Cheap Teacher Strikes Gold

An open, flat stretch of ground.

Lin Feng weighed the wooden sword in his hand, performed a flashy, flamboyant sword flourish, lifted his chin, and looked at Qian Renxue with a smug expression.

"Teacher, feel free to strike. My sword has never known anything but sharpness."

A few minutes later, "Ow! Teacher, go easy, it hurts! It hurts!"

"Teacher, I am but an auxiliary-system soul master, your dear student, please spare me."

Lin Feng, who had been spouting tough talk just moments ago, was now in a wretched state. He gripped his wooden sword, gritting his teeth to block every strike Qian Renxue rained down upon him, howling at the intense pain radiating through his body.

Although Qian Renxue was also using a wooden sword, every blow she landed carried immense force, numbing the web between his thumb and forefinger. His arms and back, hidden beneath his clothes, were covered in a dense web of red welts.

Yet, the sword in Qian Renxue's hand showed no mercy; every strike was fast, precise, and ruthless.

Each movement perfectly embodied the unique, overbearing sharpness of the Angel Clan's swordsmanship, and she did not hold back simply because he was an auxiliary-system soul master.

"Little Lin, your reaction is too slow."

Qian Renxue chided him with dissatisfaction, yet her sword never paused. With another flick, she parried his wooden sword aside, the blade stopping just as it grazed his arm, leaving a faint red mark.

"Bring out the state you were in when you were being chased by that Ghost-Faced Monkey. Stop blocking like a headless fly."

She had never expected Lin Feng to surpass her in swordsmanship, but he at least needed to develop some ability to protect himself.

The next time he encountered danger, even if she wasn't by his side, he would be able to hold out a little longer with the sword in his hand, rather than having no room to even fight back.

Not far away, Flender and Zhao Wuji watched Lin Feng howling as he was beaten, their moods remarkably pleasant. There was not a shred of sympathy in their eyes, only the gleeful joy of schadenfreude.

"Old Zhao, the talent of this kid's teacher is truly terrifying!"

Flender held his unfinished afternoon tea, his tone filled with irrepressible awe.

"At such a young age, it's one thing that his cultivation is remarkable, but his attainments in swordsmanship have actually reached this level. Relying solely on this overbearing swordsmanship, it is rare in the world."

"Hahaha, I don't know anything about swordsmanship."

Zhao Wuji crossed his arms and chuckled.

"I just know that there is finally someone who can keep this kid in check. He's going to have a bitter time from now on, and it feels great."

Just as the two were chatting happily, Oscar and Ma Hongjun returned from their training. Their hair was damp and plastered to their foreheads, and they were panting so hard that their steps were unsteady.

As they rounded the corner, they caught sight of the two figures sparring on the flat ground and froze in their tracks.

Qian Renxue wore a long, gold-and-white dress. Even with a light veil covering her face, revealing only a pair of cold, gilded phoenix eyes, her holy and aloof temperament could be clearly felt even from dozens of meters away.

Both of them stared, their eyes widening, and they muttered subconsciously.

"So beautiful..."

The next second, Lin Feng's miserable wail pulled them back to reality.

The two hurriedly lowered their heads, a flash of irrepressible inferiority crossing their eyes.

Oscar looked up at the battered and miserable Lin Feng, then took a quick glance at the upright figure of Qian Renxue in the field, and asked in a low voice:

"Dean, is this... the new sword teacher who has come to instruct us?"

"That's right, a teacher for swordsmanship."

Flender saw through the little thoughts in the two boys' minds at a glance. He gave a light hum and took a slow sip from his teacup.

"But she isn't your teacher; she is the teacher Lin Feng chose for himself. It has nothing to do with you two."

"That's good, that's good!"

Ma Hongjun let out a huge sigh of relief, patting his little chest as if he had survived a disaster. His chubby face was full of fortune as he muttered to himself.

"Scared the life out of me. Thank goodness she's only Feng-ge's teacher... Hiss! That strike was way too ruthless."

"You brat, you still have the face to be glad!"

