A few days later, it was time for the Soul Master Academy to open.
Early morning, outside Lone Grass Village, Yang Yunhai hugged his bedding as he climbed onto an ox cart filled with vegetables heading toward Nuoding City.
In the past few days, his injuries had healed. With the help of Changgong Di handling the paperwork, he was officially registered under the Spirit Hall and had collected his subsidies for January and February. Together with the money the village chief provided before he left, he now had two gold soul coins. As long as he didn't spend recklessly, it would be enough to cover his expenses at the academy for a few months.
But there was a concern. Since Nuoding Junior Soul Master Academy mainly admitted children of nobles, revealing that he was a reserve member of the Spirit Hall—especially as the only student who had joined before graduation—would only draw hostility. With his poor talent and weak strength, he could easily be despised, isolated, or even targeted by noble students and teachers.
So, to avoid suspicion, no one from the village chief's family escorted him. Instead, he traveled with two villagers going to sell vegetables in the city.
"I will repay this kindness." Yang Yunhai whispered to himself, recalling the village chief's parting words as the village faded into the distance.
Several hours later, the cart rattled to a stop at the gates of Nuoding City.
After unloading the cart and setting up a stall, one of the villagers led Yang Yunhai into the city. Asking for directions along the way, he finally reached the academy gates after about half an hour.
"Hm? What a coincidence?" Yang Yunhai paused. In front of the academy gates stood three figures.
An old man and a boy, both dressed simply, and another man in a neat uniform, holding a Spirit Hall certificate while sneering arrogantly.
"What? Not convinced?"
"Your clothes are full of patches. Did I lie when I said you were from a beggar's village? You should just go beg somewhere else! Nuoding Academy isn't a place for just anyone!"
"Get lost, get lost! Hurry up and get out of here!"
He shoved at the old man's chest as he spoke.
Even from a distance, Yang Yunhai could hear every word clearly.
"The village chief did say Nuoding Academy's gatekeepers had terrible tempers. Looks like he was right." The villager beside him clicked his tongue.
"Should we wait and see first?" he added nervously. As a commoner, he dared not interfere with a Soul Master Academy guard, though the insults made him deeply uncomfortable.
Yang Yunhai stayed quiet, studying the boy.
When the gatekeeper pushed, the boy reacted instantly. His right foot pressed down behind the guard's, tripping him, while his palm struck the guard's stomach. With his leg hooked and belly struck, the guard lost balance and fell heavily.
'It really is Tang San. A classic scene.' Yang Yunhai's heart stirred as his eyes moved to the boy's raised left arm.
Even from this distance, he caught the subtle motion—the wrist pushing back a sleeve, the faint arch of tension, then the hand flattening as fingers locked straight.
And the fingers—aimed directly at the guard's throat.
'Damn, that's sharp!' Even as someone who had lived two lives, Yang Yunhai couldn't help but admire it.
Tang San's courage, his thinking—he respected it completely.
If he wasn't mistaken, Tang San had just released the safety on a sleeve arrow.
This was exactly as the novel described. And now, he was witnessing it firsthand.
At the gates of a Soul Master Academy, with people watching, Tang San was ready to kill with a hidden weapon!?
Did he not think about what would happen afterward? What about Old Jack? What about the strangers nearby? If he killed the guard, would he kill them too? And even if he did, what about all the people who saw them on the way here? If four bodies were suddenly found outside the gate, how would they explain it? Run back to the village?
And what if Tang Hao wasn't secretly following? If Old Jack died at the gates on registration day and Tang San disappeared, wouldn't that raise suspicion? Did Tang San think investigators wouldn't piece this together?
'I've only watched a few dozen episodes of Detective Conan and some crime dramas, and even I can see the flaws.'
Tang San was born in the Tang Sect, grew up in a martial organization, and by the time he jumped off the cliff, he was twenty-nine. Did he not learn any emotional control or counter-surveillance? Shouldn't he have remembered the insult, then quietly taken revenge later, silently, in the night?
'But to openly kill someone in public? How reckless can you be?'
Yang Yunhai couldn't understand it. It was absurd.
Just then, his gaze shifted as a man with a buzzcut walked over.
"Enough. Stop right there." A hoarse voice rang out.
"No need," Yang Yunhai muttered, nodding toward the man.
"The man coming over looks like an instructor."
That man was Yu Xiaogang. The aura of depression, the hands clasped behind his back, the melancholy yet prideful expression—he matched the original description perfectly. 'No wonder he charmed both Bibi Dong and Liu Erlong. With those features when young, he probably was good-looking. If he'd been ugly, no way those two would've cared. After all, neither lacked money.'
'As for wisdom and knowledge—those mean little compared to looks and wealth. Looks are innate. Knowledge can be bought.'
"An instructor!?" The villager finally snapped out of his shock. Looking toward Yu Xiaogang, he relaxed in relief.
"This teacher seems kind. He won't trouble that grandfather and grandson, or us either."
He turned, adjusted the bedding under his arm, and said, "Xiao Hai, let's go over."
Yang Yunhai nodded and stepped forward.
By then, Yu Xiaogang had already taken the Spirit Hall certificate from Tang San and examined it. He looked Tang San over deeply, then raised his head toward the guard and said flatly:
"This is the first and last time. If it happens again, you won't be staying here."
The guard cursed inwardly—'Who does he think he is?'—but outwardly he bowed quickly, nodding. Yu Xiaogang had no authority to fire him, but the principal did, and they were friends.
Yu Xiaogang then looked down at Tang San, forced a smile, and held out his hand.
"Let's go inside."
"Teacher, please wait." Just then, an anxious voice called out.
Yang Yunhai hurried forward with the villager.
Yu Xiaogang stopped, frowning at the villager. "What is it?" His tone was cold.
The villager shrank back under the gaze. He had thought Yu Xiaogang was kind, after watching him help a poor boy. But seeing him now, he realized this teacher was strict, not easy to approach.
He quickly released Yang Yunhai's hand and pulled a certificate from his pocket. Bowing slightly, he said: "Teacher, this is a child from our village who awakened with soul power this year. He also has a work-study quota. Could you please take him in with you?"
Yu Xiaogang didn't answer right away. He simply took the paper, glanced at it, then handed it back.
Blue Silver Grass. Innate soul power, 0.5 rank. A trace of disdain flickered in his eyes.
"Follow on your own," he said coolly.
(End of Chapter)
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