Chapter Three: The Academy of Cultivators

Under the astonished gaze of the crowd, Yang Fan strode toward another area—the very place the staff had mentioned earlier, where those with the right qualifications were to queue. He joined the line, which was mercifully short, with only two people ahead of him. Soon, it was his turn.

Standing before a gate reminiscent of a security checkpoint, an imposing security guard awaited him. In the guard’s hand was a device much like a card reader. “Show your ID,” he barked in a coarse, grating voice that made Yang Fan wince inwardly. It wasn’t an insult, just an undeniable truth—the man’s voice sounded like rough sandpaper.

Yang Fan handed over his ID card. The guard swiped it, and Yang Fan’s details appeared on a small screen. Then, the guard stepped aside to let him through, and Yang Fan escaped the sound of that grinding voice with a sense of relief. As he left, he caught a glimpse of the young man with the donkey-brand backpack arriving—but Yang Fan didn’t linger, eager to avoid yet another encounter with the guard’s voice.

Navigating a twisting route through barriers, Yang Fan entered a spacious room. Inside, dozens of young men and women milled about—some whispering to one another, some seated at tables poring over documents, others standing in contemplative silence.

Just as Yang Fan was about to take a step, a voice called out, “Hello there.”

He turned and saw a poised young woman in a business suit standing not far away. “Are you calling me?” he asked, uncertain.

She laughed lightly. “Who else would I be calling? There’s no one else near you!”

Yang Fan flushed, his heart pounding. How embarrassing—to lose face in front of such a beautiful woman.

As Yang Fan’s thoughts threatened to spiral, the woman approached with a friendly smile. “Hello, I’m Han Wei, a staff member here. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me,” she said, introducing herself.

Yang Fan suddenly felt awkward and out of place. Although he’d interacted with girls before—having worked part-time jobs since entering society early—he’d never met anyone quite so stunning, so self-assured, and dressed so professionally.

Sensing his discomfort, Han Wei reached for his large backpack. Instinctively, Yang Fan tightened his grip. “I’ll carry it,” he insisted.

She smiled and didn’t press the matter. “Alright, follow me then.” With that, she led him deeper into the room.

Not long after Yang Fan left, the young man with the donkey-brand backpack entered. Unfortunately for him, Han Wei was already busy with Yang Fan, and the other staff members were similarly engaged. The young man stood awkwardly at the door, glancing around, yet no one came over to greet him, which only deepened his gloom.

Guided by Han Wei, Yang Fan sat down at a table. She stood beside him and asked, “Would you like something to drink? You must have been nervous outside—are you thirsty?”

At her words, Yang Fan suddenly realized he was parched. He managed a shy smile. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Han Wei’s smile bloomed. “You’re welcome. What would you like?”

“Anything’s fine—plain water is good,” he replied. With a graceful stride, Han Wei departed to fetch his drink.

Left alone, Yang Fan idly picked up a booklet from the table and began to read. It contained the admissions guidelines for various cultivation academies: Capital Cultivation Academy, Magic City Cultivation Academy, Frontier Cultivation Academy, Black Province Cultivation Academy, Hohhot Cultivation Academy, Sichuan Province Cultivation Academy, Suhang Cultivation Academy, and more. He flipped through briefly, noting that the book was full of standards and requirements for each academy. Before he could delve deeper, the screech of a chair dragging across the floor drew his attention.

Looking up, Yang Fan saw the donkey-brand youth sitting not far away. Their eyes met, and the young man’s expression soured. With a scowl, he shoved the chair back into place and grabbed his backpack, ready to leave.

“Hey, why are you running off? Do you enjoy making that much noise with the chair?” Yang Fan teased, his face full of mischief.

The young man hesitated, caught between leaving and staying, then seemed to steel himself, pulled the chair out again, and sat down with a thud. He shot Yang Fan a resentful glare, as if to say, “I’m not afraid of you! I’ll sit right here.”

Yang Fan chuckled and turned his attention back to the booklet.

A short while later, Han Wei returned with a cup of warm water, placing it before Yang Fan and breaking his concentration. She settled into the seat across from him.

“Put those materials aside. If you have any questions, just ask me directly. No need to flip through everything—it’s a waste of time,” she said with a smile, gently taking the booklet from his hands.

Yang Fan could only acquiesce—who could say no to such a beautiful woman?

“I don’t actually know much about these cultivation academies. Could you tell me more?” he asked.

Han Wei smiled, nodding. “Of course, listen carefully—there may be exam tips.”

“Huh?” Yang Fan frowned in confusion. Did he mishear, or was Han Wei joking?

She laughed softly. “I’m teasing. Listen up.”

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Yang Fan rubbed his nose and prepared to listen intently.

