Master? I Think He's a Big Swindler!

Notting City, at the entrance of the Junior Spirit Master Academy.

Old Jack's face was flushed red as he waved the crumpled certificate in his hand, spittle flying as he tried to reason with the young gatekeeper.

"This certificate was issued by Deacon Su Yuntao of the Spirit Hall! How could it possibly be fake?"

"Holy Soul Village? Never heard of it! Innate full spirit power with Blue Silver Grass? Old man, if you're going to lie, at least make it believable!"

The gatekeeper looked impatient, his eyes filled with the disdain of a city dweller looking down on a country bumpkin, and he even reached out to shove the scrawny little boy.

Tang San's eyes turned cold.

His hand quietly moved toward his lower back, where several sharply polished stones were hidden.

Although his Mysterious Heaven Skill had not yet reached its peak, he had a hundred ways to deal with an ordinary person like this who was courting death.

Just as the conflict was on the verge of erupting and Tang San was preparing to stage a classic scene of "don't bully a young man because he is poor,"

Clatter, clatter, clatter!

A crisp, rhythmic sound of horse hooves abruptly cut into the noisy farce.

Following that came a suffocatingly expensive scent.

The gatekeeper's hand froze in mid-air, and Tang San's movements also came to a halt.

Everyone turned their heads instinctively.

A carriage, luxurious to the point of being ostentatious, slowly pulled up to the academy gate.

The white horse pulling the carriage was exceptionally magnificent, and even its horseshoes were gilded, blinding everyone in the sunlight.

The carriage curtain lifted, and a slender, fair hand with well-defined knuckles reached out.

Then, a young man wearing a snow-white robe, a warm jade pendant at his waist, and possessing an impossibly handsome face stepped elegantly onto the footstool prepared by the coachman.

The sunlight spilled over him, as if gilding his edges with gold.

The style of the scene shifted instantly.

If Tang San and Old Jack were a drab, realistic sketch, then this young man who had just stepped off the carriage was a high-definition CG illustration with ten layers of filters applied.

The gatekeeper stared, his eyes wide and his knees beginning to tremble.

He had been guarding the academy gate for many years and had developed a keen eye.

This attire, this temperament—this was definitely a top-tier young noble!

"Young Master."

The gatekeeper immediately put on a fawning smile, just about to lean in.

Su Yun, however, did not even glance at him.

He stood where he was, tilting his head slightly to scan the dilapidated plaque that read "Notting Junior Spirit Master Academy," a meaningful curve playing on his lips.

Then, his gaze fell upon the ragged little boy not far away, whose eyes held a hint of ferocity.

Tang San.

At this moment, Tang San had no belt, no spirit ring, only a coarse cloth garment covered in patches and a face that looked slightly sallow from years of malnutrition.

"Tsk."

Su Yun sighed inwardly.

This was the Child of the Plane?

This was the future Asura God?

Looking at him now, he was just a wild child you could find anywhere on the side of the road.

However, Su Yun was in no hurry to step on him.

Because he felt it.

Just a moment ago, a familiar, pretentious ripple of spirit power was approaching from inside the academy.

It was here!

That man—the man who haunted Bibi Dong's dreams and whom Tang San would eventually bow to—was coming, and he was bringing his own background music!

Su Yun's eyes lit up, and he whipped his diary out from his sleeve with lightning speed.

This was a legendary scene; it had to be recorded!

[Arrived, arrived, this is Notting Academy.]

[Just got off the carriage and caught a good show. A gatekeeper looking down on people, and Tang San preparing to use hidden weapons. Tsk tsk, this plot is a bit cliché, but it's quite interesting to watch in person.]

[However, that's not the main point.]

[The point is, that man has appeared!]

[Yu Xiaogang!]

[He's here, he's here! He's walking over with his hands behind his back and that arrogant, six-kin-don't-recognize gait!]

Look at this look: a buzz cut, a zombie face, and though his cloth robes are clean, they're washed until they've faded to white. His hands are clasped behind his back, his chin tilted up at a forty-five-degree angle, and his eyes hold three parts world-weariness, three parts melancholy, three parts rebelliousness, and four parts indifference.

What an air of a master!

If I didn't know that his pockets were even emptier than his face, I would have thought he was some reclusive Titled Douluo.

Dong'er, what exactly did you see in him back then?

Did you fall for this temperament of his—clearly weak, yet still able to put on such a show?

Or was it that mouth of his, capable of rebranding plagiarism as invincible theory?

Spirit City, Pope Palace.

Bibi Dong was holding a cup of premium black tea when she saw this diary entry. With a pfft, she sprayed the entire mouthful of tea onto the official documents in front of her.

"Cough, cough, cough!!!"

The Pope was choked until her pretty face turned bright red, completely disregarding her poise.

She stared fixedly at the description of Yu Xiaogang's appearance in the diary.

Buzz cut?

Zombie face?

Faded cloth robes?

Pockets emptier than his face?

The image of the high-spirited, talented youth in her memory instantly became a bit blurred.

In his place was the image of a down-and-out middle-aged man in tattered clothes, pretending to be profound.

"This..."

The corners of Bibi Dong's mouth twitched.

Although she desperately wanted to refute it, wanted to defend the white moonlight in her heart, her reason told her that what Su Yun wrote was likely true.

After all, for a Great Spirit Master who could never break through level thirty, having left his family and lacking support from Spirit Hall, how good could his life really be?

"Four parts indifference..."

Bibi Dong gritted her teeth, repeating the words, while the thing in her heart known as a "filter" began to crack and shatter.

The entrance of Notting Academy.

Just as written in Su Yun's diary, a middle-aged man of average build and ordinary appearance, sporting a buzz cut, walked out slowly with his hands behind his back.

It was none other than Yu Xiaogang.

He first swept his gaze around with a look that seemed indifferent but was actually stern, finally fixing it on the gatekeeper.

"Stop."

His voice was hoarse, carrying an unquestionable air of authority.

The moment the gatekeeper saw him, he immediately shrank his neck and retreated to the side like a mouse seeing a cat.

"M-Master, why are you here?"

Yu Xiaogang ignored the gatekeeper and walked up to Old Jack, taking the certificate to examine it.

"The certificate is genuine."

He handed the certificate back to Old Jack, his gaze then falling upon Tang San.

In that instant, a flash of greedy light erupted from Yu Xiaogang's dead-looking eyes.

Twin spirits!

He smelled the scent of twin spirits on this child!

This was a test subject gifted to him by the heavens!

This was the perfect tool to prove his theories!

Yu Xiaogang took a deep breath, struggling to suppress the excitement in his heart, and struck the pose of an otherworldly expert as he patted Tang San on the head.

"Child, come inside with me."

Tang San looked at the man before him, and a sense of trust inexplicably welled up in his heart.

This is what they call "a blind turtle meeting a lucky bean"—bah, ptooey!

No, this is what they call the fate of master and disciple.

Just as Tang San was about to nod in agreement and begin his legendary life:

"Hold on."

A lazy voice shattered this touching scene of reunion.

Su Yun sauntered over, swaying with every step.

Chrysanthemum Douluo was not by his side (Su Yun had ordered him to remain hidden to avoid scaring anyone to death), yet the air of nobility he carried from Spirit Hall still caused the surrounding air to thicken and freeze.

Yu Xiaogang frowned and turned to look at Su Yun.

Upon seeing Su Yun's infuriatingly handsome face and his priceless attire, a flicker of instinctive jealousy and disgust flashed in the depths of Yu Xiaogang's eyes.

It was the natural hostility of a frustrated scholar from the lower rungs of society toward the privileged elite!