Chapter Sixty-Three: The Academy Has an Arena?

Yang Fan hesitated, unsure how to begin. Li Tian looked at Yang Fan’s conflicted expression and raised his hand for another slap.

“You brat, what are you dithering about? Is this how you handle tasks I assign you, always so indecisive?”

Yang Fan held his head, feeling aggrieved. Always resorting to violence—couldn’t he reason instead?

“What task is it? Please tell me,” Yang Fan said, his face full of grievance as he looked at Li Tian.

“It’s not a particularly difficult task. A few old fellows have taken on disciples over the past couple of years, each one more arrogant than the last. I just want you to teach them a lesson, nothing more.”

Li Tian’s tone was calm and indifferent as he spoke.

Yang Fan paused, then asked, “Teacher, how many are there? What are their levels?”

“About five or six, all below the fourth rank—shouldn’t be too hard!” Li Tian replied.

“Below fourth rank? Are there any third-rank ones? Does ‘below fourth rank’ include the fourth rank?” Yang Fan began to panic.

There were several ways to interpret that—did ‘below fourth rank’ include the fourth rank? Even if it didn’t, how many third-rank ones were there? What stages were they at? There’s a world of difference between someone just entering the third rank and someone at the peak!

“You see how little ambition you have! I’m starting to regret taking you as my student. Which modern cultivator doesn’t face challenges head-on? Who doesn’t dare to fight, who isn’t compelled to battle? I looked over your task records—you’re already a second-rank martial artist, but what tasks do you take? You rarely take on opponents of your own level! Instead, you bully first-rank martial artists or ordinary bandits. I’m embarrassed for you.”

Li Tian’s expression was one of disappointment.

Yang Fan admitted he felt a bit ashamed. Since his debut, the most dangerous task was the recent military assignment he did with Zhou Yiyi and the others. And even then, everything went wrong.

“Teacher, you still haven’t told me their levels. I need to know so I can prepare,” Yang Fan said, although he felt embarrassed, his cheeks burning. Still, he had to ask.

Li Tian looked at Yang Fan, speechless. The boy wasn’t provoked at all.

After Yang Fan’s last assignment, Li Tian had gone to the task building to check his records. He was startled by what he found. The kid had completed many tasks, but the difficulty was questionable. Before the new student competition, Yang Fan had reached mid-second rank, and before that, all his targets were below second rank. Only Liu Qiang was a second-rank martial artist, but he hadn’t learned battle techniques. The encounter with people from the Shadow Realm was an accident, not part of any task.

Now, teaching this kid, Li Tian saw that his attitude and questions clearly showed a desire to refuse.

“You little rascal, let me tell you, this task is not optional—you must do it. Your opponents are six: one at the peak of third rank, two at mid-third rank, two just entering third rank, and one at the peak of second rank. If you can’t win, don’t bother returning to the Shanghai Cultivation Academy.”

Li Tian glared fiercely at Yang Fan, his voice hoarse with anger.

Yang Fan looked at Li Tian, a bit intimidated. Yet, he pressed on, “Teacher, I’m only at second-rank peak, and I haven’t fully mastered my own power yet. My stance isn’t stable, and I’ve only succeeded three times in the Ninefold Slash. Except for one opponent at my level, all the others are at or above third rank, some even at peak third rank. I really don’t think I can win.”

Li Tian scoffed, “Hmph, so little ambition. I’m not asking you to fight them right now. I’ve agreed with those old fellows on March fifteenth—you have over half a month.”

“You just got a Sea of Qi fruit, didn’t you? You should be able to reach third rank in this time. If you’re lucky, you might even make some progress in the footwork of Berserker’s Nine Heavens. The gap between peers isn’t too big. Didn’t you just slay two peak third-rank monsters during the military task?”

Yang Fan felt uneasy after hearing that. What nonsense was that? Those two beasts weren’t really killed by him—one died, the other was gravely wounded, and he just took advantage of the situation. Even facing the injured beast, he almost didn’t make it out alive. He regretted it then, and thinking about it now still made him uncomfortable.

Li Tian saw Yang Fan was about to say something and shouted again, “Enough nonsense! I’ve bet with those old coots. If you lose, there’ll be hell to pay, but if you win, you’ll get your reward. That’s it, get out. You have half a month—if you don’t reach third rank, you’re no longer my student.”

…

Yang Fan walked back to the dormitory, his mind unsettled.

Half a month to reach third rank?

He’d only been cultivating for just over three months, with some of that spent on tasks and practicing combat techniques rather than focused cultivation. Reaching the peak of second rank was already quite an achievement. He even had confidence that by the end of the academic year he could reach fourth rank. Being fourth rank in a year would give him bragging rights.

