Starting the next day, the new students' classes finally settled into a proper routine.
Every morning, Zhang Yang and the others had four classes: Chinese, mathematics, Soul Master basics, and physical education. The afternoons were left free.
Chinese and mathematics were easy enough to understand. Even Soul Masters needed a general education.
Soul Master basics covered Martial Soul analysis, the development of Soul Masters, and knowledge about Soul Beasts.
As for physical education, it included a set of fist techniques, a set of leg techniques, and a series of moves tailored to each student's Martial Soul.
For Zhang Yang, the teachers had put together a few simple moves to help him deal with enemies who got in close.
Of course, the academy wasn't the only one concerned about Zhang Yang's close-quarters combat. Zhang Lingyue had also taught him a set of unarmed techniques.
It was a standard unarmed fighting style used within Spirit Hall, suited to support-type Soul Masters whose Martial Souls had no offensive capabilities, as well as ranged Soul Masters who were weak in close combat.
Of course, when an enemy tried to close in, the best option was still to shoot first and keep a safe distance.
But even if an enemy did get close, Zhang Yang's gun wouldn't turn into a useless club.
Did they think "beyond seven steps, the gun is faster; within seven steps, the gun is both faster and more accurate" was a joke?
Compared with an ordinary M14, Lord M14, who existed as a Martial Soul, had far less recoil.
Even without bracing it against his shoulder, Zhang Yang could handle the recoil if he held it at his waist like a shotgun.
Besides, Martial Soul M14 had an advantage no ordinary firearm could match.
It couldn't be taken away from him.
Even if someone grabbed the barrel and pushed it aside, Zhang Yang could manifest his Martial Soul again.
Once he had that move down, he'd be even more confident facing enemies who got in close.
Of course, Zhang Yang learned those unarmed techniques too.
As the saying went, one could never have too many skills. He'd learn them while he was at it.
He practiced not only the techniques taught at the academy, but also the ones Zhang Lingyue taught him at home.
Zhang Lingyue had no grand ambitions. He only hoped Zhang Yang could safely break through to Level 30 and obtain his third Soul Ring.
According to Spirit Hall's research, Soul Masters with only one level of Innate Soul Power had no chance of reaching Level 40 in their lifetime without some extraordinary opportunity.
Level 39 Soul Power was their limit.
Of course, Zhang Lingyue would already be more than satisfied if Zhang Yang reached that level.
A Soul Master with Level 39 Soul Power was still a three-ring Soul Master, and Spirit Hall would provide him with a subsidy.
A hundred Gold Soul Coins a month was no small sum.
And as long as Zhang Yang never broke through to Level 40, he could collect that subsidy for the rest of his life.
That way, even if Zhang Lingyue and his wife passed away before him, Zhang Yang would still have a secure livelihood.
Truly, a parent's heart was full of concern for their child.
On the school field.
"Ha!" "Hah!"
Clyde came to a stop at the edge of the field, his hands clasped behind his back. Two little boys were trading punches and kicks.
This was the sparring segment of physical education.
No matter how well you performed a set of techniques, it was all empty show if you couldn't apply it in a fight.
Just like now: at first, the boys had traded blows with some semblance of form, but before long, they'd devolved into wild swinging.
Of course, they were only six-year-old children. It was understandable.
When one bout ended, Clyde stepped forward. "Teacher Sterling, I'm here to see Zhang Yang."
"Zhang Yang!"
Teacher Sterling beckoned, and Zhang Yang stepped out. Sweat beaded on his face, and large smears of dirt stained his uniform.
Clyde smiled at the sight. "Well, look at you. You're working hard."
"Your technique is good, and you've done well in practical combat. You have an excellent sense of timing."
Clyde nodded with satisfaction. Having a talented student reflected well on him as the homeroom teacher.
He led Zhang Yang aside, hands behind his back, and looked toward the first-year students still in class. "Zhang Yang, do you know why I wanted to see you?"
Zhang Yang thought about it. Lately, he'd been keeping his head down and cultivating, with no time to do anything that broke the school rules. So he shook his head. "No."
"That's true. Ever since you started school, you've been focused on cultivation. You don't even have a single close friend to play with, so it makes sense you wouldn't know."
