Master? Young Master!

"Young Master Chu Ming's expenses at Baiyuan Academy are all covered."

"That's right, they're covered."

"That's not what I mean. I mean the master!" Hou Wuchun reminded him again.

"Mm, good disciple, don't worry. I, Shao Pengshu, keep my word. I'll definitely take you as my disciple!"

"That's right. From now on, Lord Shao is your master."

"..." Hou Wuchun couldn't hold back any longer. He stood up, took a deep breath, and said, "Lord Shao, you said that if I could copy the later parts of the technique from Brother Chu, you'd call him Master!"

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried remarkably well.

Shao Pengshu and Tan Hong, who were practicing their moves, froze on the spot.

Shao Pengshu looked at Tan Hong without saying a word, as if asking, Did I say that?

Tan Hong returned an uncertain look: Lord Shao, I think you did.

Could such a thing be true?!

From the corner of his eye, Shao Pengshu looked through the curtain toward the carriage. His face was tense, his expression complicated.

The technique on this sheet of paper didn't just continue the portion Hou Wuchun had brought out—it also carried a far deeper martial intent.

What did that mean?

It meant that the young master sitting inside the carriage—the one he'd been earnestly advising all this time—had at least reached mastery in Tiger Python Force, if not perfection.

In other words, this young master hadn't been afraid to practice Tiger Python Force in front of them. He'd simply learned a more advanced force technique and didn't want to demonstrate it in front of them.

He recalled asking Chu Ming about it earlier and hearing that he'd only practiced for a few days, then stopped. Could this young master have meant that he'd only practiced Tiger Python Force for a few days before moving on to this technique, which was even more advanced?

And then there was what he himself had said...

In an instant, Shao Pengshu's expression grew even more troubled.

But thankfully, it was only a somewhat more advanced force technique, not the Body Forging Technique. He could accept that...

Shao Pengshu reassured himself this way, then looked up, cleared his throat, and said in a solemn tone, "It's about time. We should get back on the road."

As he spoke, he pulled Hou Wuchun down and leaped onto the carriage himself, casually picking up the whip and reins.

If Tan Hong hadn't caught him, Hou Wuchun would have landed face-first on the ground.

"Lord Shao, didn't you just say you wanted to switch carriages with me?" Tan Hong looked at the carriage, then at the sheet of paper stuffed into Shao Pengshu's arms. He'd jammed it in so carelessly—wasn't he afraid the ink would smear?

Shao Pengshu tightened the reins. "Did I?"

"Lord Shao said Hou Wuchun was your disciple and that you wanted to take him along personally," Tan Hong added.

Shao Pengshu's hand paused on the reins. He leaned back slightly. "Hyah!"

By that logic, my master's supposed to take me along, too...

Baiyuan County, West City.

Two carriages rolled along the wide stone-paved road. Rows of buildings lined either side, most of them large compounds. Beyond the courtyard walls, upturned eaves rose above the rooftops, their tiles a blue-gray.

Few pedestrians were on the road, and most wore scholars' robes.

This was the famous academy district of Baiyuan County, where Baiyuan Academy stood.

The two carriages drew plenty of stares, many of them tinged with disgust.

The academy district was usually quiet, even on the streets. The sound of carriage wheels rolling over stone was especially grating in such a place.

But when the onlookers saw the drivers wearing the Flying Fish Robes of the Criminal Defense Division, they hurriedly averted their eyes. Some even retreated to the roadside, not daring to look again.

Shao Pengshu drove the carriage to the academy at the end of a street and stopped.

A pair of stone lions stood on either side of the entrance, majestic and imposing. Poems were carved into their pedestals, artfully blending scholarly elegance with grandeur.

A huge plaque hung above the main gate, bearing the four powerful, sweeping characters: "Baiyuan Academy."

"Young Master, we've arrived at Baiyuan Academy." Shao Pengshu respectfully lifted the curtain.

He couldn't bring himself to call Chu Ming "Master," but he no longer felt comfortable addressing him directly as Chu Ming, either. Calling him "Young Master," like Instructor Fang did, seemed fair enough.

