Chapter 22: Bound for the White Clouds

"You are currently only at the seventh grade of the Warrior rank, but the Cult Master is unaware of this; he only knows that you were at the fourth grade during your baptism. Yet, the Cult Master still claims you can win. Do you know why?" Sun Yuan asked.

Fang Che frowned. This was the one thing he could not fathom. The gap between a fourth-grade Warrior and a first-grade Martial Master was immense. On what grounds did Yin Shenggong believe he could win? Why was he so confident? Even if he knew of his good aptitude and rapid cultivation, there were less than twenty days left. In twenty days, how much progress could one realistically make? Besides, if he were improving, wouldn't his opponents be doing the same?

"Because it has been less than twenty days since I took you as my disciple. The Cult Master knows that when I took you in, you had just broken through to the first grade of the Warrior rank. When he saw you half a month later, you were already at the fourth grade," Sun Yuan explained. "Such a rate of cultivation is rare in this world. That is the first reason."

"I see."

"The second reason is that their geniuses have been nurtured for over a year, which is hardly a secret among the high-ranking members of our sects. However, until now, no one knows about you except for me, the Cult Master, and the three guardians. In other words, you are in the shadows while they are in the light. Even if you defeat them, they will only think that the Garrison has produced a genius. We are hidden, they are exposed; that is the second reason for our chance of victory."

"That makes sense."

"The third reason is that when the Cult Master saw you last time, he was surprised by your talent, so he and the three guardians imparted some of their teachings to you. When the Cult Master issued this mission, he sighed, remarking that he had never intended to target the geniuses of the three sects when he taught you, but fate had led us to this point—it was a happy accident."

"The teachings from the Cult Master and the others are genuine treasures, their closely guarded secrets. As long as you master them, fighting against those of a higher level is not difficult. That is the third reason."

"I understand."

"And the final point is... the Cult Master believes that everyone has their own destiny. You appeared at the perfect moment, just when there was a need for someone to restore the sect's honor, and you happen to have a fighting chance. Therefore, the Cult Master believes you may carry good fortune, or perhaps you are a benefactor of our sect. So..."

"Cough, cough, cough..." Fang Che coughed. He truly had not expected that Yin Shenggong, the Cult Master of the Yi Xin Cult and a notorious demon who wreaked havoc on the world, would be so superstitious. It was almost laughable, and he barely managed to keep a straight face.

But on second thought, it was not surprising. Yin Shenggong had no need to personally conduct his baptism. Yet, because of these circumstances, he happened to be there and presided over it himself. A Cult Master and four guardians presiding over the baptism of an ant-like disciple with such low status and cultivation was already abnormal, carrying an air of destiny. And because of his talent, Yin Shenggong, who had not even intended to come, had gone as far as teaching him the sword techniques that made him famous. They were tied together now.

And then, after the failed operation, the mockery, and the impending prospect of falling behind the other four sects, there just happened to be an opportunity to strike back, and the person to execute it just happened to be him. It *had* to be him. Before this, Yin Shenggong hadn't even thought of targeting the other geniuses. Fang Che had just popped up. For Yin Shenggong to have this sense of 'destiny and fortune' was, in a way, quite fitting. Thinking about it, Fang Che had a thought: This is fate!

...

"These are three Green Spirit Pills of the Warrior rank bestowed upon you by the Cult Master. Each one can add ten years of cultivation. I will teach you how to refine them later. These are ten stalks of Green Root Grass to assist your cultivation, and these are three Green Spirit Flowers; consuming them will strengthen your spiritual sense. And this is a sword, personally bestowed by the Cult Master, a secret creation of the main sect—a Wind Steel Sword that has never tasted blood."

"This sword carries the essence of wind; it enhances your speed and sharpness. It is a rarity in the world; you must cherish it."

Fang Che felt a jolt in his heart. His eyes grew fervent. He had possessed a Wind Steel Sword in his previous life. It was only later, when his cultivation grew too high and he couldn't withstand the immense surge of spiritual power, that it was destroyed in a battle against a powerful enemy. But for any warrior below the Emperor level, it was a dream weapon! It increased attack speed, sharpness, and gave one a sensation of riding the wind when unsheathed. The balance was exquisite.

"These resources are enough for you to break through to the Martial Master rank," Sun Yuan said tentatively.