Watching his disciple's spineless behavior, Flender felt his temples throb with anger. He was so exasperated he laughed, and gave him a sharp smack on the head.

"With your temperament, this kind of good fortune wouldn't even come your way in the next life."

The swordsmanship of the Angel Clan was a treasure second to none in the entire world; there were countless Title Douluo who would break their heads just to beg for a single move or stance.

Sigh! People really cannot be compared to one another.

Ma Hongjun rubbed his aching head, his little face full of indifference. His heart was filled only with the joy of not having to be beaten while practicing swords, and he muttered to himself, "I am a power-attack system beast soul master. Having the Phoenix Evil Fire is enough for fighting; why go through the trouble of practicing swords and looking for suffering?"

Beside him, the light that had just ignited in Oscar's eyes dimmed bit by bit.

He clenched his fists, remained silent for a long while, then raised his head to look at Flender, speaking in a voice that was not loud but exceptionally firm.

"Dean, I... I want to learn swordsmanship too."

"Well done, Little Ao, you have ambition!"

Zhao Wuji laughed heartily, his large hand clapping heavily onto his shoulder, filled with gratification.

"However, both Flender and I come from commoner backgrounds; we know nothing about high-level techniques like swordsmanship and cannot teach you."

As he spoke, he gestured toward the training grounds with his chin, pointing him toward a clear path.

"If you want to practice, just wait until your Brother Feng finishes, then go ask him for advice. You two are brothers; could he possibly refuse you?"

Oscar lowered his head, a forced smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his heart filled with bitterness.

His big brother had already helped him far too much—the resources for his daily cultivation, as well as those precious medicinal herbs that could increase the age limit of soul rings he could absorb; he truly felt too embarrassed to trouble Lin Feng further for his own affairs.

Three hours later.

The setting sun dyed the world a warm gold.

Qian Renxue turned her wrist, the wooden sword tracing a sharp flourish before she steadied her stance.

She walked over to Lin Feng, who was slumped on the ground, and her third purple soul ring suddenly lit up as she chanted indifferently.

"Angel Blessing."

A pure white phantom of an angel slowly manifested beside Lin Feng, hands pressed together in silent prayer, as soft, holy light cascaded down to envelop his entire body.

The stinging red welts beneath his clothes healed at a speed visible to the naked eye, and even his sore, swollen, and aching muscles were instantly soothed.

Lin Feng hurriedly scrambled over to Qian Renxue, admitting his fault with a sincere expression.

"Teacher, I was wrong. I won't dare do it again."

Qian Renxue casually stowed the wooden sword into her storage Soul Tool, her phoenix eyes sweeping over him with indifference.

"If there is a next time, remember to prepare a real sword in advance."

Little brat, daring to call me a 'cheap teacher' behind my back; you've really turned the world upside down.

Lin Feng shivered, shaking his head like a rattle-drum as he hurriedly pledged his loyalty.

"There will absolutely not be a next time, Teacher, rest assured."

That cheap teacher really has a heavy hand! And she doesn't make a sound when she walks; I must never talk nonsense behind her back again... Thank goodness I managed to bluff my way through this time.

As the saying goes, those who understand the times are heroes; the tides of fortune change, and it is no shame to lie low for a while.

A trace of satisfaction flickered in Qian Renxue's phoenix eyes as she produced a silver storage Soul Tool, its band engraved with intricate wing patterns, and handed it to Lin Feng.

"This is a storage Soul Tool; inside are one hundred thousand Gold Soul Coins."

"What! One hundred thousand Gold Soul Coins!"

Lin Feng's eyes shimmered with golden light as he hurriedly took the ring with both hands, his fingers trembling slightly from excitement, and he couldn't wait to probe it with his senses.

In the spacious, hundred-cubic-meter interior, golden Gold Soul Coins were piled into a small mountain, glittering and shining so brightly they dazzled his eyes.

He immediately gripped the ring tightly in his hand, leaned in toward Qian Renxue, and said with a beaming smile:

"Thank you, my dearest teacher! I knew it—in this entire world, you are the best to me."