Chapter 38: Tan Palace Academy

The era name Qingyuan was established in the year Li Hao was born—an unmistakable sign of Emperor Yu’s profound favor toward the Li Clan. For over three thousand years, this mighty dynasty had stood like a lion, its strength waning with age but still radiating awe-inspiring power. It protected the heartland, kept the wild Spirit Beasts of the Eight Borders at bay, and ensured that the vassal states continued to send their annual tributes without defiance.

In that year, Jiang Tianshou, an 86-year-old general, marched forth from the frontier with the cheers of pastoral tribes ringing in his ears. Leading three万余 elite Iron Cavalry, he eradicated a horde of ten thousand Tiger-Beast Demons in just three days, expanding the realm by a thousand miles. His name echoed across the nineteen provinces.

That same year, a twelve-year-old prodigy named Youlin Mingyuejian broke through the nine celestial gates of the Heavenly Gate and, as an official disciple, entered the Qian Dao Palace. There, he listened to the sacred teachings of the Sage—fame spread throughout the world.

And in that year, the Old Sect Master who had secluded himself for thirty years atop Wanfeng Mountain finally descended. At Chishui Lake’s edge, he faced an unknown opponent in a battle that drew the eyes of the entire realm. Yet the outcome? No one knew.

Now, it was late autumn. Golden leaves blanketed the land of Qingzhou. In the city, the cultivation sanctuary known as Tan Palace Academy—called Yue Xianmen—unlocked its gates after six years of closure.

The news swept across the realms. Countless young talents, noble heirs, and princesses from every corner of the world poured into Qingzhou, each desperate to seize this rare opportunity for glory and destiny.

Yet, in a quiet courtyard not far from the academy, within the Divine General’s Residence, a young man sat leisurely beneath a willow tree.

He listened to the soft rustle of falling leaves, poured a fresh pot of green tea, and calmly played a game of Go. The clamor beyond the walls—the race for fame, the struggle for power—seemed utterly foreign to him.

“Fifth Uncle,” the boy said with a smile, “you’ve lost again.”

The black stone settled into place, sealing off the last path of escape. Checkmate.

The boy lifted his teacup and took a delicate sip. His lips were red, his teeth white. His eyes sparkled like stars—clear, deep, and filled with quiet wisdom. His youthful face bore soft yet defined contours, his skin pale as moonlight, untouched by the sun. His fingers, long and slender, were strong, their nails perfectly clear, untouched by imperfection.

The old man across the board twitched his lips, frowned at the board, and after a long, silent scrutiny, finally conceded. He tossed the white stone back into the qi lian with a sigh.

“You’ve gotten better at this game,” the Fifth Uncle, Li Qingzheng, grumbled, though his tone was laced with reluctant admiration. After decades devoted to the art of Go, his greatest pride—his mastery—had been repeatedly humbled by this boy. Now, he could only win a game once in a blue moon. It was infuriating.

“Just thanks to your excellent practice sessions, Fifth Uncle,” Li Hao replied with a playful grin.

“Rascal,” Li Qingzheng snapped, but his eyes betrayed amusement. He reached for the stones, ready to start another game—only to pause, staring at the board. He still hadn’t figured out how he’d lost.

Then came the crisp crack of dry leaves underfoot.

A flash of white shot across the courtyard. Without a word, a white fox leapt into Li Hao’s arms, burying its head into his chest.

Its ears were painted in vivid orange-red, adding a vibrant spark to its playful charm.

Li Hao scratched behind the fox’s ears, then wrinkled his nose. “Smells like potion. What mischief have you been up to this time?”

The fox burrowed deeper into his arms, as if hiding from the question.

Just then, Li Hao heard footsteps—light, hurried. He looked up to see a young maid in green robes sprinting toward the pavilion. Her eyes were bright, her face delicate and lovely. She gasped for breath as she reached the edge of the pavilion, bowed respectfully to Li Qingzheng, then turned to Li Hao with urgency.

“Master Li,” she panted, “Xiao Rou has run off again—this time to the kitchen of the Great Lady. She knocked over the Great Lady’s beauty-enhancing elixir! The Changchun Courtyard is now searching for the culprit!”

Li Hao blinked. He gently pulled the fox’s head out of his chest and scowled. “I told you not to wander off. Didn’t I say you’d get punished?”

The fox turned its head away, refusing to meet his gaze—clearly guilty.

“If you keep this up,” Li Hao warned, “I’ll hand you over to the Great Lady. Let her give you a proper scolding—strip you bare and give you a good scrubbing!”

The fox shuddered at the thought, its fur bristling. It turned back, eyes wide and pleading.

