Mystic Academy actually had an unwritten rule about putting newcomers in their place, and it was especially blatant in Advanced Class 1. They hit you with a show of force right from the start. So Yan Zhen, just like when he’d first entered Intermediate Class 1, decided to strike first—dishing out a reality check to the entire class. Nothing wrong with that at all.
And besides, this was one of the key plot points. The role-playing requirement was: “Provoke the whole class and set up a duel with Xiao Mie.”
After his bold self-introduction, Yan Zhen found himself surrounded by classmates during the lunch break. Their eyes were all hostile glares.
Most of them were Xiao Mie’s hangers-on. As the top of the Nine Stars Ranking and the young master of the Xiao Family, he had plenty of die-hard fans.
Xiao Mie himself might overlook Yan Zhen’s cockiness, but they couldn’t. Advanced Class 1 was their turf. No matter how strong Yan Zhen was, he had no business coming in hot like that.
Even boxed in, Yan Zhen stayed perfectly calm in his seat. He leaned lazily back against the chair, arms crossed over his chest and one leg hooked over the other. He gave the group a lazy once-over.
“Anyone itching for a fight gets one from me. But you better think twice—I don’t go easy on weaklings.”
Mystic power infused with Gold-Silver Fire surged around his body. Half of him seemed wrapped in a thin membrane of it, giving off the air of a true Mystic Scholar powerhouse.
Their faces shifted uncomfortably. They knew damn well Yan Zhen wasn’t at the Mystic Scholar realm yet, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating.
Pulling off Mystic Scholar feats on Mystic Practitioner cultivation defied logic. It was downright scary.
But among these hot-blooded teens, there were always a few bullheaded types who wouldn’t back down until they slammed face-first into a wall. The word “weaklings” set one of them off—he immediately challenged Yan Zhen.
This was a Seven-Star Mystic Practitioner picking on a Six-Star. Normally, it’d be seen as bush league, but right then? Everyone thought he had guts.
Yan Zhen gave a nod to the guy’s nerve and crooked a finger at him.
“Gutsy. Lemme see whatcha got!”
The challenger flushed beet red, let out a yell, and lunged with a Mystic Technique.
Yan Zhen just planted a foot in his chest and sent him flying back.
The guy clambered to his feet, spoiling for round two, until Xiao Mie’s roar cut through:
“Stand down! No brawling in the classroom. Take it to the Duel Platform if you wanna fight.”
Once he’d reined in his lackeys, Xiao Mie turned to Yan Zhen with a steely glare.
“Yan Zhen, you and I are gonna clash eventually. I’m waiting for that challenge.”
Yan Zhen didn’t back down an inch.
“Your throne at number one? It’ll last maybe a month.”
“You planning to wait till you hit Seven-Star Mystic Practitioner first? Way too cocky.” Xiao Mie oozed confidence. “I’m nothing like Lan Ke. You’d do well to remember that.”
“Suppressing your cultivation? Honestly, it’s pretty dumb.” Yan Zhen couldn’t help adding more. “With your talent, you should break through sooner. Bottling it up for a year or two? Being hot shit in Mystic Practitioner realm ain’t saying much. Think bigger.”
“Aim too high, and you’ll never get off the ground, Yan Zhen.”
“Fair enough. To each their own.”
Yan Zhen shrugged, rose from his seat, and strolled out of the classroom.
Xiao Mie was a real threat. Even the academy’s two Mystic Scholars on the verge of graduating might not take him down.
At Yan Zhen’s current level—and without tapping Gold-Silver Fire—the odds of beating him were slim.
He’d need at least one more star under his belt, plus tighter mastery of a few Mystic Techniques, before he could pull off a win.
As these thoughts ran through his head, Yan Zhen casually claimed the reward from that key plot segment.
【Special Trump Card: Eagle Fist Dao: Activates only when an opponent refuses the host’s demand. The host’s next punch inflicts a submission effect, leaving the target under your control for a short time.】
“…”
Kinda gimmicky, but it looked useful.
Yan Zhen pocketed it with a grin, only to nearly crash into someone coming the other way. He slammed on the brakes.
It was Petty Senior Sister, blocking his path. Was she about to make a scene right here? Yan Zhen went on high alert.
“Senior Sister Xinyan? What’s up?”
Xiao Xinyan held her hands neatly clasped in front of her, fidgeting awkwardly in the pose of a timid young lady.
“Yan Zhen… junior brother, you’re no match for Big Brother Xiao Mie. Don’t let impulse make you challenge him—you’ll lose big time.”
Yan Zhen arched a brow.
“That it?”
“You—you don’t believe me?” Xiao Xinyan sounded flustered. “Everything I’m saying is true. Big Brother Xiao Mie is way stronger than you think. Even a One-Star Mystic Scholar wouldn’t bet on beating him.”
“I’m way stronger than you think, too. Even a One-Star Mystic Scholar wouldn’t bet on beating me.”
“You—”
“Anything else? No? Then excuse me—gotta run, thanks.”
“Wait.” Xiao Xinyan blocked his path again. “I’m here to settle that debt. How much for the pill? I’ll pay you back.”
That pill? Oh, right—the Detoxification Pill from yesterday. The ingredients weren’t pricey, just tricky to refine. Market price was steep, but his personal cost had been low.
“No need for cash. I’m not hurting for it. Just watch yourself next time—no more slip-ups. I won’t play hero then; it’d just get me messy again!”
Xiao Xinyan’s cheeks burned at his words. She had no comeback.
The memory of stripping naked in front of a guy, pleasuring herself, losing control and wetting herself—it mortified her. But deep down, a strange thrill stirred, making her press her thighs together.
Yan Zhen had no patience for tangling with Xiao Xinyan. He wasn’t buying her timid act for a second. She’d been plenty sharp when trading barbs with Mi Xue’er that morning. This was clearly the soft-sell approach: play nice to lower his guard, then own him.
Unfortunately for her, it didn’t hold a candle to Mentor Yu Xuan’s genuine warmth.
Mentor Yu Xuan oversaw Intermediate Class, so her office was in their building—a decent hike from Advanced Class. It took Yan Zhen a bit to get there.
The curtains were drawn and the door shut. He knocked and stepped in to a blast of cool air. Ever fearful of the heat, Mentor Yu Xuan had fired up the Snow Wind Pearl ages ago.
“Mentor, I-I’m here.”
The thought of what was coming made Yan Zhen flush with embarrassment.
“Come sit down already.” Mentor Yu Xuan waved him over. She pulled a lunchbox from under the desk and began arranging the dishes one by one. “Lunch first.”
“Oh.”
Yan Zhen breathed a sigh of relief. He’d overthought it. She was just treating him to a private meal.
Sweet. Her home cooking blew the cafeteria out of the water.
He dropped into her chair, took the chopsticks she offered, murmured a “Thanks, Mentor,” and dove in with gusto.
This meat—so tender. These veggies—so sweet. This fried rice—so fragrant!
“Mentor, you not eating?”
