Chapter Three: What is going on?

Qian Sanjiang was lost in thought, contemplating how to report to the Sect Master.

"The Sect Master’s Seven Swords of the Blood Spirit—this kid has clearly mastered the basics, and the lethality is sufficient. To achieve this in such a short time... if the Sect Master knew, he would surely be very pleased..."

Qian Sanjiang was busy calculating how to use Fang Che’s progress to flatter his superior effectively.

It was the workplace, after all; one had to make a living, and there was no shame in that. After all, the stipends were quite generous.

...

Fang Che sat in the carriage, eyes closed, resting his mind. Internally, however, he was evaluating the young martial arts students who had "accidentally" stopped there to watch the conflict.

"Wei Zihao is the most suspicious, but he shouldn't be acting alone. Also, that Qing Ziyue, who was standing far away and looked somewhat frail, is also suspicious."

"But I don't want to deal with them yet. For one, it’s useless; for another, we are too close to their families, which could bring trouble to my own. Thirdly, keeping them around means I can cause trouble for them at the Martial Academy whenever I want. Especially when I need to create a stir or pass on information, they can be used as natural scapegoats..."

"These can all be held as backup plans. Dealing with them now would be a waste of resources."

"For resources that can be bullied at any time, one must cherish them."

Fang Che sat in the carriage with his eyes closed, his face expressionless, but his mind was racing.

"Once I leave this place, I’ll be entering the Martial Academy. I don’t know when I’ll be able to come out once I’m in. Sigh, I never attended the Martial Academy in my past life... I don’t know the rules."

"I have Ye Meng following me, and in the shadows, there must be others watching me as well. Neither the Garrison Hall nor the Heart Sect will let me out of their sight."

"However, this trip will be somewhat inconvenient. I wonder how the Golden-Horned Flood Dragon is progressing with its cultivation? I wanted to bring it along, but I don’t know if there will be an opportunity."

Fang Che’s gaze was contemplative as he looked into the distance.

That was the direction of the Hundred Miasma Peak, which belonged to the outer reaches of the Forest of Ten Thousand Spirits. It was not far from where he was now—only about five hundred miles away.

"But if the Golden-Horned Flood Dragon hasn't reached the formless stage, there’s little point in carrying it with me. There’s even the risk of it dissipating once it leaves the extreme Yin zone."

Fang Che ultimately abandoned the idea.

There was an extreme Yin zone over there; it was better to let the Golden-Horned Flood Dragon cultivate for a while longer.

It was better to let it wait a few months, or even a year or two, than to risk it being exposed or dissipating because its cultivation wasn't complete!

Fang Che exhaled softly and stopped thinking about it.

The Golden-Horned Flood Dragon was a backup plan he had prepared early on. Even before Ye Meng appeared, Fang Che had been considering this secret move. Because as a soul entity, it was incredibly convenient for delivering messages.

Even the last time he schemed against the Su family—though it was an accident—he had thoughts of sending those guys to the Golden-Horned Flood Dragon to nourish its body.

He had been waiting. Waiting for the Golden-Horned Flood Dragon to transform from form to formless, for its soul cultivation to advance further, so he could bring it by his side.

Even now, with Ye Meng, he hadn't given up on that plan. But until now, this restless plan had to be temporarily shelved.

"Steadily laying the groundwork can influence long-term plans; one must never act prematurely just because something is convenient!"

...

Finally, they arrived at the Forest of Ten Thousand Spirits.

The coachman had turned back. As an ordinary person with only modest martial strength, driving to this point was his limit.

Only then did Fang Che propose, "I’ll buy this carriage from you; you can head back yourself."

Fang Che offered double the price. The coachman agreed readily, though he was puzzled: "If you wanted to buy it, why didn't you buy it earlier? Why wait until now?"

Fang Che, of course, wouldn't have bought it earlier. He was enjoying the comfort of the carriage while organizing his thoughts; although his plan was already clear, he figured he might as well enjoy it a little longer.

Because once the coachman left, he would have to drive the carriage himself!

Ye Meng could only sit in the carriage.

—The tasks ahead had to be completed independently to count as results.

But the idea of the young master driving while the maid sat in the carriage left Fang Che feeling a bit unbalanced, so he had insisted on sitting for half the journey.

"Go inside and sit!" Fang Che said, his face dark. "I, the young master, will drive."

"Huh?" Ye Meng was stunned. Her large, round eyes stared at Fang Che in confusion.

Had the sun risen from the west? Had he suddenly become considerate? Could it be that he had finally realized her peerless beauty?

