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Ch143 - Wendao Festival Competition 1. Daily Life




The competition among the Ten Great Academies—the top three could obtain heavenly treasures, and Wendao Academy’s champion could even gain ten points.
The moment this notice appeared on the listening wall, Su Hansheng rushed to Luowu Residence howling and woke up Yuan Qian and Wu Baili.
“I’m going to be champion!”
Wu Baili had a bad temper when woken. Getting slapped on the chest, he angrily grabbed his bow and shot arrows at him whoosh whoosh.
Su Hansheng fled like a rat with his head covered, getting shot until his headpiece was full of crooked arrows.
Yuan Qian yawned, saying listlessly, “Yuanxiao, having dreams is good, but you can’t be delusional.”
Su Hansheng pulled out a radiant sword from his storage ring, performing a set of sword forms in the air, raising an eyebrow proudly. “This sword cuts iron like mud, and my sword techniques are truly taught by my father. I’ll definitely make a splash at this competition!”
Yuan Qian glanced at it. “Your sword is flashy—all show and no substance
”
Su Hansheng casually swung it twice. “My father’s life sword. He let me play with it.”
Yuan Qian thudded to his knees and slid over, hugging Su Hansheng’s knee with shining eyes. “The Im-Immortal Lord’s life sword! Really?!”
Su Hansheng glared at him.
Yuan Qian immediately changed his tune. “This sword is radiant and brilliant, definitely a rare treasured sword—ah! So dazzling, my snake eyes!”
Su Hansheng: “
”
Su Hansheng placed the longsword on the stone table, frowning. “The Ten Great Academies have hidden dragons and crouching tigers. My cultivation hasn’t even reached Nascent Soul stage. Even with sword techniques, do I have any chance of winning?”
Yuan Qian was sprawled on the table, eyes shining as he stared at the patterns on the sword hilt, occasionally flicking his tongue—if not for fear of getting beaten, he’d probably lick it.
Hearing this, he casually said, “Indeed not. Our academy has a sword cultivator who’s already about to reach Deity Transformation stage at a young age. Jianliang Academy also has one who seems to have already reached it.”
Su Hansheng’s eyes widened. “That person from Jianliang Academy—why is their cultivation so fast?”
Even with talents like Zhuang Lingxiu and Xu Nanxian, they only reached Deity Transformation after training outside for years after graduation. How could a current student have such heaven-defying talent that he knew nothing about?
“No,” Wu Baili said calmly. “That Jianliang Academy student has been held back for twenty years for some reason and can’t graduate. He’s too old—probably won’t compete.”
Su Hansheng: “
”
Held back twenty years?!
A deity among men.
Seeing Su Hansheng truly wanted to be champion, Yuan Qian grabbed paper. “Let me list everyone in the Ten Great Academies with higher cultivation than you, then filter through to see what rank you can ultimately achieve.”
Su Hansheng nodded eagerly, watching Yuan Qian write names.
Yuan Qian was familiar with people from the Ten Great Academies, writing seriously with a straight face.
One, two.
Three, four.
Thirty-four.
Yuan Qian said, “Baili, get me another stack of paper. There are too many names to finish.”
Su Hansheng slammed the table in anger. “Why are there so many with higher cultivation than me?! Already over thirty!”
Wu Baili brought out a stack of paper, saying meaningfully, “Does the Young Lord really think he’s been that diligent?”
Su Hansheng: “
”
The Young Lord immediately deflated.
GCJIJ eJNtI Nm WJyzNO shNzJoe, CJ’z gJJy hOyImNymLe qOOAfyq OAA Nyz hONImfyq ge. BLDI EfmC mCJ RCOJyfP gOyJ oNmmJt, CfI mNLJym ENIy’m CfqC JfmCJt. dJ hODLz tJNhC SOLzJy kOtJ OyLe ge mNXfyq IRftfm oJzfhfyJ. aFJy htNoofyq yOE, mCJtJ ENI yO ENe mO hNmhC DR EfmC IO oNye RJORLJ.
Ud ygOTnwOx nwrt Pnw TPgkv Mp WgWwC, bgrvfOx gbgj rfTPrwTTrj.
WCJy kCOyqlDJ tJmDtyJz AtOo ODmIfzJ, fm ENI NLtJNze zNtX. dJ mCODqCm Nm mCfI CODt YD dNyICJyq EODLz gJ ANIm NILJJR.
cDm ECJy CJ ORJyJz mCJ zOOt, YD dNyICJyq ENI Ifmmfyq htOII-LJqqJz Oy N hDICfOy fy mCJ cDzzCfIm CNLL, EJNtfyq ECfmJ tOgJI RDtJt mCNy IyOE, JeJI hLOIJz fy oJzfmNmfOy, CNyzI AOtofyq IJNLI—LOOXfyq UDfmJ RtORJt.
