Chapter Fifteen: The Legend of the Prodigy Girl

“All right, but Uncle Feng, what are you going there for? Ah, if it’s confidential, you don’t need to tell me.” Hearing Feng Guoqing’s words, Zhuang Xiaoyuan agreed immediately. She had planned to walk there anyway, not wanting to spend money on the bus since it wasn’t far—about a half-hour on foot. After agreeing, she asked the question without much thought, but quickly realized that if it was work-related, it might be a secret mission, something with confidentiality rules. After all, beyond South Street was the southern city wall, the frontline area. Every time the fiends attacked, it was always from the direction of the southern city wall.

“Heh, it’s nothing that requires secrecy, just a personal matter. I’m going for maintenance.” Smiling reassuringly so Xiaoyuan wouldn’t feel uneasy, Feng Guoqing raised his right hand and waved it lightly as he spoke.

Staring at Feng Guoqing’s right hand, which gleamed with a metallic sheen, Zhuang Xiaoyuan fell silent. She didn’t know what to say—after all, that right hand carried painful memories for Uncle Feng. Seeing his own hand, he might be thinking of his daughter again.

“You silly girl, don’t make that face. I’m fine now; it’s been years. Besides, you’re my ‘daughter’ now.” Seeing Xiaoyuan’s sudden gloom, Feng Guoqing reached out with his left hand and ruffled her hair until she looked annoyed and dissatisfied, then finally let go.

“I know, I know you’ve moved on. But I can’t be your daughter. I could never be as outstanding as Sister Xiaoxuan.” As she straightened her tousled hair, Xiaoyuan’s expression remained somewhat glum. It wasn’t the messed-up hair that bothered her, but the thought of Uncle Feng’s daughter—just thinking of her brought a sense of pressure. That woman truly was a legend.

The truth was, years ago Feng Guoqing had intended to adopt Zhuang Xiaoyuan. But after learning his story, she had thought it over and refused—not out of dislike or anything else, but simply because she felt unworthy, undeserving of being his daughter. Even back then, when she was full of confidence about her future, the thought of Uncle Feng’s daughter made her timid. That woman was a true prodigy. Sadly…

“You’re overthinking it. You are you, Xiaoxuan is Xiaoxuan. Don’t compare yourself to others. Besides, in my eyes, you’re not any less than Xiaoxuan.” A fleeting sadness flitted through Feng Guoqing’s eyes at the mention of his late daughter.

Feng Xiaoxuan, Feng Guoqing’s daughter, was indeed the most gifted Divine Armament Warrior in history. She began cultivating divine power and communing with her guardian spirit at the age of fifteen, immediately displaying extraordinary talent. She advanced to the Faith level in just one hour, broke through to the Prayer level in three days, and within a single week soared from lower Prayer up through the ranks, advancing straight to Descent.

After reaching Descent, her divine power continued to grow; within a month she reached the Grace level, and eight months later ascended to the Blessing level. Before the final battle, she became the youngest Fusion-level Divine Armament Warrior in human history. In only two years, from first encountering her guardian spirit at fifteen to becoming a legend by seventeen—a feat like that could make anyone feel inadequate.

If not for the urban retreat battle, where she alone held off four Fortress-level fiends and one Destruction-class evil god to cover the evacuation of civilians and the military—ultimately perishing alongside her foes—she might have become humanity’s first True God-level Divine Armament Warrior.

Her guardian spirit, too, was a supremely powerful Law-type, the Sun God, invincible beneath sunlight. It’s said her personality was gentle, brightening everyone around her like the sun itself. When news of her death broke, millions wept—humanity mourned as one. She was a legend made real.

To tell the truth, although his daughter’s achievements stood at the very pinnacle of humanity, Feng Guoqing sometimes thought that if she hadn’t been so exceptionally talented, perhaps their family could still be living happily together.

“Compared to Sister Xiaoxuan, I’m still far behind. At my age, she was already at the Grace level. I can’t match her at all. Still, I’ll try my hardest—I want to become strong like her. When that day comes, it’ll be my turn to protect you, Uncle Feng.” Ever since hearing about Feng Xiaoxuan, she had become Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s goal. Even after merging two sets of memories, that goal remained unshaken.

Perhaps it was because she had such a distant, lofty goal that Zhuang Xiaoyuan, with her meager potential, struggled so hard to reach her current level. The stories of Feng Xiaoxuan and Uncle Feng’s wish to adopt her spurred her forward, again and again, pushing her to strive ever harder.

“All right, having resolve is good, but know your limits. Don’t push yourself too hard. Get some rest tonight. Be at Garage One tomorrow morning at eight sharp. We’ll head to South Street together.” Without realizing it, they had reached the dormitory building. Feng Guoqing did not intend to go upstairs; after all, in this age, the formidable figure of the dorm supervisor had long since disappeared.

“Okay. You too, Uncle Feng—go home and rest early. Goodnight.” She waved him off, neither of them sentimental, each turning away. After all, they’d see each other again at eight the next morning.

Back in her room, after a brief rest, Zhuang Xiaoyuan grabbed her toiletries and went to the dorm bathhouse. Perhaps she’d scared Wen Hui that day, or maybe Wen Hui had realized she’d been teased, or perhaps it was just a coincidence that she had come late that day—in any case, for the past couple of days, Zhuang Xiaoyuan had the big bath all to herself and hadn’t run into her well-endowed deskmate again.

Soaking her whole body in the bath, only her head above the water and leaning against the edge, she gazed at the soft light overhead, feeling the changes in her divine power. Three days as head chef had made her divine power surge, but now, with the final day over, such rapid improvement was no longer possible.

She couldn’t help but feel a little helpless. Even more so because her current divine power was perched right at the peak of mid-Faith, just a hair’s breadth from advancing to high Faith. But even after the last warrior finished their meal and left, that final push had not come.

With a sigh, she resigned herself to grinding out that last sliver of divine power on her own. Her potential was still only at the lowest tier; after experiencing the exhilaration of rapid growth, her current cultivation speed felt painfully slow. Unless some stroke of fate brought her greater recognition, it would be a long time before she could reach the Prayer level.