"Once we exit the Forest of Ten Thousand Spirits, if you haven't made any progress, I’ll sell you to a brothel!" Fang Che threatened, then picked up the whip. "Giddyap!"

Ye Meng: ...

...

Ye Meng sat cross-legged in the carriage, waiting. Her large eyes kept rolling, and her pretty face wore an expression of speechlessness.

Because Fang Che had dumped her and the carriage in the forest while he went off to hunt demonic beasts.

"How can he be so at ease? Leaving a delicate beauty like me in the forest, and on the surface, I only have the cultivation of a Third-Grade Martial Apprentice. Isn't he afraid that when he returns, I’ll have been reduced to a pile of gnawed bones?"

"He really doesn't know how to cherish a lady."

"He’s far too bold!"

Although she complained internally, on the surface, she had to act terrified and uneasy, curling up in the carriage, not daring to move.

She only prayed: Please, no fierce beasts. Otherwise, I’ll truly be exposed.

...

Fang Che moved through the dense forest like a ghost, not even causing a leaf to rustle. His targets were the demonic beasts in the forest—those below the Sixth Grade!

A First-Grade beast was worth one credit for a hundred cores; Second-Grade, fifty cores for one credit; Third-Grade, ten cores for one credit; Fourth-Grade, two cores for one credit; Fifth-Grade, one core for two credits; Sixth-Grade, one core for twenty credits.

But a Sixth-Grade beast was roughly equivalent to the combat power of a Fifth-Grade Martial Master.

As for Seventh-Grade... *cough*, he didn't want to think about it. Once one appeared, he should prepare to become fertilizer.

Fang Che’s goal was not the First, Second, or Third Grade. That was too slow.

So, he headed straight into the depths of the jungle from the start. He didn't even spare a glance for the low-grade beasts startled by his presence.

However, the deeper he went, the more Fang Che felt that something was wrong. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Before a dense thicket, in the middle of a dense cluster of grass, Fang Che suddenly stopped. He looked at the shrubs, the grass, and the surrounding trees; that feeling of "something is wrong" grew stronger.

But he couldn't say what was wrong. He began to ponder.

If there was a feeling, there must be a reason. But where was it? He focused his mind, looking at every blade of grass, every shrub, and every tree.

The abnormality was in the environment, but where?

After a long time, a flash of inspiration hit his brain, and he suddenly remembered the two men who had tried to rob him.

Because of those two, Fang Che had paid extra attention to the environment. At that time, those two had stood under large, thick trees with glossy, fleshy leaves.

Looking at the ones before him now, although the shrubs grew vigorously, both the trees and the grass had very thin leaves. They weren't exactly malnourished, but they couldn't be called healthy either.

The shrubs were thin, but the bark was mottled, revealing their great age. The surrounding trees were all the same—unlike the massive trees he had seen at the edge of the forest that required several people to embrace, there were almost no large trees here.

But judging by the mottled state of the bark, they were clearly much older than the trees outside.

In the thickets, there were some rotting animal carcasses. Fang Che nudged them; they were thoroughly decomposed, yet the color of the fur was still somewhat vivid.

Fang Che pondered for a long time, surveying the surroundings. Sunlight filtered through, creating mottled spots.

"This part of the forest is strange. Theoretically, trees deep in a dense forest, rarely visited by humans, should be exceptionally robust. But this vast area is the exact opposite. Is it due to the geology?"

No sense of crisis flashed; there was only an inexplicable silence. Standing here, he could clearly hear his own heartbeat. There was a faint sense of dread, though it wasn't obvious.

Other than that, there was nothing unusual.

He hadn't found it. Fang Che let out a breath. He decided to focus on earning credits first; he would consider these anomalies slowly. However, he absolutely could not ignore them.

...

In the shadows, a horned snake, whose skin was almost identical to the surrounding environment, slithered out silently. With a flick of its long tongue, it coiled around two small Second-Grade fox demons nearby and swallowed them.

Just as it was enjoying its meal, a sword light descended, pinning it firmly through its vital spot. The snake went into spasms, its body thrashing violently, shaking the nearby trees. But the sword had pinned it dead.

A moment later, the sword was pulled out and turned into a brilliant flash. *Pfft!* The snake’s head was severed directly. Blood splattered.

Fang Che dripped the snake's blood onto his nameplate and then placed the extracted core inside. A ring of light appeared on the nameplate. The core and blood vanished simultaneously, and a few lines of text appeared:

"Bibo City, Fang Che. Credits: 0.5."

