What's the Point of Going to the Academy?

Shen Long's laughter boomed across the training ground like a great bell. As he looked at the Martial Soul Fusion Skill Shen Lian had just unleashed, his clouded eyes were filled with gratification and amazement.

On the ground, the trench half a zhang deep still gave off wisps of green smoke. The surrounding bluestone tiles had all cracked, showing just how powerful that attack had been.

Then Shen Long said with a hearty laugh:

"Hahaha! I never expected it, grandson. Your two Martial Souls actually complement each other and can unleash such tremendous power."

The old man's voice carried undisguised pride as his callused palm slapped heavily onto Shen Lian's shoulder.

Nearby, Shen Meng and Xu Ningxin held each other tightly, tears glistening in the corners of their eyes.

As his parents, they knew better than anyone how formidable their son's talent was.

From the shock of awakening Twin Martial Souls, to consuming Whale Rubber, to absorbing an eight-hundred-year Spirit Ring.

Now, as they watched Shen Lian's talent blossom, their hearts were filled with indescribable joy.

On the training ground, the tea brought by the maids steamed in the air, mingling with everyone's laughter. Shen Mansion was immersed in a festive atmosphere.

Time flew by, and several days passed in the blink of an eye.

Morning sunlight streamed through the carved window lattice and fell across Shen Lian's practice blade, reflecting a cold gleam.

Over the past few days, he had immersed himself in familiarizing himself with his Martial Souls and soul skills. What had initially been awkward had become effortless, and every swing of his blade now carried a rhythm.

As he finished the final move, "Cloud-Breaking Slash," the blade sliced through the morning mist, startling the white pigeons beneath the eaves into flapping toward the sky.

Just as Shen Lian prepared to return to his room, he suddenly heard familiar footsteps behind him.

Turning around, he saw his grandfather, Shen Long, slowly approaching with a dragon-headed cane.

The dark-patterned brocade robe on the old man swayed gently in the wind, while the Duke Protector's token at his waist glinted coldly beneath the sunlight, radiating authority.

Then Shen Long said to Shen Long:

"Xiao Lian, you've absorbed your first Spirit Ring now."

Shen Long's voice carried an unquestionable steadiness as he continued:

"Are you planning to attend Sun-Moon Royal Primary Academy, or stay home and let me teach you how to cultivate your Martial Soul? As for Martial Soul knowledge, you can study it yourself or ask me or your parents."

Shen Lian paused slightly and unconsciously tightened his grip on the long blade in his hand.

Having transmigrated here, he had never held much expectation for academy life in this world.

The thought of spending his days among a group of children whose minds had yet to mature stirred a faint resistance within him.

Besides, the Super Douluo standing before him, at the peak of the continent, was his greatest support.

"Grandfather, I'll stay home."

Shen Lian's gaze was firm as he continued:

"With a Super Douluo like you teaching me, you'll definitely be far better than the academy's teachers."

Shen Lian bowed slightly, his words filled with sincerity, then continued:

"With your attainments, Grandfather, and Shen Mansion's resources, I can easily obtain any Martial Soul knowledge I want to learn. There's really no need to attend an academy."

Shen Long stroked his beard and laughed, his eyes full of approval.

"It's fine if you don't want to go. To be honest, I don't want you to go either. Could they possibly teach you better than I can?"

There was a trace of pride in the old man's tone as he said to Shen Lian:

"If His Majesty hadn't asked you to go yesterday—His Majesty being your maternal grandfather, Xu Tianxiang—I wouldn't even have come to ask you. Now that you've said you don't want to go, I have an answer to give His Majesty."

"Grandfather, was it my maternal grandfather who wanted me to attend the academy?"

Shen Lian's heart stirred, and he pressed for an answer.

Shen Long nodded, his expression turning serious.

"His Majesty's main reason for wanting you to attend the academy is that your cousin, the Crown Prince's son, is also studying there."

Shen Long sighed softly, then said to Shen Lian:

"After learning of your talent, His Majesty wanted you to join the academy and build a good relationship with him. The situation at court is delicate now. His Majesty hopes that you royal descendants can support one another."

Shen Lian frowned slightly, growing even more reluctant.

In his view, socializing for political purposes like this was far too utilitarian.