Chongjue looked at him in surprise.
Was he being diligent?
Chongjue slowly stepped forward. Just as he was about to protect his meditation, Su Hansheng’s body tilted and he fell onto the cushion beside him with a thud, fast asleep.
Chongjue: “
”
Su Hansheng drowsily glimpsed someone arriving, yawning with half-open eyes. He simply lay on the floor, mumbling, “You’re back. What time is it?”
“Just past the hour of the Boar.” Chongjue leaned down to straighten his disheveled hair, saying calmly, “Why did you try sleeping while sitting?”
Su Hansheng: “
”
Su Hansheng looked at him meaningfully. “I was meditating and cultivating.”
Chongjue: “Cultivating sleep?”
Su Hansheng couldn’t help but kick his knee.
Chongjue sat beside Su Hansheng, glancing at a stack of papers on the small table. He casually picked them up and flipped through, raising an eyebrow. “These names are?”
Su Hansheng snorted. “People I’m going to assassinate.”
Chongjue made an agreeable sound, not even lifting his eyelids. “Quite a few. Which one does the Young Lord plan to start with?”
Seeing him go along with the joke, Su Hansheng’s eyebrows twitched slightly. “I’d like to deal with them one by one, but what if my cultivation isn’t enough?”
Chongjue smiled faintly at him, planning to hear what insights he had.
Su Hansheng “ha’d” and directly threw himself into Chongjue’s arms, hooking around his neck with a grin. “If I dual cultivate with someone at Great Ascension stage a few times, can I reach Deity Transformation faster?”
Chongjue: “
”
Quite clever.
***
As it turned out, you can’t get fat in one bite.
Su Hansheng’s waist nearly broke, his knees covered in bruises from kneeling, yet he still couldn’t successfully reach Nascent Soul stage before the Ten Great Academies’ competition festival.
Why is forming this core so hard? It’s harder than giving birth.
Su Hansheng took his sword to the festival altar at Wendao Academy and found a martial arena already set up on the open ground, surrounded by staggered tiers of seats able to accommodate thousands of spectators.
Yuan Qian was already waiting there, rushing over eagerly as soon as he saw him. “Young Lord, Young Lord, you’re here!”
Su Hansheng was baffled. “Why are you being so attentive? Did you take the wrong medicine?”
Today Yuan Qian was dressed dazzlingly, a yellow robe gleaming in the sunlight. Standing close, Su Hansheng was nearly blinded—Yuan Qian’s coming-of-age ceremonial robe had never been this ostentatious.
Yuan Qian coughed.
Wu Baili said in a cold, deadpan tone, “He was so excited last night he didn’t sleep at all. Didn’t you hear him doing boxing routines in the courtyard?”
“No,” Su Hansheng answered offhandedly, “I was dual cultivating in the Buddhist hall.”
Yuan Qian and Wu Baili: “
”
Wu Baili expressionlessly covered one ear, tilting his head and smacking it, as if trying to shake that sentence out of his brain.
Is this the kind of thing you can just say out loud?!
Unusually, Yuan Qian didn’t comment on the absurdity, instead latching onto Su Hansheng’s arm with excitement. “Young Lord, are you going to see the Immortal Lord? Oh my, you must be tired after walking all this way—do you need this old servant to carry you? You won’t feel a thing!”
Su Hansheng: “
”
No wonder he’s being so diligent—clearly, it’s because he wants to see Su Xuanlin.
The Three Realms paint the Immortal Lord as a transcendent legend, but to Su Hansheng the reality of his troublemaking dad is totally different—a disconnect he finds amusing.
But since Yuan Qian had mentioned it so much, Su Hansheng didn’t want to dampen his mood and nodded, leading them toward the Dean’s spiritual retreat.
Even Wu Baili, normally indifferent, immediately got up and followed closely.
Su Hansheng warned, “Keep in mind—my dad is nothing like those poetic descriptions
what was it, ‘rosy clouds and moonlike charm’? He doesn’t live up to any of the pretty words. You two are about to be disappointed.”
Yuan Qian nodded vigorously. “Seeing the Young Lord is enough to guess what kind of immortal your lord father is, don’t worry.”
Su Hansheng: “?”
Su Hansheng frowned. “What do you mean? Are you throwing shade at me?”
“Absolutely not!” Yuan Qian replied solemnly. “I’m complimenting the Young Lord.”
Su Hansheng shot him a look, but still led them into Su Xuanlin’s spiritual retreat.
