Chapter Seven: The Jade Stone

Zhao Rui looked at Zhou Ting, his face a picture of astonishment.
“Who are you? Do you know me?”
Zhou Ting was also a bit surprised. She didn’t recognize this chubby man in front of her, yet he had called her by name. Although she had a bit of a reputation in martial circles, it shouldn’t have spread all the way to this remote border region.

“I’m Zhao Rui, the director of the Practitioner Management Bureau of HM City. Of course I know you, Miss Zhou. A sophomore at the Modu Institute of Cultivation, who advanced to the third rank within a year. Just yesterday, you defeated nine fourth-rank assistant instructors at the Border Cultivation Academy, three of whom are renowned on the Yellow List. Then you made a last-minute breakthrough and reached the fourth-rank Martial Master realm. How could I not know about a genius like you?”

After his initial surprise, Zhao Rui’s expression returned to normal. Years of experience in the bureaucracy had made him shrewd and composed, but it was true that he had been genuinely shocked at first. Despite being the director of the Practitioner Management Bureau, he was merely a first-rank martial apprentice himself. Meeting a prodigy like Zhou Ting was a first in his life.

In this era of spiritual energy resurgence, people were gradually getting used to the law of the jungle, where strength spoke louder than anything else. The weak always bowed their heads before the strong—this truth had become evident over the past decade.

At this moment, Yang Fan also walked over. Hearing Zhao Rui’s words, he finally understood just how formidable the young woman standing before him was. Although he had not yet started his path of cultivation, he had learned a bit about the martial ranks on his phone that afternoon. To defeat fourth-rank opponents as a third-rank, especially those on the Yellow List, was simply unimaginable. Yang Fan thought to himself, “So this is what the Modu Institute of Cultivation is like? Even sophomores are already strong enough to challenge assistant instructors from other renowned academies and even defeat those of higher ranks.”

Yang Fan made up his mind then and there. Since he had already agreed to go to Modu with Zhou Ting, there was no need to hesitate. If martial cultivators must fight for their place, then this was his opportunity—to strive for a better future.

“Brother Zhao, I’m really sorry. I’ve already promised Zhou Ting to go to the Modu Institute of Cultivation. I’ll make sure to pay you for the room. I’m sorry about this.”

Zhao Rui snapped back to reality. Indeed, the Modu Institute had already sent someone, and not just anyone, but a prodigy like Zhou Ting. The moment he saw her, he had felt a sense of unease, which now proved justified. He couldn’t help but smile bitterly to himself. “Sigh, after all that running around today, I was the first from the Border Cultivation Academy to make contact with Yang Fan, but who would have thought Modu Institute would send Zhou Ting herself.”

Zhao Rui gave a wry smile. “It’s nothing, brother. I understand. There’s a gap between us here in the borderlands and Modu. Your path is yours to choose, and no one can say otherwise. As for the room, don’t mention it again. I didn’t do this just to get you into the Border Cultivation Academy. Like I said, if you see me as your brother, then let’s not talk about such things anymore.”

“Director Zhao, that’s not right,” Zhou Ting interjected. “Your friendship is between the two of you, but as for the room, Modu Institute can easily cover that cost. I’ll transfer the money to your account later, so don’t refuse. That’s settled.”

Now Zhou Ting understood—this chubby man had contacted Yang Fan first, and he spoke well. Fortunately, she was close to this little city in the northwest and came in person. Otherwise, it would have been hard to say where Yang Fan would have ended up. Besides, the academy’s plan still required a first-rank student.

“Fine, you two decide. Brother, I’ll be going now. Save my number—let me know when you’re leaving.” With that, Zhao Rui wrote down his number on a slip of paper and left.

Yang Fan remained awkward. Although he had made his decision, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for letting down someone’s good intentions. Even if there was a self-serving motive behind Zhao Rui’s kindness, it was still one of the few acts of goodwill Yang Fan had received over the years.

“Enough with the indecision,” Zhou Ting said, looking at Yang Fan with a hint of annoyance. “Your life will change a lot from now on, and you’ll have to make many choices. This is just the beginning. A martial artist needs to forge ahead boldly, not hesitate and waver.”

