Hao Yuan's gaze toward Lin Yu changed.

If before he was merely looking at a "remnant" left behind by an old friend, now he was looking at a true "successor of the Shen family."

"Do you still remember how to use it?" Hao Yuan pressed on, a hint of barely concealed urgency in his voice.

Lin Yu did not answer immediately this time.

This question was a trap.

If he said, "I remember how to use it," what if the other party asked him to set up a high-level killing formation on the spot? With his current level of soul power, he couldn't even muster a basic fireball spell.

He weighed his words carefully, his tone carrying a trace of genuine helplessness and bitterness:

"I can draw it. I know in my head how it should flow and how it should change."

"But I can only draw the simplest ones using soul power."

Lin Yu looked at his own translucent palm and let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Anything slightly more complex... even just a Spirit Gathering Array... my soul body can't handle it. I'd fall apart halfway through drawing it."

Hao Yuan nodded slightly. The urgency in his eyes dissipated, replaced by understanding.

The soul body was severely damaged. Even if the memories remained, it could no longer mobilize the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. That was the price.

Reasonable.

The pressure in the surroundings seemed to ease slightly with Hao Yuan's nod.

"Since you've remembered so much..."

Hao Yuan withdrew his gaze, looking back at Lin Yu, and asked a question that seemed casual yet struck straight at the heart:

"Why not teach that child?"

This question was quite sharp.

Since you are a Shen family successor, since you want to rely on this child to reshape your physical body or pass on the mantle, why only teach him the surface? Why let him study that crude *True Meaning of Basic Rune Deconstruction* instead of directly imparting the Shen family's profound formation techniques?

Lin Yu was momentarily stunned, as if organizing his thoughts.

But he quickly stopped and looked back at the motionless youth behind him.

He let out a sigh.

This sigh was three parts acting and seven parts genuine.

"I did teach him."

Lin Yu spoke, his voice very soft. "Over the past few years, everything I could teach, I taught him."

Hao Yuan narrowed his eyes slightly. "Only taught him a portion?"

Lin Yu nodded. "Mm."

"Why?"

"First, a tall building rises from the ground. If the bricks aren't even properly fired, if the foundation hasn't been firmly laid, and I just build the tower on top, that's not teaching him—that's harming him."

"The tower will collapse."

Lin Yu's voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear.

This was from his heart. As a transmigrator, he understood that the importance of foundational knowledge far outweighed high-level applications. He didn't want to turn Su Ming into someone who could only memorize formulas without understanding the principles behind them.

Hao Yuan said nothing, simply listening quietly.

Lin Yu paused, then continued:

"Second, I just remembered all this myself."

"My own mind is still foggy. I haven't sorted out the logic in my head yet—how can I teach anyone?"

He spread his hands, his soul body making a helpless gesture. "What if I teach it wrong? In the path of formations, a slight error leads to a vast deviation. One wrong step, and it's a blown-up cauldron, a destroyed formation, dead people."

"I don't dare gamble."

This was Lin Yu's philosophy of the Way of Survival. Without a hundred percent certainty, he would never casually impart core values.

"Third..."

Lin Yu's voice dropped, carrying a scholar's particular rigor and humility. "I'm not sure... whether these things popping into my head... are even right."

"After all, these are things from a very long time ago. How far has the path of formations developed in today's immortal cultivation world? What have the rules become? I have no idea."

"Using the sword of a former dynasty to behead the officials of the current one—that's just asking for death."

"So, I wanted to wait until he was more stable. Let him broaden his own path first, develop his own ability to discern. Then I'll bring out these old antiques and let him pick and choose for himself."

"That's what's truly good for him."

Truthfully, as a transmigrator, he really didn't know how much his "own understanding" differed from the "orthodoxy of this world."

After finishing this in one breath, Lin Yu felt as if his soul body had become even more ethereal.

But to Hao Yuan's ears, these words carried a completely different weight.

Silence.

Hao Yuan looked at Lin Yu, and the scrutinizing gleam in his eyes finally dissipated completely.

He understood.

This remnant soul wasn't being secretive or holding out for a better price.

He was using the most clumsy, the slowest, yet the safest method to protect that youth.

No rushing for quick success, no forcing growth.

He even hesitated to impart knowledge for fear his memories might be flawed—how cautious was that? And how responsible?

This was true "mastery."

"You..."

Hao Yuan looked at Lin Yu for a long time. A trace of warmth appeared on his aged face.

"You taught him well."

Four simple words.

But they were like an order of amnesty, finally allowing Lin Yu's heart, which had been in his throat, to settle back down.

Lin Yu said nothing. He simply lowered his eyelids slightly, adopting a posture of humility. But inside, he was screaming wildly: I made it! I finally made it! My reading comprehension is a perfect score!

Hao Yuan turned around and looked toward the distant rolling sea of clouds.

At that moment, the east was growing light. A glimmer of dawn pierced through the thick clouds, casting its light on Gazing Star Cliff, covering the old man, the soul, and the youth in a faint, golden edge.

"Xinghe used to say the same thing back then."

Hao Yuan suddenly spoke, his voice very soft, as if speaking to the wind, or muttering to himself.

"She said teaching disciples was like raising flowers. You can't rush, you can't force it. Slower, steadier, let the roots grow deeper—that's more important than anything."

"She said that if one day she was no longer around, she hoped her successor would be someone who walked steadily, not someone who ran fast."

Lin Yu's soul body trembled violently.

This time, it wasn't an act.

He could hear the thick, almost palpable nostalgia and sorrow in the tone of this Unity realm powerhouse.

That name—Xinghe. Shen Xinghe.

So this was the Shen family old friend that Sect Leader Yun Miao had mentioned, the one with whom Haoyuan Zhenjun had an "old promise."

Lin Yu remained silent, not responding. At times like this, any words were unnecessary, any comfort was futile. He only needed to be a quiet listener, a "legacy" of an old friend.