The faculty dormitory of Notting Junior Soul Master Academy was located behind the teaching building, a small three-story structure. Mo Bai's room was at the easternmost end of the second floor, with windows facing the academy's main road and the playground.
It was six in the morning, and the sky was just beginning to brighten.
Mo Bai had been standing by the window for two full hours. He wore a plain white shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows, holding a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. Outside, several groundskeepers were sweeping fallen leaves; the shua—shua— sound was exceptionally clear in the silent morning.
His gaze was as calm as still water.
Two years.
In this small city, at this lowest-tier Soul Master academy, he had lived for two whole years as "Teacher Mo Bai." A twenty-nine-year-old Soul King would be considered a talent in any major city, yet he was content to stay here, teaching children who weren't even Soul Masters yet how to read, do math, and perform basic soul power sensing.
No one had ever suspected him.
His resume was spotless—hailing from a minor noble family, possessing good but not top-tier talent, with a gentle personality and a love for education. The dean had even sighed privately, saying that a good man like Teacher Mo Bai was truly wasted in Notting City.
Mo Bai took a sip of the cold tea.
A bitter taste spread across the tip of his tongue.
Wasted?
No.
He was waiting.
Waiting for a specific point in time, for a specific person to appear. Or rather, waiting for a specific soul beast to take human form.
The sky outside gradually brightened. The sound of horse-drawn carriages came from the distant city gate; a new day had begun. Today was the opening day of Notting Academy, and a group of six-year-old children would arrive to test their soul power and determine if they could stay.
Mo Bai set down his teacup and walked to his desk.
A notebook lay open on the desk, its pages already somewhat yellowed. On it, recorded in extremely neat handwriting, were various data and deductions—
"Anomalous activity records of the Star Dou Great Forest core area... Spring of the year 2637 of the Heaven Dou Calendar, the aura of a hundred-thousand-year soul beast briefly leaked... Estimated transformation time... Entrance into human society at around six years of age..."
"Analysis of Soft-Bone Rabbit habits... Inferred personality traits after transformation... Sensitive, alert, extremely perceptive of threats..."
"Third refinement record of the Concealment Soul Skill... Now capable of completely masking the aura fluctuations of a hundred-thousand-year soul beast in its early transformation stage... Test subject: Three-hundred-year Wind Wolf (simulation results met standards)..."
Mo Bai's fingers brushed over those words.
Every night for the past two years, he had been perfecting these preparations. The "Deep Induction" ability granted by his fifth soul ring, combined with the "Absolute Concealment" of his fourth soul ring, formed the core of his plan.
But it wasn't enough.
Simple hypnotic control was too boring.
Manipulating someone like a puppet, watching them perform stiff movements under command—he had seen enough of that before he crossed over. Those so-called "hypnosis masters" could, at most, make people lose consciousness and perform simple reactions.
He didn't want something so superficial.
What he wanted was a reshaping starting from the depths of the soul.
A directional distortion beginning from the very source of power—the soul ring.
"Soul rings..." Mo Bai murmured to himself, his fingertips lightly tapping the paper. "The core power of every Soul Master... and the foundation of their self-identity. If even this foundation is reshaped into a form that serves desire..."
The corner of his mouth curled into an extremely faint arc.
That would be a truly perfect work of art.
Not a puppet.
A living, thinking being possessing great power, yet molded from the very root into an exclusive—vessel.
Commotion drifted in from outside.
Mo Bai closed the notebook and walked to the wardrobe. He selected a light grey robe made of soft material and well-tailored; it wasn't too formal, nor did it look casual. He tidied his hair in front of the mirror—his black short hair was combed neatly, with a few strands of bangs falling naturally over his forehead.
The man in the mirror had a face that could be called handsome.
His features were regular, his eyes gentle, his nose bridge high, and the lines of his lips naturally carried a hint of an upward curve, making it look like he was smiling even when he wasn't. This was the facial expression he had adjusted bit by bit during his two years of life under disguise.
It wasn't a disguise.
It was micro-expression control.
It was the rhythm of breathing.
It was the depth of the gaze.
It was the relaxation level of every muscle.
He had practiced countless times. In the silence of the night, facing the mirror, he adjusted the angle of his smile over and over until that smile looked sincere, warm, and completely non-threatening. He practiced his tone of voice, his gait, and the strength in his fingertips when reaching for objects.
The current "Teacher Mo Bai" was already a perfect persona.
Gentle.
Patient.
Trustworthy.
He pushed open the door and walked down the stairs.
In the first-floor hall, several teachers were eating breakfast. Teacher Li, who taught Martial Soul Theory—a man in his forties—looked up and saw Mo Bai, immediately waving: "Mo Bai, come quickly! Freshly steamed buns today, meat filling!"
"Thank you, Teacher Li." Mo Bai walked over and sat at the table.
He picked up a bun and broke it open; the steaming aroma of meat drifted out. He took a small bite, chewed slowly, and then revealed a satisfied smile: "Truly fragrant. Chef Wang's skills are getting better and better."
"Isn't that the truth!" Teacher Sun, who taught history, was a woman in her fifties. She said with a smile, "Mo Bai, school starts today. Are you still leading the freshman class this year?"
Mo Bai nodded: "That's how the Dean arranged it."
"Aiyai, you have a good temper and patience; leading the freshmen suits you best," Teacher Sun remarked. "Those kids have just left home and are all tears and cries; only you can coax them."
Teacher Li interjected: "I heard a few talented kids are coming this year. Mo Bai, you'd better pay attention."
Mo Bai nodded with a smile: "I will."
His heart remained unmoved.
Tang San.
That name had appeared in his notes many times. Twin Martial Souls, Innate Full Soul Power—the man who would become the Sea God and the Asura God in the future. But now, he was just a six-year-old child.
Mo Bai had no interest in Tang San.
Or rather, he had no interest in any male character.
His goal was clear—those beautiful, powerful female Soul Masters who would blossom in the future. And the first one, also the easiest one to get his hands on, was that hundred-thousand-year soul beast transformed into a Soft-Bone Rabbit.
Xiao Wu.