heaven, Earth, and Man, yet ultimately failed to conquer himself, ending in utter ruin. The essence of my School of War doctrine is that one must not lose; one can only win!

A slight smile touched Ye Tiansheng’s lips. Every disciple might utter such words, but for his precious apprentice to speak with such resolute finality, vibrating with a subtle resonance with the surrounding cosmos—that was extraordinary.

"By what means do you seek the Dao?"

Good. Now that your goal is set, what method will you employ to seek the Dao?

"To shatter the cauldrons and sink the boats, to exhaust my intellect, to advance fiercely and relentlessly, even facing nine deaths without regret!"

This time, Feng Zikang’s answer was instantaneous, bursting forth as soon as Ye Tiansheng finished his question. To cut off all retreat, to utilize all my wisdom, to cultivate with ferocious drive, even if I must face death countless times, I shall have no regrets!

"If the Dao proves unattainable, then what?"

The path of cultivation is long and treacherous; what will you do if you fail to achieve the Dao?

"Better to be shattered jade than intact tile!"

Feng Zikang replied without hesitation. If he could not attain the Dao... he had never considered that outcome. It wasn't just the pride and vengeance of his Formless Heavenly Demon nature that prevented him from living a life as insignificant as an ant; even simply as a disciple of the School of War, having stepped onto this irreversible road, there was no reason to stop halfway! If the Dao is not achieved, then better to break like jade!

"Foolish child..."

Ye Tiansheng sighed, a faint smile on his face. He descended from the clouds and stood before Feng Zikang, gently stroking his hair. "From this day forward, I shall transmit to you the Little Bamboo Grove lineage's 'Method of Strategy and Calculation for Decisive Victories a Thousand Miles Away.' The path of the School of War is fraught with unparalleled difficulties, but seeing your inherent nature, I am greatly pleased. Only remember this: what is too rigid is easily broken. Though those of us in the School of War rely on the unyielding spirit in our chests, allowing us to traverse the great world freely, you must always maintain a heart of leniency, capable of advancing or retreating with ease, yielding when necessary. If you can achieve this, I shall be truly at ease!"

"Thank you, Master!"

Feng Zikang was overjoyed, bowing deeply to express his gratitude. Ye Tiansheng helped him up and clapped him encouragingly on the shoulder.

"Return to the Little Bamboo Grove first. I must report this matter to Elder Yun Yi at the Merit Hall on Sunset Peak."

Only after a disciple passed the Heart Questioning trial could they approach the Merit Hall to claim missions, accumulate merits, and exchange them for various magical artifacts, wonders, and divine techniques within the sect.

Feng Zikang agreed, summoning his Soul Bone Sword, and turned to descend the mountain. In his master's presence, he naturally had no need to conceal his methods, especially since Liang Si'an was now dead; even if someone knew he had killed the Ghost God General, they would not trouble him.

"This Soul Bone Sword does not align with our School of War arts. Wait for my return, and I shall gift you a magical weapon suited for you!"

Ye Tiansheng watched his disciple depart with a smile, then turned toward the clouds with pride. "Zhu Yuan, what do you think? My disciple’s disposition is quite fine, is it not?"