Chapter Thirty-Six: Teaching in Another’s Place

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It was still early when Jian Keng returned to the camp. He was in such haste to find Tu Zhu that he even forgot to issue any orders, leaving the assembled demons behind. The soldiers accompanying them hesitated for a moment, caught up to inquire, and only then returned to announce that there was nothing further for the day and everyone was free to rest.

Zan Wubei’s wounds seemed frightening but were not truly serious; his chest and back had been flayed of all skin, making for a ghastly sight. The injuries had been tended to during the journey, but blood still flowed ceaselessly. Zan Wulang glared fiercely at Liuchou several times before supporting his brother away to seek aid from Corpse Walker Yi.

The rest of the lesser demons were unharmed and quickly dispersed, though their gazes toward Liuchou had become tinged with curiosity, no longer showing the same disdain as before. Instead, there was a new gravity and wariness.

Liuchou was about to find a secluded spot to consume some spirit medicine when a shadow suddenly flickered before him—it was Yuan Qin, who regarded him with a playful, appraising look.

Yuan Qin was short, and so was Liuchou; the two standing together looked like a pair of jesters, yet no one in the camp dared make light of them. Even those passing by gave them a wide berth.

“Do you want something?” Liuchou’s tone was indifferent. The fight with the Zan brothers had been his own choice, and he owed no one a favor; likewise, he didn’t want to get entangled with Yuan Qin.

“Just looking. I think you’re not bad,” Yuan Qin replied, then walked away, leaving Liuchou momentarily at a loss for words. Watching Yuan Qin’s retreating figure, Liuchou couldn’t help but find himself amused.

Yes, amused.

Indeed, lately he seemed to laugh more and more...

Turning, Liuchou headed for the barracks, intent on checking in on Qingmei and telling him about the day’s battle with Zan Wulang.

Time always slips by, and people inevitably change, but Liuchou knew well that while change might bring pain, it also brought strength.

Liuchou was well aware of this.

The next day, Jian Keng was gone. No one knew where he had gone; in his place was a frail-looking instructor.

He seemed feeble, always shadowed by Tu Zhu or Fei Fei, exuding no aura or strength at all. He was more like a village schoolmaster than a true instructor.

His helplessness was evident from the start: upon arrival, he accidentally bumped into a squad leader, was loudly berated, and could only keep apologizing, his voice carrying all the way to the demon barracks.

After the morning run, he gathered all the lesser demons and produced a host of tools—not weapons, but instruments. Among them, Liuchou recognized two: a measuring rod and a scale.

He measured every demon from head to toe—height, weight, arm span, chest circumference—and even sketched their appearances on sheepskin, annotating each one.

Then, to their astonishment, he had the demons perform specific actions in turn: long jumps, high jumps, weightlifting, sit-ups—dividing tasks between left and right limbs, and recording every detail.

Some demons tried to slack off, but he caught them instantly and had soldiers drag them out for ten lashes.

The lesser demons could only grit their teeth and do their utmost to fulfill his demands.

A whole day was spent this way. As night fell, he still hadn’t dismissed them; instead, he made them bring out their weapons for soldiers to measure and record their length and weight.

Even Liuchou was getting irritated—this instructor hadn’t even given his name yet, and had tormented them for an entire day. Who knew if he could even teach martial skills, or if all this was a waste of time?

“He doesn’t know any martial arts,” Corpse Walker Yi replied the next day, when a demon asked during a break, “but he can definitely teach.”

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“Then how is he supposed to teach us?” the demon persisted. “If he can’t fight, what are we supposed to learn?”

Corpse Walker Yi only laughed, a meaningful smile on his lips. “I don’t know either.”

And that was that.

When the instructor’s turn came again, he brought out a new bamboo slip, densely covered with writing, and began calling the demons by name.

Almost every demon was issued a new weapon—not for battle, but roughly forged of iron, some even of wood, and some had their weapons replaced entirely.

“I don’t care what you’re used to. While I teach, you use only these,” the instructor said bluntly, brooking no argument.

Liuchou’s staff was replaced with an iron bar, rougher, heavier, and longer than before—a far cry from the one he’d picked up on the battlefield.

Once weapons were changed, the instructor divided them into groups for special exercises. There were no matches, no comparisons—just a number to complete, or else ten lashes.

The time: one hour.

Liuchou was ordered to lift a massive stone lock overhead three hundred and ninety-six times, arms straight each time, no more and no less.

At first, Liuchou found it easy. By a hundred lifts, he was tiring; by two hundred, he was panting. At three hundred, his arms ached terribly, and by the last lift he could scarcely feel his limbs.

