Among everyone present, only Zhu Zhuqing appeared somewhat average.
A high-level martial soul, innate soul power at level seven, and already at level 27 at the age of eleven.
But compared to other ordinary geniuses, especially soul masters of similar age and talent, her progress could already be described as astonishing.
As for Ning Rongrong, with a flawed supreme martial soul, innate soul power of 9.5, and being a direct descendant of one of the upper three sects, she had only reached level 26.
As Nangong Lingyun introduced everyone, the atmosphere in the Phoenix Nest gradually quieted down.
Even Huo Wu and the others who were previously smiling proudly suddenly lost all their smugness.
After a few seconds, Ning Rongrong couldn't help but ask:
"Are you really twelve years old?"
"Of course. I just graduated from Notting Junior Soul Master Academy a little over a month ago."
"Doesn't the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Pagoda have an appraisal function? It should be easy for you to determine someone's age, right?"
"Also, my talent isn't that strong. Brother Yun is already close to level forty-eight."
Huh?
Not… not strong?
Ning Rongrong's mouth twitched hard, but then silence followed.
A strange sense of suffocation welled up in her chest, an emotion so stifling it begged for release—yet never quite broke the surface.
Level 48 at twelve years old.
This fact alone hit her like a sledgehammer. It made her wonder if the world had gone mad—or broken altogether.
Take the Continental Soul Master Tournament as a benchmark—the most prestigious and awe-inspiring stage in Douluo Continent. The age limit for participation was under twenty-five, drawing nearly all of the continent's most talented soul masters from sects and academies. And even then, not every tournament had a Soul King.
To be level 48 at twelve years old—by the time he was twenty-five, would he be a Soul Emperor or a Soul Saint?
Ning Rongrong felt tears coming.
As a true princess, she had always been able to vent whenever she felt wronged—anytime, anywhere, however she wanted.
But now, she stared blankly, unable to cry.
All she could murmur was:
"How is this possible?"
Nangong Lingyun spoke at just the right moment:
"Nothing is impossible. For average geniuses, their goal is to gain fame and recognition. They do everything they can to showcase their talents—"
"—because that earns the appreciation of academies, sects, empires, and other powers. It paves the way for a better future."
"But for top-tier geniuses, once they mature, they become pillars of power, masters of their own domains, looking down on all others."
"So their biggest concern is only one thing—whether their talent will arouse jealousy. That's why they go out of their way to hide it, often remaining unknown."
"By the standards of average geniuses, you're doing okay."
"No, that's not true! You're lying to me!"
"Father, Grandpa Sword, and Grandpa Bone all said I'm a genius!"
"They said I'm the only one who might break the limit of the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Pagoda. They said no one among support-type soul masters has greater potential than me!"
Ning Rongrong finally burst into tears.
Her nose sniffled, lips trembling and distorted, tears streaming down uncontrollably.
It was a pitiful sight.
The words "average genius" and "doing okay" hit harder than a nuke—aimed straight at the heart of her proudest identity.
But Nangong Lingyun curled his lips slightly, clearly pleased with his own rhetoric.
He continued:
"Want to hear a story?"
On the side, Xiao Wu was visibly startled and quickly stepped back a few paces, thinking: Brother Yun's about to do something evil again…
Ning Rongrong paused her crying:
"What story?"
"Long ago, there was a crown prince named Zou Ji."
"He stood at 1.9 meters tall, elegant and majestic, with outstanding looks. Even compared to me, he was about one-third as handsome."
"One morning, while looking in the mirror, he suddenly asked his wife:"
'Who's more handsome—me or Jiao Jun from the northern city?'
"Jiao Jun was the most famous pretty boy in the nation, a name known to everyone far and wide."
"But his wife didn't hesitate one bit:"
'Of course you're more handsome! Who's Jiao Jun compared to you?'
"Still feeling uncertain, Zou Ji asked his maid, his ministers, and even emissaries from rival states."
"All gave him the same answer: He was more handsome than Jiao Jun."
"Some even scolded Jiao Jun in front of him, calling him a fame-seeker who only relied on reputation, or accused him of being jealous of the prince's looks and kindness."
"It was as if Jiao Jun had committed a capital offense."
"So Zou Ji grew arrogant and smug, praising his own appearance to everyone he met."
"Until one day, he saw Jiao Jun in person—was utterly stunned, ashamed, and regretful."
"Because Jiao Jun's beauty was like a deity descending from heaven, completely inhuman—basically like me."
"He was obviously far superior, and anyone with eyes could tell."
"That evening, lying in bed, Zou Ji pondered the events and realized:"
"His wife praised him because of love."
"His maid praised him out of fear."
"His ministers praised him because they wanted favors."
"The foreign emissaries praised him to deceive and manipulate him."
"In a vast empire with millions of people, who didn't love him, fear him, seek favors, or try to deceive him?"
"Voices from others often have ulterior motives. Not being able to distinguish truth from flattery is the real path to ruin."
"Those foolish, inept, weak, or doomed rulers of the past likely never understood this—and thus ruined their nations and themselves, becoming eternal infamy."
"Later, Crown Prince Zou Ji became emperor and issued a decree:"
'Any official or citizen who dares to criticize me to my face shall receive the highest reward. Those who submit written advice will get a mid-level reward. And those who mock me publicly on the streets—so long as their words reach my ears—shall receive a lesser reward.'"
"From then on, ministers scrambled to offer honest criticism, his court was bustling with counsel, and a few years later, officials couldn't even find faults to report."
"The empire flourished, enemies submitted, and Zou Ji became a wise and respected ruler—admired by all, and a role model for future emperors."
This story, a classic essay, was once part of the official language curriculum.
Its moral was so profound that it could be called earth-shattering on first reading.
Everyone present was fully absorbed.
Ning Rongrong was stunned speechless—even forgetting to cry.
Grandpa Sword and Grandpa Bone had always spoiled her. Everyone else in the sect feared her temper. Only her father occasionally expressed concern.
Could it be…
Was she really just a loser?
By the time she snapped out of it, Nangong Lingyun was already walking away. His voice echoed behind him:
"Everyone gather in the Phoenix Nest at 7 PM tonight. We'll celebrate the official formation of the Kaiyuan Team."
(End of Chapter)