Chapter Fifty-One: Turning Hostile

Zhang He waved his horsetail whisk, dispelling the phantom warriors floating in the air. His mastery of illusion techniques was unparalleled—a skill honed over twenty years at the Six Rivers Academy, providing him with the confidence to hold his teaching post.

The gaze of this robed cultivator once again swept across the lecture hall, now stripped of any intimidation. Yet every gesture and expression of the new students was taken in by Zhang He, including Fang Xiao, seated quietly in the corner.

If asked which among the nearly hundred freshmen left the deepest impression on him, it would undoubtedly be Fang Xiao. For Fang Xiao listened with the utmost attentiveness, taking notes as he absorbed the lesson—a rarity, for none of the others bothered to do so. Most teachers held a fondness for diligent students, and Zhang He was no exception. But despite his appreciation, he saw little hope for Fang Xiao’s future in the martial arts.

Fang Xiao was simply too poor.

Clad in coarse, inexpensive garments, carrying a faded satchel, and wearing distinctive old shoes, the boy’s impoverished state was plain for all to see. The truth was harsh: children of poor families seldom rose to greatness. Martial training required considerable wealth, and Zhang He suspected Fang Xiao’s talents had barely brought him into the Body Tempering realm, just enough to pass the academy’s entrance exam.

Even the academy’s meals were tiered by quality, to say nothing of other expenses. In Zhang He’s eyes, Fang Xiao’s family had likely exhausted their fortune, even borrowing at high interest to pay his tuition, all in hopes of a better future. He had seen many talented but impoverished martial students before, and few had succeeded.

With a sigh, Zhang He announced, “Class dismissed.”

The freshmen rose in unison, bowing respectfully, “Thank you, Teacher!”

Zhang He nodded and departed gracefully.

The room instantly reverted to its initial chaos and liveliness. Having finished their first class, the boys and girls had bottled up thoughts finally ready to spill forth. Laughter and chatter filled the air.

Fang Xiao, solitary as ever, placed his pencil and notebook back in his satchel. During the lesson, he had noticed that none of his peers took notes as he did, and most listened with only half an ear, despite Zhang He’s engaging lecture.

He understood: his classmates had likely begun their martial training long ago, and everything Zhang He taught was already familiar to them. Their knowledge far surpassed his own, and the weight of this realization pressed upon him.

Six Rivers Academy was strict in its admissions and dismissals; each year, students lacking ability were removed. Fang Xiao had no desire to be among them—it would be far too humiliating.

Just as Fang Xiao’s thoughts drifted, a lively youth rushed over and sat beside him.

“Brother Fang!” he called.

Fang Xiao was startled. “Oh, it’s you.”

It was Zheng Kaizhi, the young master of the Zheng family whom Fang Xiao had met just yesterday. He had all but forgotten about him, yet here he was, appearing right after class.

Zheng Kaizhi rubbed his nose with a wry smile. “Yes, it’s me.”

Fang Xiao asked with concern, “Are you alright?”

“No problem,” Zheng Kaizhi replied nonchalantly. “I was dragged back home yesterday, scolded, and docked half a year’s allowance to pay for those guys’ medicine.”

Fang Xiao felt guilty. “I was the one who fought them. Let me repay you your allowance.”

He reached for his satchel to pull out a gold leaf.

“No, no!” Zheng Kaizhi quickly stopped him. “Brother Fang, I’m grateful to you! How could I possibly take your money? Besides, they insulted me first—you were right to teach them a lesson!”

Fang Xiao hesitated. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Absolutely!” Zheng Kaizhi grinned. “Brother Fang, in the academy, I’ll need you to look after me!”

“No problem,” Fang Xiao agreed readily. After a moment, he added, “But I won’t help you bully others.”

“Of course not!” Zheng Kaizhi protested dramatically. “It’s always others who bully me!”

Fang Xiao recalled what Zheng Kaizhi had told him at the restaurant yesterday: born with frail health, he had nearly died as a baby. His family had sought a skilled Daoist to heal him, who prescribed a pill and instructed his parents to raise him as a girl for several years. Once recovered, he became himself again. Cherished by his elders, he was targeted by jealous peers, earning the malicious nickname “Little Lady Zheng.”

Fang Xiao felt sympathy for him. “I’ll do my best to look out for you.”

“Thank you!” Zheng Kaizhi was delighted. He produced a sheet of paper from his sleeve, covered in writing and stamped with a seal, and handed it to Fang Xiao.

“What’s this?” Fang Xiao asked curiously.

“Banknote,” Zheng Kaizhi explained. “My mother gave it to me in secret. You can exchange it for silver at any bank in town.”

So this was the world’s currency? Fang Xiao saw the denomination: one hundred taels. He understood immediately.

Without hesitation, Fang Xiao handed the banknote back.

“I don’t want it. Don’t come to me again!”

Zheng Kaizhi was stunned. But Fang Xiao was already walking away, unwilling to say another word.

It wasn’t that Fang Xiao thought the sum too small. Rather, Zheng Kaizhi’s act of offering the banknote angered him deeply. Fang Xiao saw him as a friend worth making, and though his own abilities might be the lowest in the academy, he was willing to help.

But Zheng Kaizhi treated him as a hired thug? Worse, his gesture carried a hint of superiority. Perhaps Zheng Kaizhi hadn’t realized it, but Fang Xiao could not tolerate it.

Zheng Kaizhi watched Fang Xiao disappear through the door, clutching the banknote in despair. He realized he had made a grave mistake: Fang Xiao was not someone who curries favor for money. In offering silver, he had insulted Fang Xiao.

Zheng Kaizhi wanted to chase after him and explain, but shame overwhelmed him, and the curious gazes of those around only added to his discomfort. He could only leave, regret gnawing at him.

Meanwhile, Fang Xiao left the lecture hall and, following the map on his parchment, found the dining hall. Zhang He’s lesson had lasted the entire morning; now it was lunchtime.

Fang Xiao had not forgotten: he had paid a hefty three hundred taels for premium meal service!

The Six Rivers Academy’s dining hall was even larger than the lecture hall, filled with tables and bustling with students—a lively scene. As soon as Fang Xiao entered, he was greeted by the rich aroma of roasted meat. His stomach growled in response, and all traces of displeasure vanished from his mind.

Food was paramount, above all else.

Fang Xiao now looked forward to lunch with eager anticipation.