After a short rest, the next exercise began.

This time Liuchou had to do two hundred and eight frog jumps with added weight...

The entire day was spent in this grueling fashion. By the end, the demons didn’t even have the strength to sit up. Their muscles cramped, their bodies burned with fever from the exertion.

But the instructor still had the soldiers drag them to the hot spring and toss them in.

Many demons fell asleep as they were dragged, only to jolt awake when plunged into the hot water, thrashing their way to the surface.

But that was all—the rest was simply lying in the water, too exhausted to speak.

After half an hour, Tu Zhu arrived with the soldiers and their whips, driving the demons out to eat.

They staggered or crawled from the hot spring to the mess hall, some unable even to stand.

Most had no appetite after such heavy training. All they wanted was to lie down and sleep; even chewing and swallowing felt unbearable, their stomachs stuffed to the brim, unable to take another bite.

Liuchou’s hands trembled as he forced down a piece of meat, chewing laboriously, swallowing with difficulty. He repeated this, taking almost five times as long as usual to finish just one piece.

He immediately picked up another, forcing himself to eat more.

Few were like Liuchou; most demons took a few bites, then shook their heads and lay down, claiming they were full. The instructor watched coldly, neither stopping nor encouraging them—just a silent observer.

There were others, like Liuchou, who forced themselves to eat their usual portions. Though not many, they were all among those who had once ranked in the top ten alongside him.

Qingmei was nearly collapsed, but Liuchou kept pushing food into his mouth, making him chew and swallow until he finally protested, “Enough, I’ll do it myself, I’ll do it myself…”

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Only then did Liuchou relent, but he still kept a close watch, making sure Qingmei ate as much as he should.

The instructor remained silent.

By the third session, Liuchou noticed the training volume had increased: weightlifting went up to four hundred and seventy-five reps, frog jumps to two hundred and forty-nine. All those who could eat properly after training saw their numbers rise.

Suddenly, Liuchou felt a chill down his spine. Turning, he met Qingmei’s glare, eyes fierce enough to shatter teeth.

Even Liuchou shuddered, then threw himself back into the day’s struggle.

He, too, persevered.

That night, it was the same as before—Qingmei nearly choked under Liuchou’s insistence that he eat, finally surrendering.

Three days later, the scene repeated… but fewer and fewer could endure. Even Liuchou barely managed to complete the tasks, and those who could eat after training dwindled; eventually, Qingmei could no longer manage, not even with threats, for he hadn’t the strength to open his mouth.

Liuchou couldn’t chew and feed him like a mother bird; even he was close to collapsing himself.

And yet, Liuchou continued to grit his teeth and persist. By the end of the month, his training volume had more than doubled, and the fact that he could keep up astonished even himself.

So the regimen continued for two full months, every three days, unchanging.

At the third session, there were still forty-six demons; by the fifth, only twenty-one; by the seventh, fifteen; by the ninth, seven. Into the second month, only Liuchou and Yuan Qin remained. By the halfway mark, even Yuan Qin could go no further.

Only Liuchou endured, taking on the increasing training, barely finishing in time, while the instructor watched coldly, never commenting.

From the seventh session on, it was Qingmei who dragged Liuchou to the hot spring and forced him to eat after each training.

Liuchou refined all the monster cores and corpses he’d secretly collected into spirit medicine to restore his strength after training; only because of this was he able to continue at such intensity. It was then he realized the medicines’ effects had increased dramatically—as if any kind of elixir now brought tremendous benefit, far beyond his expectations.

After two months, Liuchou’s demon power was still only third rank, physique fourth, strength and speed fifth, yet these attributes far outstripped their nominal levels—his bursts of power were astonishing, seemingly doubling in intensity.

Was this the result of the instructor’s training?

Liuchou pondered…

And so the days passed. Other training continued as before, except that Fei Fei began awarding special pills to the victors of his demon magic classes, which greatly accelerated their absorption of spiritual energy. Liuchou tried putting such a pill in the Monster Refining Pot, discovering it was basically a refined demon core, though its effect was much diminished.

He kept this discovery to himself.

Meanwhile, Tu Zhu began to explain the intricacies of assassination, training them point by point, but the four main exercises never ceased.

After two months, Liuchou’s training far surpassed that of the other demons. Where once he had to lift the stone lock three hundred and ninety-six times, now it was one thousand seven hundred and eighty-four; frog jumps had risen to one thousand three hundred and sixteen… Everything was five or six times greater than before.