Young Master?

The son of some important figure in the Criminal Defense Division?

The scholars watched from a distance.

What was a coarse fellow doing at an academy?!

Chu Ming climbed out of the carriage, holding Poetry, Politics, and Military Strategy and carrying a small bundle on his back.

At last, he had arrived.

"Eh? The book he's holding... is that Poetry, Politics, and Military Strategy?" someone whispered.

"It looks like it. Could he be from one of the towns below?"

"Would the Criminal Defense Division call someone from one of those towns 'Young Master'?"

"Could he be some young master who passed the Baiyuan County Academy Exam and has only just arrived at the academy?"

There were Academy Exams in the towns, and Baiyuan County held its own as well, with more places available at the academy.

"That's possible."

"..."

"Young Master, Baiyuan Academy and the Criminal Defense Division are separate institutions. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to go in..."

"Alright. Thanks for your trouble, Constable Shao and Constable Tan." Chu Ming couldn't clasp his hands in salute while holding Poetry, Politics, and Military Strategy, so he gave a slight nod instead.

"It's no trouble, it's no trouble."

The two had just climbed back into the carriage when Chu Ming's voice came from behind them: "If I get the chance, I'll come find you, Constable Shao, and ask you about force techniques."

"..."

A flash of embarrassment crossed Shao Pengshu's face. He solemnly clasped his hands in salute.

"Brother Chu, I'm heading to the Criminal Defense Division. I'll come see you when I have time." Hou Wuchun waved.

"Alright."

"Hyah—"

The two carriages drove away.

Holding Poetry, Politics, and Military Strategy, Chu Ming walked into the academy under the gaze of countless onlookers. As soon as he entered, he caught the rich scent of ink—or rather, the fragrance of books.

Ancient, elegant halls and towers stood among the buildings. A massive, solemn screen wall of rock bore a landscape painting, its mountains rising and falling beneath swirling clouds and mist.

On either side of the screen wall stood long covered walkways, with flowers and plants growing beside them, lush with greenery and lending the place a distinctive charm.

"Excuse me, where do I register?" He stopped a scholar and asked.

The scholar hadn't seen Chu Ming arrive with the Criminal Defense Division, so he was much less reserved. "Just call me Yan Cong. You've only just come to register, brother? The Academy Exam ended more than ten days ago."

"...Wasn't I allowed to register at any time?" Chu Ming asked.

"You are, but you've come late, so you've missed quite a few classes, haven't you?" Seeing the book in Chu Ming's arms and the bundle on his back, the scholar kindly helped him carry the book and continued, "What's your name, brother? I'll take you to register at the Lower Academy."

"Um... I need to go to the Middle Academy."

"The Middle Academy?" The scholar stopped walking and looked Chu Ming up and down. "Are you sure you've got the right place?"

"I'm sure. The Middle Academy."

"Farewell." Yan Cong stopped helping him carry the book and turned to leave.

"..."

After walking a few steps, Yan Cong suddenly turned back. Something gleamed in his eyes, and a smile appeared on his face. "Tell me your name, brother, and I'll take you to register. How does that sound?"

Chu Ming looked at the scholar and thought for a moment. Giving his name didn't seem like a big deal. "Chu Ming."

"Chu Ming..." Yan Cong's smile widened. He pointed to a path on the left side of the academy. "Brother Chu, follow this path. At the end, turn left and you'll reach a main road. Follow it to the end, pass through a gate, and you'll be at the Middle Academy."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Yan Cong watched Chu Ming walk away, the curve of his lips growing wider and wider, as if something wonderful had just happened.

"Skipping the Lower Academy and going straight to the Middle Academy on nothing but a bit of luck—and showing up more than ten days late, missing classes..."

"Heh heh, the next Academy Promotion Exam will be a fine opportunity."

Students like Chu Ming, who had never attended the Lower Academy, lacked experience. They often became stepping stones for the older students of the Lower Academy in their very first Academy Promotion Exam.