https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-216-A-Useless-Failure-Who-Never-Even-Went-to-College/13686719/
Chapter 217: It's That Smell
The second trial instructor stepped into the classroom.
A towering, muscular man, his muscles as defined and rigid as marble.
Old Master Wang struck again—three consecutive palm strikes in rapid succession, each one thunderous. The man staggered back three steps, yet his expression remained utterly unchanged, standing firm as a mountain.
Old Master Wang nodded in approval. “Solid cultivation! Only someone who’s graduated from university could achieve this kind of mastery.”
The man gave a faint smile. “I’m glad you’re satisfied.”
“Hello everyone. I’m Yao Teacher—feel free to call me Xiao Yao.”
“I used to sell legitimate addictive substances—very legitimate business, actually.”
“Then someone told me that staying within the law wouldn’t make me rich. But when I heard about the profits in the Dark Tutoring Realm, I made the switch.”
“And now I understand—some things may not be legal… but they’re reasonable.”
The crowd chuckled at his words.
Then, Yao Teacher stripped off his shirt, revealing his back—covered in countless needle marks, some still oozing fluid.
He wore a proud smirk. “Because I came from the drug trade, I’ve always studied how to purge toxins from the body. Look at the number of punctures—this is how much medicine I’ve injected over the years.”
“And the reason I’m still in such good shape today? Because I’m about to teach you my Bixue Qingdu Needle.”
“This needle technique penetrates deep into the organs, expelling toxins and residue every single day. No more side effects. No more worries. You can take your medicine freely—and keep working overtime without guilt.”
“Of course, as a former professional, if you have any questions about drugs, or need to buy them, come to me. I still have access to exclusive channels. I can get you discounted rates.”
…
In the meeting room, the elders of the Anxue Alliance listened to Yao Teacher’s lecture, nodding in approval.
“Xiao Yao’s doing well—teaching while selling drugs. That’s why his course revenue is always top-tier.”
“Integrating medicine with teaching is the future. Key High School’s already doing it. We should follow suit.”
…
Outside the classroom, Zhang Yu listened to Yao Teacher’s words, his mind racing: I can’t just rely on what I’ve got. I need an edge.
He remembered his last trial in the campus: These cultivation elders probably all graduated from Key High School—maybe even one of the Three Elite Schools.
Out here, identity is self-made. If I pretend to be a Bailong High School graduate… I might stand out more.
…
“Hello everyone. I’m surnamed Bai. I’m a graduate of Bailong High School.”
The third trial instructor stepped onto the stage—a venerable elder with silver hair and a youthful face.
Bai Teacher chuckled and effortlessly received Old Master Wang’s three palm strikes. He took a single step back—then stood perfectly still.
Old Master Wang raised an eyebrow. “You’re from Bailong High School too? Then we’re fellow alumni.”
Bai Teacher smiled gently. “I’m 145 years old. Younger brother, please, give me your respect. When I studied there, it was just a small building, no rankings, no prestige…”
Hearing the elder casually recount details of Bailong High School’s forgotten past, Old Master Wang immediately believed half of it, giving a slight nod. “Senior brother, greetings.”
Bai Teacher turned to the room full of elders and spoke slowly.
“Learning never stops—only then can you live forever. We’ve all seen people die of poverty, without work, without purpose.”
“When I was your age, I worked myself to the bone—every night, I attended cram schools to boost my job prospects.”
“After all, how can you work without learning? And how can you earn money—without working? To live long, you must keep learning, keep working, keep paying taxes. That’s the true path of cultivation.”
“Now, at 145, I’m almost saved enough for an Immortality Pill. Once I take it, I’ll live to 170—and work for another ten years.”
The elders clapped in unison, gazing at the 145-year-old Bai Teacher as if he were their ideal future.
“Of course, my longevity and vitality come from years of disciplined cultivation—constantly purging toxins from my body.”
…
In the meeting room, the gang elders exchanged impressed glances.
“Lao Bai’s steady—didn’t even start teaching yet, but already won over the students.”
“With his age, experience, and living proof—he’s got the authority to command these clients. If we give him this class, renewal rates will be sky-high.”
“Damn… Xiao Yao’s good. Lao Bai’s good. I don’t know who to pick.”
…
Outside, Zhang Yu listened to Lao Bai’s speech, his heart sinking: Damn it. He’s already using the Bailong High School name?
This is bad. I need to come up with something else—something stronger.
These cultivation elders are all arrogant, snobby types—most likely from Key High School, maybe even one of the Three Elite Schools.
Ordinary tricks won’t scare them.
After Lao Bai finished, it was Zhang Yu’s turn.
He stepped into the classroom—and Old Master Wang immediately declared, “Young man, you can leave. No need to continue.”
Even though Zhang Yu’s disguised face looked thirty or forty, to these elders, he was still just a young kid.
Old Master Wang’s voice was cold. “We’ve made our decision. We’ll take Elder Bai. No more candidates.”
With that, he unleashed a single palm strike—wind roaring, thunder cracking—as it hurtled toward Zhang Yu’s chest, aiming to send him flying out the door.
Boom!
The strike first met Zhang Yu’s copper-skinned corpse hide—refined by the Grief Fermenting Technique.
Then the force was blocked by the Wuxiang Yun'gang beneath his flesh.
