Indeed, in this materialistic environment where the strong survive, too many people seek to attach themselves to the powerful and to money, thus losing themselves.
The truth of that reality was not subtle—it permeated every corner of the world they lived in. Strength dictated status, wealth determined influence, and those without either often found themselves bending, compromising, or even abandoning their principles just to survive. Over time, such compromises blurred the line between ambition and dependency, until many could no longer distinguish who they originally were.
The despised teacher-student relationship, in fact, what is truly discriminated against is that the teacher is stronger and more mature than the disciple. For immature and undeveloped students, it is a dimensionality reduction attack, and the teacher is also the easiest to deceive students' emotions.
It was not merely a matter of ethics, but of imbalance.
When one party stood far above the other—in experience, power, and understanding—the relationship could easily become unequal. Feelings might arise, but whether those feelings were genuine or shaped by influence was a question few dared to confront honestly.
And yet, such complexities were far beyond the grasp of certain individuals.
Only Xiao Wu's eyes were still clear; she didn't understand at all, her mind filled with:
Grow up? Mature?
Oh! Teacher likes mature bunnies who are fair, well-endowed, and have hot, sexy figures!
Her train of thought veered off completely, arriving at a conclusion that, while utterly misguided, made perfect sense to her. There was no philosophical struggle, no internal conflict—only a simple and straightforward interpretation shaped by her own instincts.
"Teacher, I've remembered your words. I will definitely achieve it, and then you're not allowed to use any excuses to brush me off!"
"I will definitely work hard and truly grow up! I will definitely graduate!"
Ning Rongrong wiped away her tears. A woman of steel, she would never admit defeat!
The vulnerability she had shown moments ago vanished almost entirely, replaced by a firm, unyielding determination. Her eyes, though still slightly red, now burned with renewed purpose.
At least, for now, she had another goal!
She didn't know exactly what counted as independent or mature.
But she understood that as long as she could obtain graduation qualifications from the Academy, she would surely meet the standard Teacher spoke of.
In her mind, that became the definition of growth.
Clear. Achievable. Measurable.
She remembered!
Not only Ning Rongrong remembered, but also Zhu Zhuqing, Ye Lingling, Xiao Wu, and Hu Liena, who were eavesdropping, heard it.
Though hidden in the shadows, each of them absorbed Xin's words in their own way. For some, it sparked reflection; for others, curiosity; and for a few, perhaps even a quiet shift in their understanding of the path ahead.
Senior Sister Ning Rongrong, by her own efforts, laid down a standard for pursuing teachers for future disciples of the Academy, and the path to pursuing teachers suddenly became clear!
What had begun as a bold confession now unintentionally set a precedent.
In the minds of these young disciples, an idea had taken root—one that might influence their choices in ways none of them yet fully realized.
...
Far from the quiet tension of Slaughter City, another scene unfolded beneath a vast, open sky.
"Little San, cheer up."
The voice was steady, carrying both authority and concern.
"You are so decadent; let alone surpassing the students of Heart of Fire Academy, even Spirit Hall's pursuit would be enough to take your life right now."
On a mountain peak, the wind howled softly, brushing past jagged rocks and sparse vegetation. Standing there, Tang Hao looked down at the figure before him—disheveled, unsteady, and reeking faintly of alcohol.
Tang San.
Once driven, focused, and relentless, he now appeared lost, his spirit dulled by frustration and lingering resentment.
"Dad, I'm really not convinced. Xin would rather take in scraps like Bell and Xiao Chenyu than give me a chance to learn. Am I really that bad?"
His voice carried bitterness, the words spilling out without restraint.
"That Bell, a good-for-nothing who hasn't broken through the Spirit Elder realm at eighteen, has to punch tens of thousands of times to get familiar with it. How is he better than me?"
"That Xiao Chenyu, when he was at Noding Academy, he was the school bully! He bullied students, was domineering and tyrannical. Isn't my character better than his? And he was a trash who only got a ten-year spirit ring at twelve or thirteen. When I was twelve, I was already a Spirit Grandmaster close to rank thirty!"
"And those last-tier academies like Plant Academy and Tianshui Academy, where did I lose to them? Where exactly did I lose?"
Each sentence grew sharper, fueled by wounded pride.
It was not just dissatisfaction—it was disbelief.
In his eyes, the world had judged him unfairly.
"And, Teacher Xin… he's really so beautiful… so beautiful…"
His tone shifted unexpectedly at the end, almost dazed, as if recalling something that both fascinated and unsettled him.
Outside Slaughter City, Tang Chen used his last privilege as a Killing God to retrieve Tang San from the Slaughter Land.
The act itself spoke volumes.
Even in decline, there were still forces willing to intervene for Tang San's sake—though whether that intervention would guide him forward or merely prolong his struggle remained uncertain.
On the mountain peak, Tang Hao observed his son in silence for a moment.
In that disheveled figure, he saw a reflection of himself from years ago—lost, burdened, and unwilling to accept defeat.
"The more so, the more you should prove your potential. You have gained a trace of the Great Sumeru Hammer's essence from your grandfather. This is the strongest ultimate skill of our Clear Sky Sect; it will not lose to any of Heart of Fire Academy's ultimate techniques."
His voice was firm now, cutting through Tang San's spiraling thoughts.
"At that time, if you use the Great Sumeru Hammer to defeat the students of Heart of Fire Academy, who would dare to look down on you then?"
Tang Hao gripped the Clear Sky Ring, warning him.
The faint glint of determination in his eyes suggested that this was not merely encouragement—it was a challenge.
Tang San's eyes slightly regained focus: "Really?"
Hope flickered faintly within them, fragile but present.
"Of course it's true. The Great Sumeru Hammer is hailed as a miracle closest to a divine skill. Back then, it was by relying on the Nine Rings Blasting of the Great Sumeru Hammer that I carried you, then an infant, and broke through Spirit Hall's encirclement!"