“You’ve already reached the Circulation Realm,” Li Hao sighed, “yet you still can’t speak. How is that possible?”

He turned to the maid, Qingzhi. “Go tell the Great Lady you’re sorry on my behalf. And bring her a plate of my purple perilla cakes. Oh, and—did you get the cotton-yu oil pastry today?”

Qingzhi pouted. “Again? Every time she causes trouble, I’m the one who gets blamed.”

“What?” Li Hao raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, already turning to leave. “I’ll go get it right away.”

And with that, she vanished like a wisp of green mist.

Li Hao sighed, shaking his head. “That girl’s getting bolder by the day.”

Li Qingzheng glanced at him, dryly. “How many of your servants are even half decent?”

Li Hao nearly choked on his tea. “Fifth Uncle! That’s not something you should say!”

“Look at your courtyard,” Li Qingzheng shot back. “Servants stand like drunkards, maids run about like wild beasts. Go see the other courtyards—everything’s orderly. Even that little fox spirit is always causing trouble. One day, someone’s going to catch it and boil it for soup. It’s a case of ‘the master sets the tone.’ You had such a bright future—why go and ruin it like this? Do you think our ancestral line is less noble than a mere Spirit Beast dragon?”

His voice rose, his face flushed. The old wound still festered.

Eight years ago, Li Hao had been on the verge of entering the Continuation of Soul Realm. But he had delayed it for a full year—just to spite the elders.

When the Ancestral Hall finally sent someone to retrieve him, they found him already having inherited a soul—not from a human ancestor, but from a Spirit Beast.

He had slain a Jiao Dragon with the Body Cultivation Art and inherited its soul.

Yes, it was a Dragon Soul—but a mere young dragon, not a legendary ancestor. And Spirit Beast souls carried inherent traits: violent, merciless, bloodthirsty.

Yet, Li Hao had shown no such darkness. Most likely, it was due to his daily games of Go with Li Qingzheng—his calm, disciplined nature slowly tempering the beast’s fire.

Still, the fact remained: the Dragon Soul had lowered his Soul Inheritance potential. In the Continuation of Soul Realm, he would only be mid-to-upper tier—adequate, but far from exceptional.

To those who had inherited the souls of ancient, legendary ancestors—Four Foundations Realm elders who had slain countless dragons in life—Li Hao’s soul was a joke.

Just the mere aura of their ancestral spirits would likely send him reeling.

Thinking of this, Li Qingzheng’s ire flared. The elders in the Ancestral Hall were furious. A Li Clan heir, inheriting a Spirit Beast Dragon’s soul? How could such a disgrace be tolerated?

Some even demanded punishment—locking Li Hao in the family’s underground prison to teach him humility.

Even Li Moxiu, who had served as a constant guardian, had been scolded by the elders for his indulgence.

And Li Moxiu deserved it. Too lenient. Too soft. If not for Li Hao’s unmatched skill at Go, the old man might have punished him himself.

Now, staring at the Go board, Li Qingzheng’s anger flared again.

Why did I lose?

Since the day he left the Ancestral Hall, he had prided himself on maintaining a decades-long state of calm focus. Yet lately, it felt… unstable. Frayed.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Li Hao said with a sheepish grin. “My servants are content. I’m content.”

“You’ll be the one in trouble when your father returns,” Li Qingzheng muttered coldly. “He’ll show you discipline.”

“What if he bans me from playing with you?” Li Hao teased.

“He dares not,” Li Qingzheng snapped.

Li Hao chuckled.

Then, another set of footsteps approached—lighter than Qingzhi’s, but familiar.

Li Hao looked up. A woman in pale blue robes stood before him.

Xuejian.

Years had passed since she was a girl. Now, she carried herself with quiet grace, her presence composed and poised.

Behind her walked two maids, heads down, movements silent and disciplined—far more orderly than those in Li Hao’s own courtyard. Hard work, clearly.

She bowed deeply to Li Qingzheng, then turned to Li Hao.

“Master Li,” she said, voice respectful, “the Elder Lady sent me to inform you: the Tan Palace Academy has reopened this year. This is the official invitation from the academy. I’ve brought it to you personally.”

She handed him a black-and-white carp-patterned invitation.

Though her heart might not hold deep respect for him, her demeanor was flawless.

Li Hao had always known Xuejian was sharp—knowing exactly where to draw the line. He smiled and took the invitation, then casually tossed it onto the mat beside him.

“Thank you, Xuejian.”

Xuejian’s eyes dipped down. Her gaze lingered on the priceless invitation—so coveted by martial cultivators across the land—now lying carelessly on the ground.

She sighed inwardly.

Just as Lady predicted.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end