“By the way, there’s one more thing to tell you all.”

In the Pathseeker Class classroom, Lu Wu smiled at the quietly seated students.

“A dedicated academy for cultivators will soon be established, temporarily divided into the Combat Division, Medical Division, and Armory Division.”

“As the name suggests, Combat Division students head to the front lines—departments like Evilbane and Demoncleave.”

“The Medical Division is where alchemists train. They rarely fight directly but occasionally assist in hazardous front-line tasks.”

“Teacher Lu!” a student exclaimed excitedly, “Is the Armory Division for crafting spiritual artifacts, talismans, and such?”

Lu Wu gave a steady nod.

Then, voice warm and composed yet brimming with quiet anticipation, he continued:

“In half a month, we’ll hold a Mystic Realm exam. Your performance will guide us in matching you to your ideal cultivation path.”

*Mystic Realm exam…*

Zuo Tian, seated second-to-last by the windowed corner, lifted his head. His eyes turned icy.

*This is definitely my chance.*

*Luo… Qing… Chuan… Now you have no choice but to face me.*

*No one will save you.*

A faint, frost-tinged smile slowly surfaced at the corner of his lips.

... ... ...

Lu Chuning’s hands, delicate as tender reeds, wrote “Mystic Realm Exam” on the small blackboard. She turned, set down the chalk, and lightly dusted her palms.

“So start preparing.”

“A Mystic Realm exam?” Luo Qingchuan murmured, recalling Teacher Zhang Jin.

He glanced at Su Yingsnow—serene, elegant, utterly unbothered.

No doubt she was born for the sword path; confusion held no place for her.

*Zhang Jin… Fifth Layer of Foundation Establishment Realm. Skilled in eerie talismans. Killing him cleanly? Nearly impossible.*

*But with Su Yingsnow beside me? We’d take him down. She defeated Lin Yu—a Foundation Establishment swordsman—at merely Qi Refining Ninth Layer.*

*Her thighs beneath that skirt… pale, smooth… how could I not hold her?*

*…And it’s for her own good. A natural step. I’ll say the demonic art suits my aptitude perfectly—no risk to my heart. My blossoming begins now.*

Luo Qingchuan nodded firmly.

He couldn’t hide it forever. Relief flickered. A decision made.

“Let’s begin guidance,” Lu Chuning said, turning to him with a mysteriously charming smile. “Student Luo, any confusion about the *Cloudscript Scripture of Clarity*?”

Luo Qingchuan blinked. He’d skimmed it—no time to study deeply.

Gently, he replied: “Teacher Luchu Ning, this disciple is dull-witted… confused at every turn.”

Lu Chuning froze. Tiny fists clenched. Anger flashed across her delicate face—then softened. “Alright,” she murmured, barely biting her lip, “Keep striving, Student Luo. I believe you’ll reach Foundation Establishment soon.”

Luo Qingchuan smiled. “This disciple will give his all. Once I succeed, I’ll massage your shoulders and feet without complaint, Teacher.”

A blush warmed Lu Chuning’s ears. She tucked her feet and turned to Su Yingsnow.

Su Yingsnow offered a gentle smile, echoing his address: “Teacher Luchu Ning, please instruct me.”

Lu Chuning cleared her throat, voice sweet and youthful: “Your talent shines. You carry the sword immortal’s destiny—simply follow your inheritance.”

“A sword immortal…” Su Yingsnow lowered her head softly. She cared little for titles. Her gaze drifted to Luo Qingchuan, eyes sparkling with quiet joy.

Lu Chuning’s mood dimmed.

She’d prepared two storage rings—modest space, perfect for beginners. But now…

*No. No. No. Absolutely not.*

The Chen girl was already smitten. Su Yingsnow too. She wouldn’t aid Luo Qingchuan’s charm any further.

Heart sinking, irritation rising, she turned toward the door.

“That’s all for today. You two… have little need of teaching now. Return only when inner demons or bottlenecks arise.”

Alone in the corridor, her bewitching brows furrowed faintly.

Luo Qingchuan rose, stepping out. “Leaving already, Teacher Luchu Ning?”

“Yes.”

Her twin tails cascaded over a heavy black autumn dress. Pale arms peeked from short sleeves; slender calves beneath the hem flushed faintly pink from the cold. Wind tugged her skirt—a Gothic doll wrapped in quiet solitude.

“I’m busy. Many matters await. Farewell.” She smiled. “The situation… seems to be shifting again.”

Luo Qingchuan’s chest tightened. This petite girl bore unimaginable weight.

Half a year since Longxia’s spiritual resurgence. Calm on the surface—but built on unseen sacrifice.

Evilbane and Demoncleave losses mounted. Cultivators like Peony were mere fat fish in a vast sea.

That bar battle made headlines only because of Chen Yanyu’s radiant lightning art and the crowd present.

In shadows, quieter demons lurked—gnawing mortal flesh and souls, crawling patiently toward heaven’s path and immortality’s steps.

Mountain spirits. Urban legends. All turning real.

Lu Chuning, unfathomably strong, carried it all.

He offered a warm smile. “Teacher Luchu Ning… you’ve worked hard.”

She stilled. Bit her lip. His words unreadable—yet something deep within her, tightly strung for years, softened.

*What is he saying?*

Waving a small hand, a gentle smile gracing her divine features: “I only gave you a method. No need for such thanks.”

Her petite form vanished like wind.

Luo Qingchuan gazed upward. Gray clouds hung low.

Autumn rains lingered. When cold filled the world fully, snow would come.

Su Yingsnow approached, hair flowing, head tilted with a budding smile.

“Rain again, Luo Qingchuan. Did you bring an umbrella?”

“I did.” He’d kept one in his system space since that rainy dawn.

Blissfully, she murmured: “I read once: *‘When does the rain in one’s heart cease…? When someone holds an umbrella for you.’*”

In the hushed moment, Luo Qingchuan saw her radiant smile—eyes forever shimmering with tender, crystalline light.

...