Clyde looked at Zhang Yang. "Some classmates complained to me that they wanted to play with you, but you never agreed."
Zhang Yang nodded, then asked, "Right, Teacher Clyde. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, of course. It's your freedom, and I have no right to interfere." Clyde shook his head. "But could you tell me why?"
"Because they're childish and annoying. I don't want to be friends with them. I think it's a waste of time."
Zhang Yang didn't beat around the bush. He spoke frankly.
Being mature for his age wasn't against the rules, and neither was not wanting to make friends.
Zhang Yang was over thirty in mental age. He knew what he wanted and what he should be doing right now.
Play house with these six-year-old brats?
He didn't have the time for that.
"A waste of time? Heh, I understand what you mean."
"The teachers on duty have been keeping an eye on you for a while."
"According to several of them, aside from meals and washing up, you spend nearly all your free time cultivating."
"All told, you're cultivating for as many as ten hours a day."
Hearing Zhang Yang say this, Clyde sighed. "Zhang Yang, it's good that you have this kind of awareness. I'm glad. I'm sure Lord Zhang Lingyue would be pleased too if he knew..."
From Clyde's tone, Zhang Yang knew he was about to say "but."
"...But," Clyde said, his tone turning serious. "You need to learn to balance work and rest."
"Cultivation isn't that simple. Here, grab this with both hands."
As he spoke, Clyde turned his right hand over and offered Zhang Yang an ordinary rubber band.
A trace of helplessness appeared on Zhang Yang's face.
Given the context, he naturally understood what Clyde was trying to do.
But Zhang Yang played along anyway.
They saw each other every day, after all. He could be a good straight man and give Clyde an easy way to wrap things up.
"Think of this rubber band. If you keep your head down and cultivate without stopping for even a moment, it's like constantly stretching this band."
At Clyde's suggestive look, Zhang Yang dutifully pulled the rubber band tight with both hands.
"Mm... Right, just like that. This rubber band is your current state. You have to learn to relax and ease your stress."
"If you don't know how to rest, and keep putting pressure on yourself..."
Zhang Yang snapped the rubber band in two without hesitation.
With a sharp "snap," the rubber band vanished without a trace.
Clyde looked at him as if he were a promising student. "Just like that. I'm afraid your body and mind might collapse like this rubber band and never recover."
"Neither the teachers nor the academy can stand to see a good seedling like you, with such perseverance and determination, be ruined and defeated for a reason like this."
As he spoke, Clyde crouched down, placed both hands on Zhang Yang's shoulders, and met his eyes. "So, Zhang Yang, I have a task for you."
Zhang Yang nodded. "Please, go ahead, Teacher."
"Starting today, you need to control how much time you spend cultivating."
Zhang Yang thought for a long while before nodding. "...Yes, Teacher. I understand."
"Mm." Clyde nodded. "All right, get back to class."
Watching Zhang Yang jog away, Clyde sighed. "I hope he listens."
Clyde hadn't called Zhang Yang aside for a private talk on a whim.
In truth, they'd noticed Zhang Yang's condition quite some time ago.
At first, all the teachers, including Principal Beckett, thought it was just a child's brief burst of enthusiasm and that he'd get over it before long.
But to everyone's surprise, Zhang Yang had actually kept it up, and seemed to be getting more and more intense.
Now it was already early November, with December fast approaching. Clyde couldn't sit still any longer. After getting the dean's approval, he hurried over to give Zhang Yang some counseling.
By convention, the academy tested every student's Soul Power Level on December 1.
Clyde worried that if Zhang Yang kept cultivating so relentlessly, he might go into the test full of hope, only to find that the results fell short of his expectations. Wouldn't that be a crushing blow?
Like the snapped rubber band, Zhang Yang's efforts were stretching it farther and farther, while next month's test results would be the final straw that broke the camel's back.
Clyde feared that Zhang Yang might give up cultivating because his efforts "weren't paying off," and decide to slack off instead.
Then he'd swing from one extreme to the other.
If that happened, how could he, Clyde, an elite teacher, and Dean Beckett explain it to Zhang Lingyue?
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