What he wanted more was to focus on his own cultivation and grow stronger step by step.

"Grandfather, I have made up my mind."

He straightened his back, his eyes unwavering.

Shen Long looked at his grandson with satisfaction and patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Xiao Lian. If you don't want to go, I'll speak to His Majesty. I believe your maternal grandfather won't force you to attend either."

The old man turned to look in the direction of the distant Imperial Palace, his gaze profound as he continued:

"The path of cultivation should follow one's heart. As long as I'm here, no one can force you to do something you dislike."

As Shen Lian looked at his grandfather's back, warmth surged through his heart.

At that moment, he became even more determined to cultivate at home. He also silently swore that, under his grandfather's guidance, he would carve out a world of his own.

Just as Shen Lian was about to leave and return to his room, he turned to go. The hem of his robe had barely swept across the bluestone tiles of the training ground when Shen Long's aged yet powerful voice called him back.

"Oh, right, Xiao Lian."

Shen Long rubbed the token at his waist, his gaze drifting toward the eagle circling in the sky, then continued speaking to Shen Lian:

"The next time I enter the Imperial Palace, His Majesty wants me to bring you along. Your maternal grandfather said that he hasn't seen you since you awakened your Martial Soul, and he wants to meet you."

There was some helplessness in the old man's words, but he could not conceal the importance he placed on familial ties within the royal bloodline.

Shen Lian lowered his eyes and nodded, the hem of his black robe swaying lightly with the movement.

The transmigrator's soul had lain dormant within this young body for a long time. Shen Lian also somewhat missed the emperor who was his maternal grandfather and whom he had not seen in a long while, because ever since Shen Lian had become aware, the man had always treated him well.

As Shen Long finished speaking, a falling ginkgo leaf on the training ground happened to land on his shoulder, like a silent urging.

"Your grandson understands."

He cupped his hands in salute. As he turned away, he caught Shen Long's gaze fixed on his retreating back. It was like warm winter sunlight, making his steps pause for a moment.

Upon returning to his chambers, ambergris drifted from the gilded incense burner.

Shen Lian removed his sweat-soaked training clothes. The bronze mirror reflected the lean yet powerful body of a youth, while the Martial Soul mark on his palm faintly burned.

When he sat cross-legged on a cloud-patterned cushion and circulated his Soul Power, moonlight outside climbed the carved window lattice, coating his body in a layer of silver.

Three days quietly passed. The flow of Soul Power through his meridians became increasingly smooth, until the seventy-second circulation ended and a clear morning bell rang out from the direction of the Martial Arts Arena.

Shen Lian gripped his blade and prepared to leave, only to see Shen Long standing at the end of the corridor with his hands behind his back. Golden threads on his python robe embroidered the pattern of a Heaven-Swallowing Python, gleaming coldly in the morning light.

Then Shen Long said to Shen Long:

"Xiao Lian, come to the Imperial Palace with me today. I happen to be making a trip there."

Behind the old man stood eight guards in golden armor, holding gilded halberds and standing as still as statues. Even their breathing was so faint it was nearly inaudible.

Shen Lian sheathed his long blade in its Mystic Iron scabbard. The chi-dragon pattern on the hilt pressed faintly into his palm.

Then Shen Lian replied:

"Alright, Grandfather. Let's go."

The vermilion gates of Shen Mansion slowly opened, where a carved carriage drawn by twelve snow-maned horses had already been waiting for some time.

Night-Shining Pearls were embedded in the carriage walls, their soft glow illuminating the gold-thread embroidery on the velvet cushions.

Shen Long lifted the gauze curtain and gestured for Shen Lian to enter first. When he took his seat afterward, the hem of his python robe brushed Shen Lian's boots, carrying with it a faint trace of ambergris.

The carriage wheels rolled over the bluestone road, producing a dull rumbling sound.

Shen Lian looked through the gap in the carriage window. The towering walls of the Imperial City loomed before him like a massive beast, while Mystic Iron arrows atop the watchtowers glinted coldly in the sunlight.

As the carriage passed through Vermilion Bird Gate, the ridge beasts atop the glazed tiles seemed to come alive as they looked down at him. Far away, the wind chimes beneath the upturned eaves of Golden Throne Hall rang softly in the passing wind, like some ancient prophecy.