Then, through the precise transmission of that internal energy, the impact was distributed across Zhang Yu’s entire body—his bones, silver-white and frost-like, absorbing the shock like a network of steel filaments.
Though he stood perfectly still, Zhang Yu had just endured the full force of the blow—using his Peak Qi Refinement-level skin, bones, and refined technique.
To Old Master Wang, it felt as if he’d struck a hundred-ton steel beam buried deep beneath a skyscraper. He couldn’t budge the man—and worse, his own palm began to burn with pain.
“You little brat!” Old Master Wang stared at Zhang Yu, stunned. “What kind of Body-Protection Technique is that? And not just one… there’s more.”
Zhang Yu smiled faintly. “Old master… you still have two more strikes.”
Old Master Wang sighed, his voice flat. “With your Body Refining level, you’re clearly a university graduate. No need to test further.”
He kept his hands behind his back, his trembling palm throbbing—desperately wanting to ice it.
The other elders were silent, stunned. They all knew Old Master Wang’s strength. For him to be so impressed? Zhang Yu’s status had just skyrocketed in their eyes.
Zhang Yu stepped up to the podium and said calmly, “I’m Ma. You can call me Master Ma.”
“I’ll be teaching you the Chunqiu Wujin Chan—a technique I learned back at Xianyun High School.”
One elder frowned. “Xianyun High School? What’s that? I’ve never heard of it.”
Another muttered, “Sounds familiar… isn’t that just a regular high school?”
Old Master Wang suddenly snapped upright. “You said… Xianyun High School? You mean… that Xianyun High School?”
“Yes.” Zhang Yu’s tone remained calm. “The Xianyun High School from the 1.5 Layer of Xian Du.”
“I’m a Xian Du native.”
The entire room fell silent. All eyes locked onto Zhang Yu.
He looked around, his voice soft but clear. “I live in the North Sixth Ring of Xian Du’s 1.5 Layer. Not outside the Sixth Ring—inside it.”
Whispers spread. “1.5 Layer? What’s that?”
Old Master Wang whispered, “It’s the cloud layer above Xian Du—the sky city. But exactly where the North Sixth Ring is… I don’t know.”
Zhang Yu explained. “Xian Du’s sky is a floating city—covering the entire metropolis. We call it the 1.5 Layer—between Kunxu’s first and second layers.”
“The most beautiful place there? Central Cloud Sea Park.”
“I still remember the forests floating in the clouds, the lakes of mist, and dragons breathing fire into the sky…”
As he spoke, Zhang Yu recalled the lavish, surreal scenes from his Dao Heart Test during the Foundation Establishment Exam—the opulence of the 1.5 Layer—his eyes glimmering with quiet nostalgia.
That half-day of illusionary experience is more than enough to impress anyone in Songyang City.
The elders listened, eyes wide, hearts aching with longing. The mention of gourmet food, Spirit Armor, alchemical furnaces—each detail painted a picture of paradise.
Old Master Wang’s mind reeled: Who the hell is this guy? The Xian Du people I met in the Second Layer didn’t even talk like this.
Zhang Yu paused for a moment, then lifted his head, his expression shifting—cool, distant, almost disdainful.
“Honestly, coming to a backwater place like this, teaching a bunch of outsiders… I had zero interest.”
He sighed, feigning regret. “But fate has its twists. I had no choice.”
The elders felt it—the unmistakable aura: three parts arrogance, three parts contempt, three parts scorn… and one part unshakable pride.
Old Master Wang trembled slightly. That’s it. That’s exactly the feeling.
The Xian Du people from the Second Layer—always looking down their noses at us Songyang folk. That’s the smell.
Zhang Yu mirrored the mannerisms of the Xian Du elders he’d seen in his Dao Heart Test, quietly observing their reactions.
Exactly as I thought.
The more these old beasts despise high school grads, the more they worship Xian Du elites—rich, powerful, and impossibly superior.
…
In the meeting room, the elders erupted in excitement.
“A real Xian Du elder? Is he for real?”
A long-bearded elder said, “Does it matter if he’s real? Look at the students’ reactions—they’re hooked!”
A bald-headed elder laughed. “Perfect! This is exactly what we need! The Xian Du name—imagine how many new students it’ll attract!”
One supporter of Xiao Yao said, “But Xiao Yao brings in sales—he said he can open new markets. If he’s the top teacher, he can get us a drug distribution deal.”
The bearded elder scoffed. “You’d believe him? I could claim I own the rights to Xianyun High School.”
Another argued, “What about Lao Bai? He’s a genuine Bailong graduate. 145 years old. Experienced. Devoted to the Alliance…”
The bald elder snorted. “A 145-year-old fossil? He might drop dead mid-lecture. Why pick him?”
He paused, then declared, “I say we go with Ma Yunteng. The Xian Du name is strong. That’s the real game-changer.”
Another suggested, “But Xiao Yao brings in money. That’s real value.”
A third said, “Xiao Yao has his strengths. Ma has his. Why not pick both?”
A fourth shot back, “We only have one class. How many classes can two teachers run?”
The room exploded into chaos—elders arguing, shouting, each defending their favorite candidate.
The debate raged on—over who should become the new gold medal instructor, who should lead this class.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