This snake was undoubtedly a Fourth-Grade beast.

"Only Fourth-Grade." Fang Che was somewhat dissatisfied. He immediately rose and vanished into the jungle.

Within a quarter of an hour, Fang Che’s credits changed to three.

...

Sitting on a tree branch, gnawing on dry rations, Fang Che felt a bit heavy-hearted.

"These credits are indeed not easy to get."

Six Fourth-Grade beasts, and only three credits.

And that was because Fang Che had extensive experience in the world and understood the habits of demonic beasts, allowing him to quickly judge where they were hiding based on the environment. This showed that these hundred credits would certainly not be easy to obtain.

"I need to find a pack of beasts."

"Why do the trees and grass across this entire area, spanning hundreds of miles, show signs of malnourishment? Why does this persist?"

Fang Che leapt down from the tree.

Several hours later, Fang Che returned to the carriage covered in blood. Ye Meng was trembling inside. "Y-young Master, are you back?"

"Look at how timid you are," Fang Che snorted. He took off his dirty clothes, changed, and tossed them into Ye Meng’s arms. "Wash them when you have a chance."

"Yes."

After three full hours of grueling combat, Fang Che had gained twenty-one credits. The goal of one hundred credits seemed far off.

He drove the carriage forward for a few dozen miles, then stopped again, sword in hand. Under Ye Meng's gaze, he vanished into the forest in a flash.

Ye Meng noticed that before entering the forest, Fang Che paused, seemingly observing the trees by the road. She couldn't help but wonder: what was so interesting about trees?

...

In the dense forest, young men in tight martial attire could be seen moving back and forth almost everywhere. Some were still locked in fierce combat.

Fang Che quickly bypassed everyone, his body like a sharp arrow, entering the edge of the forbidden zone. Here, there would surely be higher-grade demonic beasts.

Sure enough, in a canyon, Fang Che made a pleasant discovery. A pack of Fifth-Grade Blood-Toothed Demon Wolves. There were over a hundred of them, and that was just what he could see.

"My goodness, that's nearly two hundred credits!" Fang Che grew excited.

The next step was how to annihilate them. After all, the wolves wouldn't just sit there stupidly and let him kill them. Moreover, a pack of Fifth-Grade wolves had formidable combat power, and there must be a Wolf King among them!

These wolves didn't have glossy fur, and they didn't look well-nourished either. They must be very hungry, right?

He took note. The surrounding trees and grass were still the same. They were alive, but malnourished; it seemed this land only guaranteed the most basic survival for these plants. Beyond that, it offered nothing else.

Even under trees where there were animal carcasses, the leaves were not thick or shiny; it seemed those corpses didn't provide any extra nutrients to the plants.

After watching for a while, Fang Che quietly retreated. A moment later, he returned with a bag of medicinal powder in his hand.

...

In a grand hall at the White Cloud Martial Academy, a group of faculty members was staring at a phantom screen. Beside it stood two pillars filled with colorful spirit crystals, emitting a brilliant light and providing pure energy to support the screen.

On the screen were thousands of names, each followed by a credit count.

"There are quite a lot of applicants this year," one professor remarked with interest while looking at the list. "Ten thousand spots, yet it’s not enough; there are still people not on the list."

Another sighed. "I just hope the ten-thousandth place doesn't exceed thirty credits."

The others smiled bitterly. Since the list didn't show those beyond the ten-thousandth place, they couldn't know who to admit.

"In all these years, the most we've admitted was 8,200. We’re still a long way from ten thousand. Don't worry, it won't exceed it."

"Indeed, the person in last place is still at zero points. A full day has passed."

"That's true. From the 9,200th place downward, everyone is at zero. Even those above have many who haven't earned a single credit."

An old man with a gray beard looked up at the scrolling list. "Is the top hundred settled?"

"Not yet. But in the top ten, some have already reached fifty points."

"Oh? Let's see."

Everyone looked at the top ten names on the far left.

Qiu Yunshang: 62.
Ding Jieran: 49.
Xie Gongping: 48.
Huo Churan: 47.
Mo Ganyun: 43.
Fang Che: 39.
Ximen Xuri: 38.
...

As they watched, Fang Che’s number suddenly jumped twice, instantly becoming 43, tying with Mo Ganyun. Then it jumped again: 45, 47, 49... all the way to 91, soaring to the top spot.

It took only as long as a single breath. Then, it stopped.

Everyone was suddenly struck dumb.

This... what was going on?