Chapter 8: Huang Yifan, Disheveled in the Wind

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The crowd buzzed with discussion, many expressing admiration, while some felt a pang of shame.

“Every time I see Lord Meng, I feel like my work is far from done,” one remarked, eliciting strong resonance among the listeners.

They exchanged thoughts back and forth for quite some time before dispersing.

Fang Che had already followed Huang Yifan into a private office.

Only after reaching this place did the turbulence in Fang Che’s heart gradually subside.

Yet, names still flickered through his mind from time to time: Lord Meng He? Meng Chuxing? Fang Zhi’s lifelong difficulty?

And that bell on Lord Meng He’s wrist—the sound was so familiar.

He couldn’t help but wonder about his past life. Could it be someone he knew? A wife? A sister? Or… why did he have no impression of this Meng He at all?

But the name Meng Chuxing felt incredibly familiar and warm…

And then there was Yaoguang.

Yaoguang… Fang Che pondered deeply. Those two characters were undeniably familiar; it was the last star of the Big Dipper.

The Yaoguang star, also called Po Jun.

Brave in undertaking tasks, distinguishing right from wrong, unafraid of tyranny, forging ahead courageously… Fang Che’s mind suddenly branched out in many directions.

Still, the mystery remained unsolved.

But for now, he did not wish to unravel it.

Instead, he wanted to avoid it.

If a single trigger could provoke such a strong reaction, what would happen when his memories truly returned? Meeting old acquaintances again—wouldn’t his response be even more intense?

Moreover, such spiritual stirrings were nearly uncontrollable.

The risk of exposure was too great.

He was not afraid to die. Even if he were, he would not scheme as a mere ant to infiltrate as a spy. It was true he had been prepared to die from the start. Yet if all this careful plotting still failed to eradicate the demonic cult…

He would die with regret.

He closed his eyes, striving to calm his heart and banish the jingling bell sound from within.

He even invoked the ‘Ice-Clear Spiritual Platform’ heart method of Mu Linyuan.

Sure enough, his thoughts gradually settled into tranquility.

In the office.

Before entering, Fang Che had specifically glanced at the nameplate by the door.

“Deputy Mountain Chief’s Office.”

So this Huang Yifan was the Deputy Mountain Chief?

The two figures across were carefully observing Fang Che’s reactions. Lord Meng He had just performed a soul-cleansing technique, so there should be some effect, right?

This boy must be digesting the benefits of the soul-cleansing art.

Thus, the two deliberately waited a moment.

Only when Fang Che opened his eyes did they begin to question him.

“You are Fang Che?”

“Yes, I am.”

“My surname is Lü. I am the Director of Baiyun Martial Academy. As you heard just now, this gentleman is Deputy Mountain Chief Huang Yifan.”

Alone in the Deputy Mountain Chief’s office, Fang Che faced the two senior leaders.

Two cloud-level experts!

Undoubtedly, since Baiyun Martial Academy’s founding, Fang Che was the first freshman to stand alone before two high-ranking leaders on his very first day.

Such an “achievement” was likely unprecedented.

“Fang Che, seventeen years old, external relative of the Fang family at Level Nine in Bibo City, father unknown; apprenticed under the wandering martial artist Sun Yuan, the King of Flying Blades,” Director Lü read from Fang Che’s dossier. “Is this accurate?”

“Yes.”

“In this assessment, you killed over a hundred Bloodfang Demon Wolves along the way?”

“Yes.”

The director set down the file and said evenly, “I know your method of killing; it doesn’t really reflect your true power—this is why I called you here.”

Fang Che pondered and replied, “Indeed, the method of killing only shows intelligence and wisdom. Although somewhat related to strength, it does not represent the entirety of one’s power.”

He smiled slightly. “But I now understand that wisdom does not equate to power.”

“…”

The director’s face darkened further.

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Like iron.

Fang Che said, “Moreover, I believe that reason alone is not why the teachers summoned me.”

The director’s voice was iron-like. “Then what do you think is the reason you were called?”

“I do not know. I ask both teachers to enlighten me.”

Both the director and Deputy Mountain Chief wore expressionless, iron-colored faces.

They hadn’t expected this kid to be so stubborn, kicking the question back at them like a ball.

The director himself did not know the real reason. Although it was within his purview, he genuinely did not know why Fang Che had been summoned.

Beside him, Deputy Mountain Chief Huang Yifan had graying facial hair and a lean build, with deep, profound eyes. If one gazed closely, they would see his eyes resembled the endless stars and vast seas.

That was… immense spiritual power.

At this moment, hidden deep in Huang Yifan’s eyes, invisible to others, was an endless sense of regret.

Throughout Baiyun Martial Academy, he was the only one who had received the “true news” about Fang Che.

Huang Yifan.

The God of Death who had shaken the Northwestern War Zone two centuries ago, now the academy’s top expert—except for Lord Meng He, who was currently only the honorary Mountain Chief with his duties assigned elsewhere.

“Fang Che, you need not be nervous. Today’s meeting is simply to understand you better,” Huang Yifan said softly.