Su Hansheng knew full well what kind of person Su Xuanlin was, expecting to find him lounging around, eating snacks and reading novels. But as soon as he stepped through the door, he froze.
The retreat, whoever arranged it, was nothing like Su Xuanlin’s usual flashy style—it was refined and elegant in every detail, with a tiny incense burner sending up a thin, fragrant wisp.
Su Xuanlin, dignified in blue robes, sat by a small table, every gesture exuding understated nobility. Glancing up at Su Hansheng, he gracefully set down his cup and smiled faintly: “Yuanqiu, you’re here.”
Su Hansheng: “?”
Who are you and where’s my dad?!
Su Hansheng stared in disbelief, convinced his father must have been possessed.
Behind him, Yuan Qian and Wu Baili also froze at the sight of such a refined and composed Immortal Lord—but then hurriedly bowed.
“Greetings, Immortal Lord.”
Su Xuanlin glanced at them and chuckled, “Since you’re Xiaoxiao’s friends, you needn’t be so formal.”
Yuan Qian was elated.
The Immortal Lord wasn’t as unruly as Su Hansheng claimed; this really was like the image in his mind!
Immortal air, scholarly grace!
The ethereal Immortal Lord said gently, “Would you like some tea?”
Yuan Qian and Wu Baili were momentarily stunned, then quickly shook their heads. “No, we wouldn’t dare trouble the Immortal Lord.”
They just wanted to meet him—they knew better than to overstay their welcome.
Having said their piece, they quickly gave another bow and left.
But as Yuan Qian left, he couldn’t help glancing back.
He saw the Young Lord kneeling beside Su Xuanlin, frowning and apparently complaining, and in that instant, the celestial Immortal Lord seemed to collapse into everyday humanity, his eyes twinkling as he reached out and patted Su Hansheng on the cheek.
Su Hansheng dodged, grumbling.
Just before the spiritual ward closed, that otherworldly Immortal Lord seemed to burst out laughing.
Once outside, Yuan Qian sighed in awe. “The Immortal Lord invited me for tea—my life is complete.”
Wu Baili, for once, didn’t mock him and nodded.
Soon Su Hansheng came dashing out, his half-tied hair now re-bundled, some locks loose over his shoulder, giving a wild look.
Yuan Qian, already in a good seat, waved him over.
Seeing his messy hair, Yuan Qian teased, “That’s a terrible hairdo—are those loose strands meant as a weapon?”
Su Hansheng: “My dad did it.”
“If the Immortal Lord did it, it must be meaningful!” Yuan Qian replied, not missing a beat.
Su Hansheng rolled his eyes, turning his back. “Just redo it for me—I need to look fierce for the stage.”
Yuan Qian was green with envy but dutifully fixed his hair. “The Immortal Lord’s own hair is always perfect. Why does yours look like a dog chewed on it? Trying to frame him?”
Su Hansheng replied irritably, “It was neat, but he suddenly changed his mood and tied it carelessly before shooing me out.”
Yuan Qian was baffled, but then caught sight of a faded bite mark on Su Hansheng’s neck, his mouth twitching.
Now he understood why the Immortal Lord had been upset.
As they finished, a bell sounded.
All around, students from the Ten Great Academies let out a simultaneous, earth-shaking “booo—” in protest.
Su Hansheng’s brain hadn’t caught up, but his mouth instinctively blurted out a name.
“Senior Brother Zhuang?”
This was the sound only Wendao Academy students would make in perfect unison when that dog Zhuang Lingxiu appeared.
Yuan Qian had also finished retying his hair. Su Hansheng quickly turned his head and, sure enough, saw a familiar figure standing on the martial arena.
Zhuang Lingxiu was tall and slender in the ceremonial robes of a Wendao Festival adjudicator. His handsome, scholarly features wore that smile that made countless female and male cultivators swoon. He stood at the center of the stage, nodding slightly.
Below, countless female and male cultivators “swooning” from anger at him all cursed in perfect unison.
“Booo—”
“Zhuang Dog! I must kill you! Today either you die or you perish, ahhh!”
“Ptui!”
Su Hansheng: “?”
Senior Brother Zhuang used to only offend Wendao Academy students—how come after just three or four years since graduation, students from all Ten Great Academies are cursing him together?
What universally reviled thing did he do during his training outside?
Zhuang Lingxiu showed no awareness of being cursed by everyone. He even calmly spread his arms, the breeze filling his wide sleeves, accepting all the curses wholesale. When the surrounding curses died down a bit, he spoke with a smile.
“Thank you for your praise. The Ten Great Academies still have such a welcoming atmosphere—I feel like I’ve come home, quite comfortable indeed.”
Su Hansheng: “
”
Everyone: “
”
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