Chapter 28: Taoist Arts and Practical Combat
San Shou Level 2 (0/20) → San Shou Level 3 (0/30)
In an instant, the fifteen techniques of San Shou crystallized in Zhang Yu’s mind, growing sharper and more precise. Every follow-up motion, every seamless transition between strikes, became crystal clear. The flow of Martial Energy within each movement felt instinctive—like second nature. Zhang Yu sensed that if he launched a single strike now, his Martial Energy would naturally surge through his limbs, responding as if it had a mind of its own.
“Zhou Tian Cai Qi Fa’s passive breath cultivation is definitely helping,” Zhang Yu thought, feeling the smooth, continuous circulation of energy throughout his body. Because his energy was constantly flowing and circulating, the execution of San Shou felt effortless—fluid, natural, deeply integrated.
He couldn’t help but marvel at how much Zhou Tian Cai Qi Fa benefited beginners—not just in breath cultivation and body refinement, but even in practical combat.
But there was no time for reflection. The exam was imminent.
After a brief breath and a moment to recover his stamina, Zhang Yu hurried toward the examination hall.
The first exam of the afternoon was Taoist Arts. The second would be the martial combat test.
The Taoist Arts exam focused primarily on recognizing and using talismans.
After all, at the Qi Refining Realm, one hadn’t yet mastered true Taoist magic—only the ability to channel one’s own knowledge and Martial Energy to activate talismans. Thus, the entire three-year curriculum centered around talismans.
In essence, fu referred to the incantations—magic spells—while lu meant Lushu, the sacred scrolls that contained divine formulae. Together, fu-lu—talismans—were the means by which humans communicated with divine beings and harnessed divine power.
…
Inside the computer lab.
Zhang Yu sat down at a terminal, quietly reviewing everything he’d learned about talismans.
A few meters away, Zhao Tianxing frantically flipped through his textbook, memorizing key points he feared forgetting.
Bai Zhenzhen lay on the desk, dozing off—completely unfazed by the upcoming test.
Then, the bell rang.
Students quickly stowed away anything unrelated to the exam onto the front desk before returning to their seats.
Moments later, the screens before them flickered—each one displaying the test paper.
Question 1: Which of the following talismans belongs to the Transportation Department’s Wanxing Sitong Deity?
Zhang Yu’s mind instantly recalled the relevant information.
The Transportation Department—one of Kunxu’s Eight Divine Offices—oversaw all roads, air travel, and river-sea transport within Kunxu, holding authority to monitor the nation’s entire transportation network.
Wanxing Sitong Deity was the official in charge of urban road systems. Zhang Yu remembered one of the deity’s powers: the ability to record and access every piece of traffic surveillance data across the city.
By invoking this talisman, one could tap into the deity’s power and access real-time, comprehensive surveillance footage—so detailed, it was said, that it could foresee events three hundred years in advance.
The memory flashed through his mind, and Zhang Yu turned to the options.
Four choices, each appearing as a strange, mystical string of symbols:
A. !★,°:.☆( ̄▽ ̄)/$:.°★
B. (o>ε(o>u(≧∩≦)( ̄ー ̄)X(^▽^)
C. `)`)▍`)`)(((`)
D. 『』~o(▽`o)=▊=▋=▍
All four began with the distinctive style of a Transportation Department deity’s talisman.
“Hah… they’re already trying to mess with my head?” Zhang Yu smirked.
“Probably Option D—the Vehicle Surveillance Charm,” he decided, selecting it.
The next question appeared.
Question 2: Which of the following talismans does not belong to the Report Charm category?
Zhang Yu blinked. “Report Charm? I’ve never heard of that… another out-of-syllabus question?”
Frowning, he guessed at the one that looked most plausible and moved on.
One question after another—multiple choice, fill-in-the-blank, then open-ended—each more difficult than the last.
Like:
“Write a Physical Examination Charm to summon the Jiankang Chusheng Deity from the Ministry of Health to check for tumors in your gastrointestinal tract.”
Or:
“Which talisman can quickly subdue three ordinary humans without Martial Energy, located 30 meters directly north of you? Draw the talisman. Here are the exact positions and environmental data of the three individuals…”
“Seriously? Can’t I just knock them out with a punch?” Zhang Yu groaned, sweat forming on his brow as he struggled to draft a Juyi Charm.
Just as he was deep in concentration, a scraping sound echoed.
He looked up.
He Dayou had finished his exam and was already standing, preparing to leave.
Zhang Yu remembered—he was the third-highest scorer in last month’s monthly exam, a fellow heir to immense wealth, just like Qian Shen.
But unlike Qian Shen, who focused solely on grades, He Dayou loved flaunting his riches. The two had little interaction.
And now, this early submission was clearly a display of wealth—intentional, brazen.
Because talismans were a subject where money mattered above all else. It was the clearest dividing line between the rich and the poor.
Many called talismans the “language of the wealthy.”