“I am not nervous,” Fang Che replied.

“Good. This is a routine procedure. You arrived earlier than anyone else, so it is only natural you are called first.”

Since the true reason could not be disclosed, a plausible excuse had to be provided. They surely couldn’t say, “We have intelligence that you are an undercover agent.”

As he spoke, Huang Yifan even exerted a slight pressure of authority.

When reason fails, one resorts to other methods.

Fang Che felt as if a towering mountain was about to crush him.

Unlike the gentle warmth from Lord Meng He at the door, Huang Yifan’s approach was thunder and lightning.

Fang Che was drenched in sweat, nearly unable to endure.

He had no choice but to submit: “What the Mountain Chief says is reasonable. I sincerely accept it.”

“Hm. Next, as a student of our academy and the next generation of this continent, you must maintain purity and prevent infiltrators of the demonic cult within the True Path from entering.”

Huang Yifan maintained this degree of spiritual pressure and said, “You will answer a few questions.”

Fang Che stood firm, sweating profusely: “Please… teachers, instruct me.”

“Why do you practice martial arts?”

Huang Yifan was very satisfied.

Under such spiritual pressure, this young fellow couldn’t possibly lie.

If the boy showed any sign of ill intent, the questioning would stop immediately to avoid exposing his identity. They could then justifiably suspend his extra rewards by saying: “Your heart is impure, unable to distinguish friend from foe. Rewards are postponed. Study hard and we shall see later.”

They certainly couldn’t knowingly aid the enemy.

If they knew he was a disciple of the One Mind Cult yet rewarded him generously just because his martial strength was formidable, wouldn’t that be infuriating?

“Martial arts are for protection,” Fang Che closed his eyes, sealed the Five-Spirit Gu with Infinite True Spirit, and answered honestly.

Then, under Huang Yifan’s spiritual pressure, he fell into a dazed state.

“Protect whom?”

“Protect my parents, my family, my wife and children, my friends, my brothers, my homeland.”

“And?”

“Protect the continent! Protect peace! Protect justice! Protect goodness!”

Huang Yifan’s spiritual pressure fluctuated involuntarily.

Damn!

That was even more textbook than the standard answer!

But was this what he should say?

Wasn’t he supposed to say he would slay justice and eradicate goodness?

How stubborn this demon brat was!

The soul-cleansing technique only slightly purified; it certainly couldn’t cause such a total transformation. If he truly were a demon brat, one soul-cleansing technique would be like a drop in the ocean—perhaps even adding fuel to the fire!

Stubborn as hell!

Huang Yifan increased the spiritual pressure slightly.

Fang Che’s current spiritual power couldn’t resist Huang Yifan’s pressure; he collapsed onto the floor, his face pale.

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In an instant, his mind went blank, incapable of any thought.

Huang Yifan waved his hand, signaling the director to leave.

The director left, puzzled: “Mountain Chief, this boy is remarkable. Don’t damage his foundation.”

“I know,” Huang Yifan said.

After he left, Huang Yifan realized a soundproof barrier was immediately set up inside.

He widened his eyes and murmured, “Such extraordinary treatment—could this be the Deputy Mountain Chief’s illegitimate son?”

Inside.

“What do you think of the True Path Demonic Cult?” Huang Yifan asked.

“Slash them all, kill every single one!” Fang Che said through gritted teeth.

“Shh…”

Huang Yifan gasped.

Too resolute.

He couldn’t help but tug at a strand of his beard.

He pulled hard.

It hurt.

He wasn’t dreaming.

This was tenfold spiritual pressure.

If he increased it further, this boy would go insane.

Under such pressure, even he couldn’t lie, nor think properly.

What was going on?

“Then, do you think you are a member of the True Path Demonic Cult?” Huang Yifan pressed on.

He did not believe a seventeen-year-old could endure this.

Not even a 170-year-old could withstand it.

“No!”

Fang Che’s voice was resolute.

“Are you from the One Mind Cult?”

“No!”

“Are you from the Night Demon Cult?”

“No!”

“Are you from the Heavenly God Cult?”

“No!”

“…”

“Are you from the True Path Demonic Cult?”

“No!”

“What is your purpose at Baiyun Martial Academy?”

“To learn martial arts and one day slay the True Path Demonic Cult.”

“Who are you?!”

“I am… I am the Protector…”

Unable to bear it, Fang Che fainted.

Blood vessels burst simultaneously at his seven orifices, his expression grim and severe.

Across from him, Huang Yifan sat stunned.

His eyes full of existential doubt.

He had clearly seen Fang Che’s mind go blank under pressure and answer instinctively. In such a state, even immortals could not fake it.

Huang Yifan rubbed his head and tugged at his beard again; another strand came loose.

“Damn… That hurts!”

He raised his hand, glaring at the gray whisker, grimacing.

“What the hell… is going on?!”

“This is clearly a good kid! What nonsense did that idiot send me?!”

For the first time, Huang Yifan was thoroughly baffled and bewildered.

Where had things gone wrong?