Qin Ming's Shock and Helplessness

Fang Fan's guardian was a Level 96 Peak Douluo. He himself had become a Soul King at thirteen, possessed five Ten Thousand Year Soul Rings, and his Heaven-Slaying Sword Intent was feared even by Titled Douluo.

Although Qin Ming was a genius, becoming a Soul Emperor at thirty-one was indeed exceedingly rare across the continent. But compared to Fang Fan, he truly did not measure up.

"What did you say?

"How dare you disrespect Teacher Qin Ming!"

One team member immediately exploded in fury, stepping forward with anger written all over his face.

"Teacher Qin Ming is a Level 61 Soul Emperor. He cultivated to the Soul Emperor realm at thirty-one—he is a genius among geniuses across the entire continent!

"For your drunkard Fang Fan to catch Teacher Qin Ming's eye is an honor for him!"

"Exactly! Why aren't you kneeling and thanking Teacher Qin Ming?"

Another team member chimed in, his tone filled with indignation.

To these Imperial Fighting Team One members, Qin Ming was their most respected teacher and the role model they took pride in. They would never allow anyone to insult him.

Fang Fan turned a deaf ear to their noisy argument.

He merely tilted his head and opened his mouth toward Zhu Zhuqing.

"Wine."

Zhu Zhuqing pulled out the stopper and brought the mouth of the flask to his lips. Amber liquor flowed into his mouth.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he let out a satisfied sigh.

Then he tilted his head and rested it against her shoulder again.

Taking a disciple?

Acknowledging a master?

He had not the slightest interest in such things.

"A Soul Emperor wants to take Fang Fan as a disciple? You truly are dreaming."

Ning Rongrong lifted her chin slightly. There was no harshness in her tone, only the calm composure of someone stating a fact.

"Even my Grandpa Sword isn't qualified to take him as a disciple.

"Where did you get such confidence?"

The moment her words fell, the training ground suddenly went silent.

Grandpa Sword—Sword Douluo Chen Xin, a Level 96 Peak Douluo. His Seven Killing Sword shook the world, and he stood at the very peak of the Soul Master world.

Even he was not qualified to take this drunken boy as a disciple? Then Qin Ming, a mere Level 61 Soul Emperor, could not even touch the threshold.

Qin Ming froze.

His originally gentle, confident smile stiffened at the corners of his mouth, and a trace of bewildered disbelief appeared in his eyes.

He had thought this boy merely possessed extraordinary talent. As a Soul Emperor, offering an olive branch on his own initiative had already been an enormous show of sincerity and favor.

But Ning Rongrong's words made him suddenly realize that he might have completely misjudged the boy's standing. Even Sword Douluo was not qualified—then just who was Fang Fan?

Ning Rongrong did not explain further, but everyone present could see the confidence behind her words.

Du Busi—the old man in green robes who had sent Dugu Bo flying with one slap and forced Prince Xue Xing to kneel and kowtow through sheer pressure alone—

A Level 96 Peak Douluo whose strength was so tyrannical that even Xue Ye had swallowed the hatred of losing his son.

Yet before Fang Fan, such a peerless powerhouse could only respectfully address him as "My Lord." The salute he gave was a cupped-fist salute, not one of condescension.

A guardian was not a master.

Then someone capable of being Fang Fan's master truly had to stand at a level higher than a Peak Douluo.

Qin Ming fell silent. A rare trace of ashamed dejection appeared on his usually high-spirited face.

He suddenly felt that what he had said earlier really had been too presumptuous.

The team members also fell silent.

Yu Tianheng sat at the edge of the field while a healer wrapped bandages around him.

His arms were still trembling faintly, whether from the shock of that sword strike or from Ning Rongrong's words, he did not know.

He had thought that even if he could not win, he could at least endure a few exchanges. In the end, he had not even withstood a single move.

