Chapter Four: It’s Not Cheating [Please Vote and Add to Your Favorites]
Some brows furrowed.
“Several of the names ahead are well-known prodigies of unprecedented talent, but this Fang Che—when did he suddenly appear?” someone wondered aloud.
The elderly man with the graying beard frowned deeply. “And these results are too strange. From thirty-nine straight to ninety-one, all increasing in increments of two points. This means he’s been slaying fifth-grade beasts; twenty-six in a row? Setting aside the possibility of beast packs, what level of cultivation could cut through fifth-grade beasts like they’re nothing?”
“Since he’s even registering to enter the Martial Academy but hasn’t yet, the highest he could be is a Martial Master, right? Could he really do that?”
The crowd shook their heads. Only a Martial Ancestor would be capable.
“Could it be cheating?”
“Cheating seems impossible. If that were the case, it would have been reported already, but so far, no reports have come in.”
In the forest.
Two men in black stood on a distant high vantage point, hidden by foliage, their faces expressing disbelief as they watched the scene ahead.
It was a canyon.
Countless Bloodfang Demon Wolves joyfully charged into the canyon.
Some, even from afar, activated their innate abilities to ride the wind, hastening eagerly forward.
Within the canyon, a faint trail of incense smoke rose beneath a cliff face.
To enter the canyon and then the cliff, several massive boulders blocked the way, leaving only a winding, twisting path.
The narrow trail only allowed one demon wolf at a time, and even then, they had to move cautiously to avoid hitting the rocks.
At the last fork in the path stood a cunning youth.
He balanced on the cliff’s edge, wielding a Windsteel Longsword. Below him, a line of incense—the Soulcalming Incense for spirit beasts most alluring to the Bloodfang Demon Wolves—was burning, guiding them along the winding path.
A demon wolf eagerly approached, just as its head appeared, a sword stroke severed it instantly.
The kill left no blood, but the creature’s life force and soul were cut at the same moment.
Then, with a small knife, the youth extracted a core and gathered a few drops of fresh blood into a name tag.
A swift kick sent the wolf’s corpse tumbling down the cliff.
Another wolf came, and the process repeated: one slash, one dig, one drop, one kick.
His movements were practiced and fluid, like a craftsman who had done this job for decades.
One fifth-grade demon wolf after another—again and again.
Fang Che moved swiftly and cleanly, industrious and focused.
Yet the two instructors from the Martial Academy watching grew increasingly speechless, their frustration building, as if biting into something bitter they could neither spit out nor swallow.
“Is this cheating?” one whispered in stunned disbelief.
The other grimaced, “No, this really isn’t cheating.”
“Huh?”
“Because, from start to finish, he’s actually fighting. Although the battle is easier, it is genuinely combat.”
The second man felt a slight soreness in his throat as he spoke.
Both fell silent.
Was Fang Che fighting? Yes.
But compared to other prodigies, his ‘battle’ seemed far too effortless.
Others of the same rank encountering these Bloodfang Demon Wolves would be exhausted, barely able to kill one without injury.
But Fang Che’s method was one slash, one dig, one drop, one throw.
Done.
As easy as dipping a steamed bun in garlic paste.
Yet, surprisingly, no one could accuse him of cheating.
It was truly...
Meanwhile, Fan Tiantiao’s mouth hung wide open; his jaw nearly hit the ground as he muttered to himself, “Damn... This is some seriously creative genius... I’ve truly had my eyes opened today...”
Qian Sanjiang’s eyes sparkled with excitement: “Holy hell, what a talent...”
The cliff wasn’t high—only two or three hundred meters—but looking down, clouds and mist obscured the bottom.
Countless skeletons lay piled on the ground below.
The fallen demon wolf corpses remained motionless on impact, but from beneath them, fresh blood quietly seeped out.
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The blood vanished the moment it touched the earth.
As the blood continued to leak, the corpses lost their luster; once the blood was gone, the energy within the wolf’s flesh and bones also seeped into the ground.
Eventually, even the wolf’s skin slackened, lifeless and limp, resembling decades-old tattered cloth—intact on the surface but fragile enough to blow apart with a single breath.
Only the fur remained attached, its coloring still bright.
Even if someone descended to the cliff’s base and saw the bodies, they wouldn’t realize the wolves had completely rotted—their forms remained unchanged.
This phenomenon occurred throughout the forest: wherever a life was lost, the same change took place. All the energy seeped underground, flowing in one direction.
Yet no one noticed.
Fang Che finished his slaughter and kept a watchful eye on his surroundings, feeling that something was off.
But no matter how hard he searched, he could not pinpoint the cause.
Where was the problem?
...
Hundreds of zhang beneath the earth, a shattered body lay quietly.
It seemed dead for countless years, yet had not decayed.