Spiritual pills and herbs were excellent, but there were still three grades to go before reaching the Martial Master rank: eighth, ninth, and completion. It also required personal insight, state of mind, and combat experience for each level. While the medicinal power was sufficient, it depended on individual aptitude. Generally, being able to absorb sixty or seventy percent was considered excellent; the rest would dissipate into the air.

"It is enough!" Fang Che did not overthink it. He lacked neither insights nor experience, and his state of mind was transcendent. Below the Emperor level, he had no bottlenecks.

"That girl has decent aptitude; I plan to nurture her," Fang Che said, playing a little game. "Master, don't worry about it. I want her to belong entirely to me."

Sun Yuan understood and chuckled with a lewd expression, "You know quite a bit, don't you."

Fang Che coughed. The old man had completely misunderstood. "Belonging entirely to me" did not mean what that lewd smile suggested.

"You mean to brand her from body to soul and spirit, including every step of her advancement?" Sun Yuan squinted. "That’s a good plan. It will make her more compliant and... enjoyable to use later."

"..." Fang Che felt a headache coming on. *Old pervert! I am a man of integrity; I look down on you!*

"I won't interfere then. You can train her yourself from a young age."

"Um... Master, I also need you to add a note to the sect records regarding a personal maid." Fang Che spoke very tactfully. By adding a note about a personal maid, he could bypass the baptism for Ye Meng, allowing her to exist as his affiliate. In the future, whether she stayed or left would depend entirely on his whim. It was a clever workaround.

Sun Yuan agreed without hesitation. For a guardian, such a small matter didn't need anyone's approval; he could handle it himself with a single sentence. "Fine, I'll take care of it. You focus on preparing for the battle."

"Yes."

That very day, Fang Che took a Green Spirit Pill and a Green Spirit Flower, beginning to digest their power. Sun Yuan stood guard at the door. Suddenly, he saw a vortex form around Fang Che, and countless spiritual energies rushed in, pouring endlessly into his body. Sun Yuan was startled. *Damn! Is this the cultivation of a seventh-grade Warrior? I've seen it all now.*

As the Green Spirit Pill went down his throat, infinite spiritual energy filled his internal organs and spread through his meridians. As he circulated the Boundless True Scripture, this energy was drawn into his Dantian and, after completing a cycle, became his own power. The bottleneck of the seventh-grade Warrior was filled almost instantly. Following that, he broke through with unstoppable force into the eighth grade. The spiritual energy gathered again, and as he continued to circulate it, his Dantian filled once more. With a boom, new acupuncture points were breached. He entered the ninth grade.

By the time Fang Che finished absorbing the pill, he was at the peak of the ninth grade. Furthermore, his spiritual sense had doubled, thanks to the Green Spirit Flower. Fang Che felt refreshed and clear-headed. He stood up, his bones cracking. Walking out, he saw Sun Yuan’s shocked face.

"Ninth grade completion?"

"Yes."

Sun Yuan twitched, forcing himself to remain calm. "Not bad, it didn't exceed my expectations." He quickly looked away and said, "Let me spar with you to help disperse the medicinal power."

"Alright!"

By the early hours of the next morning, Sun Yuan had found an excuse to leave in a hurry. He couldn't help it. He had suppressed his cultivation to the same level as his disciple, but he couldn't win. Not only that, he had secretly raised his cultivation to the first grade of Martial Master, and he had still been beaten! Where was the logic in that? He had to secretly raise it to the third grade of Martial Master to finally suppress his disciple. Sun Yuan felt he had lost all face. Although he sometimes felt "inspired" by his disciple's techniques during their bouts, it only made him feel worse. *Who is the master and who is the disciple?*

"You should cultivate on your own from now on. I believe you can do it. I’m going to continue searching for resources for you." Maintaining his last shred of dignity, Sun Yuan fled. He had wanted to offer some guidance to Ye Meng to assert his presence, but now he had no such thoughts. Fang Che’s guidance was probably better than his own.

*Having a genius disciple is... a truly indescribable bitterness.*

...

Fang Che spent five days absorbing the three pills and flowers. As for the Green Root Grass, he planted it in the courtyard to gather spiritual energy. Under each stalk, he placed two beast cores. The spiritual energy in the entire courtyard grew denser by the day. Ye Meng, Fang Qianyi, and the two maids felt refreshed and vibrant every day.