He had thought Teacher Qin Ming's offer to take Fang Fan as a disciple was an honor for Fang Fan. In the other party's eyes, however, it did not even reach the threshold.

What made his expression turn even uglier was that Dugu Yan had not come over to support him—

She stood at the edge of the field, her emerald snake eyes fixed on Fang Fan's direction. She had not even glanced his way once.

He gritted his teeth inwardly.

This Fang Fan was far too arrogant. No matter how strong he was, he should not have said in public that Teacher Qin Ming was unqualified, nor should he have ground the pride of Imperial Fighting Team One into the dirt again and again.

He would definitely find an opportunity to settle this score—

When Qin Ming turned and left the training ground, his footsteps were far heavier than when he had arrived.

He walked down the tree-lined path in Heaven Dou Royal Academy, where parasol trees had been planted on both sides.

Fallen leaves rustled beneath his feet, while sunlight filtered through the gaps in the branches and leaves, casting mottled shadows over his dark-blue teacher's robe.

Ning Rongrong's words still pierced his heart like a thorn—

Even Sword Douluo was not qualified.

No matter how he thought about it, he could not understand how a boy of thirteen or fourteen—

Could have made even a Level 96 Peak Douluo serve only as his guardian.

He pushed open the heavy oak door to the Education Committee offices, crossed the corridor carpeted in dark red, and stopped before Meng Shenji's office.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Meng Shenji's voice came from inside, old yet steady.

Qin Ming pushed the door open and entered.

Meng Shenji sat behind a rosewood desk, his thin frame outlined by a faint golden glow from the sunlight streaming through the window.

He held an open dossier in his hand. His reading glasses had slipped to the tip of his nose. He raised his eyelids and glanced at Qin Ming, then set down the dossier, removed his glasses, and rubbed his brow with two fingers.

"Chief Education Committee Member, I want to take Fang Fan as my disciple."

Qin Ming walked up to the desk, his tone earnest and sincere, even carrying a rare hint of urgency.

"His talent is too outstanding—I truly don't want to give up on him."

Meng Shenji did not answer immediately.

He folded his reading glasses and placed them in their case, then closed the dossier and pushed it aside.

Then he raised his still-sharp eyes to look at the teacher he prized most and slowly shook his head.

"You can think about it.

"But you don't have the ability to be Fang Fan's teacher."

Qin Ming's mouth twitched slightly as he asked unwillingly.

"Yu Tianheng and Dugu Yan lost, didn't they?"

"They lost."

Meng Shenji's tone was as calm as if he were discussing the weather.

"Neither of them could withstand even one move from Fang Fan."

"Yes, both lost in one move."

As Qin Ming spoke of this, his tone unconsciously carried a trace of undisguised admiration.

"Dugu Yan's Jade Phosphorous Serpent Venom did not even touch the corner of his clothes, and Yu Tianheng could not withstand even a single sword strike. Chief Education Committee Member, in all my years of teaching, this is the first time I've seen such a genius—"

"I'm not qualified. Do you think you are?"

Meng Shenji interrupted him. His voice was not loud, yet it was like a bucket of cold water poured over Qin Ming's head.

"Stop dreaming.

"This boy is too monstrous—

"He can even withstand one or two attacks from Poison Douluo Dugu Bo head-on.

"Can you do that?"

Qin Ming's pupils suddenly contracted. He stood frozen in place, opening and closing his mouth several times before finally forcing out a sentence.

"How is that possible?

"Poison Douluo—he's a Titled Douluo!"

Of course he knew Dugu Bo, the consecrated elder of Heaven Dou Royal Academy, a Level 91 Titled Douluo and the possessor of the Jade Phosphorous Serpent Emperor martial soul.

For a thirteen-year-old boy to withstand attacks from a Titled Douluo head-on had already surpassed everything he knew about the Soul Master system.

Between a Soul King and a Titled Douluo lay the chasm from Level 60 to Level 90.

It was an abyss, an iron law, an absolute gap that no genius could cross.