Entering the Academy

Once everyone had collected a sandbag, a man stepped out from the crowd on the high platform.

"I am Chang He, an instructor of the Martial Arts Academy."

"The content of this assessment is to carry the sandbag you received on your back and reach the summit of Sunset Peak before sunset to qualify. Note that every sandbag bears a name. Do not mix them up."

At the same time, he pointed at the mountain behind him. "That mountain behind you is Sunset Peak. Everyone, get ready. The climb begins!"

Everyone surged toward the foot of the mountain like a swarm. Wang Hong carried a fifty-jin sandbag. At first, he did not feel tired, but after walking three to five li, the sandbag on his back seemed to grow heavier and heavier, while his little brother's breathing became increasingly labored.

"This won't do." He snatched the sandbag from his little brother's back with one hand and led him toward less crowded paths.

Then, using an urgent need to relieve himself as an excuse, he slipped alone into a thicket and brought both sandbags into his space. First, he poured out the sand inside, then stuffed them with straw.

The rest of the journey became much easier. By the time they reached the mountainside, quite a few people had already begun falling behind.

A sturdy youth in black carried a sandbag, panting like an ox. His legs were heavy, and each time he lifted one, he could only take a tiny step.

At that moment, one tall and one short figure swiftly overtook him from the side. Seeing that the taller one carried two sandbags while his steps remained light, the youth in black could not help but marvel.

After that, many people saw a skinny youth carrying two sandbags with easy steps, his face unflushed and his breath unlabored, leading a seven- or eight-year-old child toward the summit.

Along the way, Wang Hong also saw someone who climbed even more easily than he did: a youth in brocade robes, walking with his hands clasped behind his back and an utterly leisurely air.

Two youths in blue followed behind him. One carried a sandbag, while the other held a fan and fanned the brocade-robed youth as they walked.

It turned out that this person had brought in two servants. As for the servants' sandbags, they had been tossed away at the foot of the mountain long ago. Later, Wang Hong saw several more people similar to the brocade-robed youth, and he stopped finding it strange.

"Looks like no examination is ever without cheaters."

When they were nearing the summit, Wang Hong slipped into the trees again and entered his space to refill the burlap sacks with sand.

His little brother put the sandbag back on his back and asked curiously, "Big Brother! This sandbag is so heavy. How were you still so relaxed carrying two of them just now?"

"Your big brother has always been strong as an ox. If a tiger jumped out right now, I could punch it to death."

"You're bragging again. Last time, you got so badly hurt fighting even an old wild wolf shedding its fur."

Laughing and chatting, the brothers quickly reached the summit. There were already forty or fifty people there, sitting, leaning, or lying down. In short, not a single one was standing. It seemed Wang Hong had not been among the fastest to reach the summit.

The Wang brothers also found a rock to sit on. After that, more people gradually made their way up. By sunset, only a little over five hundred people had arrived.

At that point, several people dressed like Martial Arts Academy instructors came forward and gathered the five hundred people together. They checked each sandbag and name one by one, then handed everyone a wooden token. With that token, one became an official student of Qingyang Academy.

That night, Wang Hong lay on the bed in his single room, too excited to fall asleep. He had finally entered this legendary academy, and his thoughts drifted wildly, a thousand fantasies blooming in his mind. Back in Wang Family Village, he had thought that living like a wealthy landowner would mean he had not lived in vain.

After everything he had seen and heard these past few days, Wang Hong's ambitions had swelled tremendously. Wealthy landowners were nothing much after all. Xu Da Sha had even shown off over eating a chicken drumstick, yet tonight every person had been given one. Who had shown off? And then there was this brand-new cotton quilt.

Being a landowner could no longer satisfy Wang Hong's desires. He felt that in the future, he ought to make something of himself on the level of a county magistrate.

He tossed and turned, truly unable to sleep, so he simply entered his space. Everything he had now had been bestowed by it.

Excitedly, he flipped several somersaults through the air, then used his spiritual power to control a hunting knife as it danced in midair. He imagined himself as one of the immortals from legend, commanding a flying sword to take an enemy's head in the span of a thought.

This was Wang Hong's favorite game over the past few months. Once he was tired from playing, he would fall asleep. If he slept for several hours inside the space, only a quarter-hour would pass outside.

Wang Hong did not know that his spiritual power was quietly growing because of this as well.

Qingyang Academy was an academy run by the State of Chu. Its main function was to cultivate and supply talent for the Great Chu State. It was divided into the Civil Arts Academy and the Martial Arts Academy, referred to simply as the Civil Academy and Martial Arts Academy.

The Civil Academy was founded on studying the classics written by ancient sages and worthy forebears. It was further divided into many fields, such as astronomy, mathematical arts, agriculture, law, medicine, and more.

The Martial Arts Academy mainly taught internal and external Cultivation Techniques, the eighteen kinds of weapons, battle formations, medicine, military strategy, and more. Some subjects were studied by both academies, such as medicine. The Civil Academy focused on treating illness and preserving health, while the Martial Arts Academy placed greater emphasis on bruises and injuries. Civil Academy students also learned some riding and archery.

However, such lofty matters had little to do with Wang Hong at present. Wang Hong was only learning the simplest set of Cultivation Techniques, the "Basic Eight Forms of Cultivation."

It was not that the academy refused to teach him more advanced Cultivation Techniques. Wang Hong was illiterate and could not even distinguish the meridians and acupoints of the human body. Advanced Cultivation Techniques were all profound and obscure; miss by a hair, and one would lose by a thousand li. Even if they gave them to him, he would not dare practice blindly.

The "Basic Eight Forms of Cultivation" was extremely simple, containing only eight movements. Though simple, it could thoroughly exercise every part of the body. It was well suited for beginner martial artists to practice.

At that moment, Wang Hong stood with his legs shoulder-width apart, feet turned inward in a figure-eight stance. His toes gripped the ground, his anus tightened, his hips lifted, his teeth clenched, his tongue pressed against his upper palate, and his chin tucked slightly back. He raised both hands to his waist, fingers held together with their tips facing forward and thumbs pointing upward, then slowly pushed forward until his palms, elbows, and shoulders aligned. Then he turned his palms and pressed downward before slowly drawing them back.

This was "Pushing Eight Horses Forward," one of the "Basic Eight Forms of Cultivation." Each time Wang Hong finished practicing it, he could feel his palms and soles grow faintly warm. After cultivating for only three days, Wang Hong already felt that his strength had greatly increased.

"Time's about up. It's time for battle formation drills. Being late means getting whipped."

Every day, Wang Hong rose at the hour of the tiger to cultivate by himself for one shichen. Then, at the hour of the rabbit, came battle formation drills, which every Martial Arts Academy student had to attend. At first, they only drilled formation ranks. Later, they would learn the arts of slaughter in battle formations.

By the time Wang Hong reached the training ground, many people had already gathered there.

"Big Brother! Why are you only getting here now? I've been here for ages." His little brother waved at him from afar. Wang Hong walked over. "Little Brother, you're up so early. Did you practice this morning?"

"Of course I did. I got up at the hour of the tiger to practice. I practiced yesterday afternoon and evening too. In the future, I'm going to roam the world with a sword at my side. I feel like my arms have gotten thicker already." As he spoke, he stretched out his arm and gestured before Wang Hong. Naturally, his arm had not grown larger; it was merely his little brother's illusion. He was also cultivating the "Basic Eight Forms of Cultivation." After practicing this set of techniques, the body would feel swollen and full.