This boy might have first-rank talent, but he was not decisive in his actions. Of course, she didn’t know about Yang Fan’s life over the past eighteen years. As an orphan, he always remembered those who treated him well, but when he let such people down, his guilt was much stronger than most.

“Come on, let’s go. I only had breakfast today searching for you. I’m starving. Come eat with me.” Zhou Ting didn’t wait for Yang Fan to respond before heading out.

Yang Fan quickly grabbed his coat and hurried after her.

There were plenty of local specialties in the border town. Yang Fan had always loved grilled lamb and spent much of his part-time earnings on it.

At a barbecue stall downstairs, Yang Fan and Zhou Ting sat across from each other.

After finishing a skewer, Zhou Ting remarked, “The lamb here really is delicious. I usually avoid it because of the smell, but this borderland barbecue is different—rich but not greasy, and not at all gamey.”

Yang Fan agreed, “Yeah, I don’t like the smell either, but I can never get enough of this barbecue.”

Zhou Ting set down her skewer, wiped her mouth, and said, “I originally came out to seek a breakthrough, but then I was assigned to find you. Tomorrow, you’ll return to Modu with me. The academy term starts at the beginning of January and runs through November, with no breaks in between. Of course, many students don’t go home even during the holidays. Cultivation progresses faster at the academy, and with such fierce competition, no one wants to waste a single moment—they all give it their all to get ahead.”

It turned out that cultivation academies had a different schedule from ordinary universities. While regular schools started in September and had winter and summer breaks, the cultivation academies began at the start of the year and didn’t even break for the New Year. Only a few symbolic days off at the end of the year, and most students didn’t return home. Even without classes, they would go to the academy’s mission office to take tasks. Martial artists refused to waste a single moment.

Yang Fan felt the pressure mounting. He might have great talent, but in such an environment, the pressure would only increase. The Modu Institute of Cultivation was full of geniuses, all of whom worked even harder to fight for resources. If he didn’t give his all, he might be surpassed by those less gifted than himself.

“Alright,” Yang Fan said, “I’ll buy a ticket now and go with you to Modu tomorrow.”

“You don’t need to buy a ticket—I’ll arrange everything. Just be ready to leave with me in the morning. I’ll pick you up, so get up early. And you’re paying for dinner,” Zhou Ting replied, standing up to leave.

She paused, turned back, and added, “Yang Fan, from now on, we’ll be classmates, or you could say fellow disciples. Let me give you a word of advice: Beasts always walk alone; only cattle and sheep travel in herds. I’ll be off now. I’ll pick you up at eight sharp tomorrow morning.”

With that, Zhou Ting departed without another word.

“Beasts always walk alone; only cattle and sheep travel in herds...?” Yang Fan mused on her words as he went to the stall owner to pay the bill.

“One hundred and fifty yuan exactly,” the owner said, breaking Yang Fan’s train of thought.

“One hundred and fifty? That expensive?” Yang Fan was surprised. That was a week’s worth of food for him.

“One-fifty’s not expensive, is it? You had thirty skewers, two racks of ribs...” the owner listed.

Yang Fan helplessly counted out the money and handed it over. The surge of excitement he’d just felt was quickly doused by a cold wind.

It hurt—he’d only just left the orphanage today, and already spent two hundred and fifty yuan, plus he owed Zhao Rui for a phone and the room. Everything seemed to cost money. He’d have to find a way to earn some cash once he got to Modu, or life would be impossible.

Back at the hotel, Yang Fan lay on the bed, intending to browse his phone for information about cultivation academies. Then he remembered the jade pendant the headmistress had given him that morning—he hadn’t had a chance to look at it yet, and with everything going on, he’d almost forgotten about it.

Thinking of this, he took his backpack and pulled out a small box the headmistress had handed him at their parting, saying it had been left with him at the orphanage entrance.

The box was just an ordinary wooden case. Inside was a piece of jade threaded with a black cord. It was more a jade piece than a pendant, as it hadn’t been carved or polished, rough and uneven. If it weren’t for the cord, Yang Fan would have thought it was just an ordinary stone.

He placed the jade in his palm, thinking, “This was left with me at the orphanage—I can’t lose it, even if it’s just a keepsake.”

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a sudden pain shot through his palm. He quickly opened his hand, only to find the black cord remaining—while the jade piece had vanished without a trace.