“There are seventy-two cultivation academies in China. Of these, the Capital Cultivation Academy is the most prestigious, followed by the Magic City Cultivation Academy. Then come the five elite schools: Frontier, Suhang, Sichuan Province, Black Province, and High Tibet. The remaining sixty-five academies are less renowned but still excellent, each with its own strengths. By the way, what’s your qualification level? I can recommend suitable academies based on that.” Han Wei spoke earnestly, her gaze fixed on Yang Fan.

Yang Fan was about to answer when suddenly the room erupted in excitement.

“Second class!”

“He said he’s second-class qualified!”

“He must be bragging.”

People stood up and craned their necks. As the commotion grew, even those at the edges of the room began to gather, all focused on a single point—not far from Yang Fan.

It was the donkey-brand youth. Gone was his earlier gloom; his face now radiated pride. Han Wei glanced over, her eyes showing a hint of surprise.

The young man addressed the staff member who had just come to assist him. “So, which academy would be best for someone with my qualification?”

The staff member was visibly shocked. After a moment, the shock turned to resignation. “Second-class qualification—wherever you want to go, really. Is there any point in asking?”

Yang Fan watched the scene, massaging his temples. “So dramatic,” he thought. “He knows I’m here and still wants to show off? Clearly, I didn’t put him in his place earlier.”

Then Yang Fan raised his voice, addressing Han Wei. “I’m first-class qualified!”

Han Wei’s surprise intensified; she turned to stare at Yang Fan. “What did you just say?”

Yang Fan nodded confidently, his gaze flicking to the now pale-faced donkey-brand youth. “I said, my cultivation qualification is first-class!”

A hush fell over the room, then an even greater uproar than before. The donkey-brand youth sprang to his feet, glared at Yang Fan, grabbed his backpack, and stormed out. Yang Fan could see tears in his eyes, a mix of humiliation and anger.

Han Wei whispered, “Are you really first-class qualified?”

Yang Fan smiled and nodded.

Disbelief spread across Han Wei’s beautiful features. Yang Fan felt a surge of satisfaction. This was the feeling—exhilarating!

The crowd swarmed around him, the noise reaching a fever pitch until security arrived to restore order. Han Wei led Yang Fan to a quieter spot.

She continued, “You’re actually first-class? I can hardly believe it. I’ve never met anyone with first-class qualification before! Here, let me touch you and see if you’re real!”

As she spoke, she suddenly reached out to touch his face. Yang Fan jumped in surprise, blushing furiously. Han Wei covered her mouth, laughing. “So even first-class talents can get shy!”

Yang Fan could only shake his head helplessly.

After the playful moment passed, Han Wei returned to the main topic. “With your qualification, there’s really no need to consider the other academies. First-class candidates rarely choose from the sixty-five lesser schools—they almost always go to Capital or Magic City. Even the five elite schools see few first-class applicants.”

Yang Fan nodded. With his level, his choices were actually quite limited—just those few top academies.

Seeing his agreement, Han Wei continued, “Let me focus on Capital and Magic City for you.”

“Capital Cultivation Academy is located in the nation’s capital, founded in 2008. It was the first academy dedicated to cultivating practitioners, with a strong faculty and known as the premier institution. It’s one of the top two academies in the country. The other is Magic City Cultivation Academy.

“Magic City Cultivation Academy was established in January 2009, making it one of the earliest such academies. Located in the country’s economic center, its faculty is just as strong as Capital’s. It’s also called the top academy!”

Yang Fan was puzzled. “Why do both claim to be the top academy?”

Han Wei explained, “The two were founded less than a month apart, and their strengths are nearly identical—number and quality of instructors, overall reputation. Capital was established first, so it’s justified in calling itself number one. But Magic City is said to be even stronger, with a principal ranked higher than Capital’s, hence its own claim to the title. There are many opinions on the matter, but no one denies that both are extremely powerful.”

Yang Fan and Han Wei continued their discussion, delving deep into the details.

An hour later, Yang Fan rose and thanked Han Wei, who smiled warmly, though her eyes betrayed a hint of reluctance.

“Thank you, Miss Han. I’ve learned everything I need. It’s time for me to go,” Yang Fan said, feeling a strange reluctance as he gazed at her. What young man wouldn’t harbor feelings at a time like this?

Han Wei nodded and walked him to the door.

“Um... how about we exchange contact information?” Han Wei asked, her cheeks tinged with red.

Yang Fan turned, looking flustered. “Sorry, I don’t have a phone.”

Han Wei’s face fell. In this day and age, not having a phone—was he joking? If you want to refuse someone, at least think of a better excuse! But then again, with a first-class talent like him, he could have any girl he wanted; perhaps she was just being naïve.

Still, she smiled and replied, “It’s alright. Take care, then.”

Yang Fan nodded, feeling a bit downhearted. He really didn’t have a phone—he had to support himself, working odd jobs under eighteen, barely making enough for daily expenses, let alone a phone.

With a heavy heart, Yang Fan pushed open the door and left the Cultivation Academy.