In essence, drawing a talisman allowed one to summon the power of the Eight Divine Offices—often referred to as the Eight Great Righteous Gods.
But the school only taught the most basic methods. To master advanced or rare talismans—especially those not even listed in the curriculum—students had to purchase Lushu.
And Lushu wasn’t just expensive. It came with ongoing costs: membership fees, ritual offerings, faith-level upgrades… all adding up quickly.
In short, the power of Lushu wasn’t just tied to cultivation level—it was primarily determined by wealth.
Only those who invested heavily could gain sufficient faith rank, unlock higher permissions, and access advanced drawing techniques and diverse talisman types.
Only after meeting those prerequisites could one begin the real, grueling practice—like one-on-one dialogue with the Eight Great Righteous Gods, receiving divine feedback on errors, or practicing under real-time divine guidance.
And even that training was astronomically costly.
In the real world outside school, mastering talismans was, quite simply, a game of money.
And if anyone violated the rules set by the Eight Great Righteous Gods—such as secretly sharing talismans or using them to break sect laws—they’d be punished. Lightly: fined. Heavily: bankrupted.
Every time Zhang Yu attended a Taoist Arts class, he couldn’t help but sigh. This was an inherently unfair course—a privilege for the rich, a nightmare for the poor. It was the ultimate score booster in college entrance exams, the ultimate gap between the haves and the have-nots.
No wonder people called it the “language of the rich.”
But Zhang Yu had once heard Zhou Tianyi say: Talismans weren’t even the most expensive part of Taoist arts.
After cultivation base formation, the true Daoist arts required staggering investments—enough to leave a college student drowning in debt.
Finally, the Taoist Arts exam ended.
As Zhang Yu stepped out of the classroom, he saw a crowd gathered around He Dayou, asking for answers.
He Dayou smiled faintly, pulled out a jade-like tablet, and began sketching strange symbols in the air with his fingers.
As his Martial Energy pulsed, a golden phantom slowly emerged from the tablet.
He Dayou chuckled. “This is a solution talisman from the Tianzhi Wanwen Deity. Ask Him anything you want.”
The students gasped in awe, their eyes filled with envy.
Zhang Yu watched, transfixed.
Then, Bai Zhenzhen’s voice cut in from beside him.
“That’s Lushu, right? And a full jade-colored interface… he’s been planning this for ages, hasn’t he?”
Zhang Yu turned. Bai Zhenzhen stood beside him, face twisted with frustration and jealousy.
“How’d you do?” Zhang Yu asked.
“Not great,” she snapped. “At least a quarter of the talismans were completely unfamiliar.”
“Last year’s exam was 20% out of syllabus. This year, it’s 25%? If this keeps up, by the time we take the real college entrance exam, half the test will be brand new material. No shame at all.”
“Hope I don’t have to face those rich bastards in the combat exam. I’ll beat them into submission.”
Meanwhile, He Dayou sensed their gaze. He turned, gave them a polite, smug smile.
Bai Zhenzhen instantly shifted into a calm, indifferent expression, returning the nod with cool grace.
Moments later, the next exam was about to begin.
He Dayou and a few friends headed toward the martial combat testing ground.
He was the kind of student who could write a school essay titled “My School Board Father.”
Because his father was a school board member.
But despite his life of luxury, He Dayou didn’t feel light. He was just one of thirty-some children in his father’s vast family—only two of whom had made it into high school, only two who had become cultivators.
The rest had long since left to work in their father’s company, paying off the debt of their upbringing.
“Sure, I’m rich,” He Dayou thought. “But I earned my place. It wasn’t handed to me. I fought for it. I met every family KPI. I competed, I succeeded.”
“I earned my father’s investment. So why can’t I show it off?”
“Those poor kids just whine and complain. Think I only made it because I have a rich dad? How childish.”
That was his mindset—unshaken, confident.
He maintained a consistent third-place ranking in overall scores, occasionally showing off his wealth, living a quiet, privileged life, waiting for the day he’d enter a top-tier university.
Until one person disrupted his peace.
Zhang Yu—over the past half-month, had grown increasingly driven. His effort had even sparked a wave of competition throughout the class.
And that infuriated He Dayou.
“This poor kid… counting every loan payment on his fingers, rushing to work after school, earning a few hundred or a thousand each time, scraping by, trying to become a cultivator, dreaming of sudden wealth and immortality.”
“He has no idea who he’s really competing against.”
“Still acting like a madman in school.”
“Just… so ugly in his poverty.”
He Dayou couldn’t stand Zhang Yu’s relentless effort—like he thought hard work could beat someone born into wealth.
Especially after hearing rumors that Zhang Yu had been taken as a disciple by the Golden Core Immortal.
He Dayou had used his connections to verify it.
The rumor was false.
And that confirmation only deepened his hatred.
“Deliberately leaving it unclarified… trying to use false prestige to intimidate?”
So he decided: during the combat exam, he’d teach this poor boy a lesson.
Make him face the truth.
(End of Chapter)
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