Five days later, Fang Che pushed his cultivation directly to the third grade of Martial Master! Peak. Fang Qianyi was beaming with joy. Especially after sparring with her son and being beaten even when suppressing her cultivation to his level... she couldn't stop smiling. "A genius! As expected of my son!"

His blade and sword skills were pure and skilled. In these few days, Ye Meng had been beaten forty or fifty times by Fang Che and scolded two hundred and sixty-three times. Now, Ye Meng was completely dazed. Because Fang Che’s scolding was always logical. Every time she was beaten and scolded, she would reflect in her room and realize that what he said was correct. Her combat power was indeed increasing rapidly as Fang Che had described. Thus, Ye Meng fell into self-doubt. Since Fang Che hadn't made any moves, Ye Meng had no intelligence to pass on, and everything was calm.

Fang Che did not intend to expose the opponents the Yi Xin Cult wanted him to deal with to the Garrison just yet. He had just received news, and if they were exposed now, he would undoubtedly be the primary suspect.

"There is still plenty of time. Let's play slowly."

Days passed one by one. Soon, it was July, the time for the Martial Academy entrance exams. Martial students from all over began to converge on Baiyun Prefecture. The Southeast Baiyun Martial Academy! As the saying goes: *Cultivate the hero’s spirit, head held high by the White Clouds!* Among the top eight martial academies in the world, the Baiyun Martial Academy ranked fifth. It was one of the very best. Its recruitment range covered the entire Southeast Dao, seven prefectures, and fifty-six cities.

"After you go, don't forget to contact your cousin. He is a top student at the Baiyun Martial Academy. With him there, I can rest easy," Fang Qianyi said, nagging as she packed his bags.

"I know, Mother," Fang Che promised repeatedly. "Mother, I’ve left you five hundred beast cores and a small bag of spirit crystals. You don't need to take on missions anymore; just focus on your cultivation at home. I don't want to worry about you fighting for your life."

"Well... I should at least do something, shouldn't I?"

"I think you should just cultivate. If you get hurt, I’ll be distracted at the academy and might make a mistake. I’m young, and if I can't stay calm, what if I get killed or crippled?" Fang Che threatened.

Fang Qianyi was horrified and knocked on her son's head twice. "Fine, I’ll try not to go out."

"Good. Just cultivate in the courtyard. I've planted the Green Root Grass Master gave me; it gathers spiritual energy." Fang Che felt relieved. As long as Fang Qianyi didn't head into the deep mountains, her Grandmaster cultivation level was virtually invincible in Bibo City. But if she went out... truth be told, a congenital Grandmaster wasn't much. There were countless experts outside, and any King or Emperor level expert could kill her with a single slap.

Having scared Fang Qianyi, Fang Che began his preparations. He had plenty of money; the entire Su family’s wealth was in his hands for 'safekeeping.' This financial power was likely unrivaled among both new and old students at the Baiyun Martial Academy. The academy stipulated that no one was allowed to escort new students. They had to make the journey themselves.

*From today on, I am no longer a child under my parents' knees, but a warrior of the world.*

That was the rule of the academy. There were various trials along the way, and the trials had points. Scoring over a hundred points meant exemption from the entrance exam; over two hundred meant free, exam-exempt admission. Those who arrived safely would be ranked by points, and the top one hundred would compete in martial arts for the title of 'Baiyun Scholar.'

The next morning, Fang Che, dressed in black robes, stood tall and straight. His maid, Ye Meng, dressed in pink, stood respectfully by his side. The carriage arrived, and four trunks were loaded on. Ye Meng lifted the curtain. Fang Che stepped in, his black robes fluttering. Ye Meng followed, head bowed. The driver cracked the whip, the horses raised their hooves, and they slowly set off. Under the reluctant gazes and earnest instructions of Fang Qianyi and Fang Zhenghang, the carriage slowly left the compound.

The wind picked up, raising a cloud of dust. Fang Che frowned slightly, sitting upright, his eyes fixed on the long road ahead. His gaze was deep, his expression calm, his heart as still as a lake. He knew that he had truly begun his journey.

Just as the poem goes:
*With a heart full of grand aspirations, I draw my sword to test the Southeast;*
*The wind and rain rage on this path, yet I hold my head high toward the white clouds.*

[Volume One ends. Volume Two begins at 5:30 PM.]