After this battle, Fang Qianyuan went from a penniless nobody to the Training Institute's foremost genius, earning the attention and nurturing he deserved.
With the year's end approaching and the Sect Grand Tournament imminent, the entire Training Institute was actively preparing for the event. Naturally, they wasted no time delivering his rewards, hoping he would make full use of them to strengthen himself and win the institute a higher placing and greater honor.
Before any of that, however, the first thing Fang Qianyuan had to do was recover properly from his injuries.
In the Quieting Hall, southwest of the Training Institute.
Fang Qianyuan lay in a sickbed, reeking of medicine, his waist and abdomen wrapped so tightly in bandages that he looked like an enormous sticky rice dumpling.
Beside his bed stood Mi Lu and the other duty disciples of the Quieting Hall, along with Ding Long, Wei Wen, Wei Wu, Ning Yuerong, and the others who had come to visit him.
"Junior Brother Fang, just stay here and rest for the next few days. Otherwise, if you're left with some hidden complication that affects your future, it'll be too late for regrets," Mi Lu urged.
"Junior Brother Fang, don't rush back into cultivation over the next few days. With your current strength, you can already bring honor to the institute at the Sect Grand Tournament," Ding Long added.
Hearing this, Fang Qianyuan asked curiously, "With my current strength, could I take first place in the Sect Grand Tournament?"
Ding Long shook his head. "Of course not."
Fang Qianyuan asked in surprise, "Are the geniuses from the other Training Institutes that strong?"
"I've never gone to watch it myself, so I can't really say," Ding Long replied. "But according to senior brothers and sisters from previous years, our Training Institute