Streams of subtle blood energy trickled from various directions, converging toward the body.
Like rivulets merging into an ocean.
Over the years, no visible change occurred, only the aura of blood and killing energy around the body grew slightly denser.
...
White Cloud Martial Academy.
Everyone was utterly dumbfounded as Fang Che’s score rocket-launched upwards.
From ninety-one points, it soared rapidly to two hundred and one, paused briefly, then surged again.
It climbed all the way to two hundred ninety-nine.
Finally, it stopped.
He held the top spot, towering above all.
The second place, Qiu Yunshang, had only seventy-seven points.
The gap was like heaven and earth.
Fang Che’s score never budged again.
The vice dean with the graying beard finally ordered, “Fang Che has likely finished earning points. Quickly check what beasts he’s been killing; then send a message to those instructors escorting the martial students to find out what’s going on.”
Soon, the cores were all transmitted, piled high on the ground.
A heap.
“All Bloodfang Demon Wolves?”
All the teachers at White Cloud Martial Academy were stunned.
After a long moment, the vice dean stomped his foot, “This kid must have gotten lucky! Bloodfang Demon Wolves have a fatal weakness—Soulcalming Grass...”
Just then, a message arrived: “Fang Che used the Spirit Beast Soulcalming Incense, probably...”
Everyone exchanged glances.
Could it really be that simple?
“What now?”
“What else can we do?”
The vice dean stomped again, “He didn’t cheat, so we can only accept it! Sigh... Once this kid enters the academy, I want to see what kind of character he really is.”
Saying so, he turned and strode out, arms behind his back, sighing.
Outside, a report came in: The mountain chief, there’s a secret report.
The mountain chief replied, “Bring it here.”
Moments later.
In his study, the mountain chief looked at a piece of paper.
The four characters written on it faded swiftly: “Keep an eye on Fang Che.”
His gaze was profound.
...
Just as the academy suspected.
Page 3
After reaching two hundred ninety-nine points, Fang Che stopped killing.
Though his supply of Soulcalming Incense was running low, the Bloodfang Demon Wolves kept coming endlessly.
But Fang Che no longer wished to continue.
He had enough points.
Over two hundred meant automatic admission without testing.
Killing more now was pointless.
Besides, lingering here felt wrong—an indescribable unease gnawed at him. He didn’t want to stay a moment longer.
Even hearing his own heartbeat felt alarming.
This feeling was far too wrong.
There had to be grave danger!
So, once the points were secured, he left immediately.
...
Wei Zihao felt lucky to have discovered a Ling Ginseng during the demon beast slaughter.
A peak sixth-grade demon beast guarded it.
Wei Zihao couldn’t slay it alone, so he promised a hefty reward and teamed up with a dozen martial students to kill the beast.
No one else had noticed the ginseng’s location; Wei Zihao secretly rejoiced.
Victory was near.
Once the beast was slain, Wei Zihao planned to pay the promised reward and then let others scramble for the points quietly, so he could profit silently.
Amid flying blood and flesh, the beast screamed in agony. The martial students were elated, pushing themselves harder as victory loomed.
At that moment.
A shadow streaked through the sky with a swift whoosh.
Suddenly, it paused, then flew back.
Perched atop a tall tree, eyes shining brightly, the figure stroked his chin and said, “Hey, this looks good.”
It was Fang Che.
Wei Zihao beamed, “Brother Fang, please lend a hand with killing this beast—I’ll reward you handsomely!”
Fang Che chuckled, “Alright, then I want that Enlightening Blood Ling Ginseng.”
“Enlightening Blood Ling Ginseng?”
Kang Zijian, struggling in the fight, suddenly leapt far outside the fray, face full of confusion: “What’s this Enlightening Blood Ling Ginseng?”
Others stopped as well.
“What’s the Enlightening Blood Ling Ginseng?”
“Wasn’t it just a peak sixth-grade demon beast?”
“Ling Ginseng? What’s that? What’s going on?”
...
Wei Zihao’s eyes widened, his expression one of total despair.
It took a moment for him to react, nearly biting his tongue in frustration.
He never expected that casually inviting Fang Che would stir up such trouble.
That guy’s mouth was too loose, immediately revealing the existence of the Enlightening Blood Ling Ginseng!
This was a rare, heavenly treasure!
It was absolutely catastrophic!
His eyes blazed with fury at Fang Che, wishing he could rip that mouth apart.
Why is your mouth so damn loose?
Fang Che looked innocent, turning to Kang Zijian and the others: “What, weren’t you all fighting for that Enlightening Blood Ling Ginseng? You were so eager, I thought you wanted to get the ginseng that boosts one’s aptitude after consumption.”
He clicked his tongue twice, “It’s a fine treasure, already turning red. Once taken, it raises your cultivation aptitude by one level—that’s guaranteed.”
...