But now his teacher, the great master Li Tian, seemed dissatisfied.

Reaching third rank within two months of enrollment—wasn’t that excessive? Wasn’t that forcing the issue?

He’d wanted to argue with Li Tian, but seeing his demeanor, Yang Fan didn’t dare say another word. Since refusal was impossible, he’d just have to accept his fate.

Back in his dorm, Yang Fan had just finished tidying up when the door knocked.

He opened it to find Zhou Ting standing gracefully at the entrance.

Every time Yang Fan saw Zhou Ting, he felt it was unreal.

Her appearance wasn’t particularly stunning—even a bit less striking than Zhou Yiyi—but Zhou Ting’s aura was something the wild-haired Zhou Yiyi couldn’t compete with. Yang Fan couldn’t describe this aura; it was something that made people involuntarily tense.

At first, he thought it was the difference between cultivators and ordinary people. After he began cultivating, he felt it was the difference between the strong and the weak. But now, having met many martial artists stronger than Zhou Ting—such as Teacher Zhang from the dorm management area, whose strength far surpassed Zhou Ting, a fourth-rank martial artist—he never felt the same pressure.

“Senior Sister? What brings you here? Please, come in!” Yang Fan said, quickly stepping aside to let Zhou Ting enter.

Inside, Zhou Ting glanced around.

“This time, Yiyi was a bit reckless in inviting you on the task, and you got hurt. I’ve come to apologize,” Zhou Ting said, fixing her gaze on Yang Fan.

“Senior Sister, please don’t say that. I agreed to the task myself, and unexpected incidents are unavoidable. The intelligence was a bit off, but it wasn’t Yiyi’s fault. There’s no need for you to apologize.”

Yang Fan felt a bit embarrassed.

Zhou Ting looked at the sparse new hair growing on Yang Fan’s head and said, “I’ll also apologize on behalf of my father. He was a bit much—injuries in arena duels are inevitable, but bullying with strength afterward was truly wrong. I wanted to apologize earlier, but you were already out on a task. So today, I’ll apologize twice at once!”

Yang Fan touched his prickly scalp, grinning, “It’s nothing, really. Teacher Zhou just gave me a haircut, no need for apologies. Senior Sister, you brought me into Shanghai Cultivation Academy—such a small matter doesn’t require you to apologize.”

Zhou Ting smiled, continuing to look around.

Yang Fan grew curious. Since entering, Zhou Ting had been surveying the room, only pausing to speak.

“Senior Sister, is something wrong? What are you looking at?”

Yang Fan was puzzled.

“Nothing, really. I lived in this dorm last year. Spent a year here. Coming in now, I just wanted to look around,” Zhou Ting replied.

Yang Fan smiled and nodded.

This was Dormitory 0001 of the freshman area—the room reserved for the most outstanding new student. The concentration of spiritual energy here was the best in the area. Though freshmen below third rank didn’t rely much on spiritual energy, prolonged exposure could benefit their bodies and future cultivation.

Zhou Ting glanced around once more, then said goodbye.

Before leaving, she told Yang Fan to come to her if he needed anything.

She’d said this before, but never so solemnly.

Yang Fan nodded.

After seeing Zhou Ting off, Yang Fan lay down on his bed.

He hadn’t rested properly in half a month. First, he spent time in Chang’an searching for task targets, then got shot and hospitalized. Just out of the hospital, Zhou Yiyi tricked him into heading to Yunnan.

Entering the Ten Thousand Mountains was even more grueling.

Afterwards, he spent several days in the hospital again.

Finally back in his own space, how could he not indulge in his bed first?

Soon after lying down, Yang Fan drifted into sleep.

…

“I want to know—what use is this iron rod? I want to know—what’s the point of these changes?…”

A burst of singing dragged Yang Fan out of his dreams.

He looked at his phone.

“Mu Qingshan? What’s he up to?”

Yang Fan muttered as he glanced at the screen and answered the call.

“Hello, what do you want? I just fell asleep,” Yang Fan shouted as soon as the call connected.

He had a bad temper when woken up; unless Mu Qingshan gave him a good reason, he’d have to pay for it.

“Yang Bro, stop sleeping! Get to the academy arena! There’s a fight!”

On the other end, Mu Qingshan was shouting urgently.

“Arena? What arena? I’ve never heard of it—who’s fighting?”

Yang Fan was completely confused. What was Mu Qingshan talking about? The academy had an arena?

The freshman competitions were all held in the sports hall. If there was an arena, why not use it?

As Yang Fan puzzled over this, the phone erupted in a cacophony of shouting and cursing.

Then Mu Qingshan’s voice came through again—