Chapter Eleven: Entering the Academy of the Demon City

For Yang Fan, battles within ancient ruins still felt a distant prospect. After all, he hadn’t even begun cultivating yet, and his understanding of the world of cultivation was far from complete.

“All right, you two should eat. We still need to get back to the academy,” Zhou Ting prompted, watching as the conversation threatened to go on endlessly.

“You’re heading back to the academy after this? Sis, you haven’t been home in so long. You just returned from out of town and aren’t even stopping by?” Zhou Yiyi immediately put on a wounded expression.

“We’ll visit home another time when there’s a chance. This time I need to take Yang Fan to the academy for enrollment. The old man’s waiting.” Zhou Ting sounded helpless in the face of her younger sister’s complaints.

“Then I’ll go with you! I’ve already had my talent tested, and I even registered yesterday. I can go to the academy and complete my admission too,” Zhou Yiyi protested, reluctant to part ways.

“Stop being difficult. There are still two months before the term starts. Do you even have your acceptance letter? Even if you go to the academy, there won’t be anyone to handle your admission. Yang Fan’s situation is different—he’s from another province, has no place to stay in the city, and the old man gave personal instructions for his admission and accommodation. Why make a fuss? I promise, I’ll visit you when I have time, or you can come find me in two months.” Zhou Ting set down her utensils, sounding exasperated.

“Fine,” Zhou Yiyi replied, her enthusiasm instantly deflated.

Half an hour later, the three left the restaurant. Zhou Yiyi was picked up by someone who’d come for her, while Yang Fan and Zhou Ting drove off in Zhou Yiyi’s imposing G-Wagon, heading for the Shanghai Cultivation Academy.

The car quickly left the city proper. The two sat in companionable silence until Yang Fan finally broke it.

“So, this is the Shanghai Cultivation Academy?” Yang Fan gazed at the massive gate before them, the words “Shanghai Cultivation Academy” carved boldly above.

The gate itself was nearly thirty meters long and about sixty meters high. At first glance, it was awe-inspiring—standing before such a colossal structure, one couldn’t help but feel insignificant.

“This gate was designed by Dean Zhang Daoyi, to remind new students of their smallness, that they have yet to become strong, so they remain humble, disciplined, and focused on cultivation,” Zhou Ting explained, recalling her own first impression of the academy’s gate and how she’d been intimidated by its grandeur.

“Come on, let’s head to the Academic Affairs Office to get your paperwork done and assign you a dormitory,” Zhou Ting called to Yang Fan, who was still dazed by the sight.

“Oh, right, yes.” Yang Fan snapped out of his reverie. In that moment, standing before the massive gate, he truly felt how tiny he was—as if the gate itself pressed down on him.

Following Zhou Ting, Yang Fan made his way toward a smaller side entrance. The academy’s main gate was rarely opened, reserved for special occasions.

The academy grounds were vast, set apart from the bustle of the city and surrounded by picturesque natural scenery. The campus spanned some eight hundred acres, with each new class admitting two thousand to twenty-five hundred students. All together, including faculty, the school had fewer than twelve thousand people—yet those twelve thousand occupied eight hundred acres. Such extravagance, such grandeur!

Passing through the echoing corridor at the entrance, the teaching building came into view. It wasn’t tall—just four stories—but it stretched on for over a hundred meters. Beside it stood the Resource Exchange Building, and diagonally across, the Task Hall.

Zhou Ting led Yang Fan into the teaching building, straight up to the fourth floor, where they stopped at an office door.

Knock, knock. Zhou Ting rapped on the door.

“Enter,” came a deep male voice from inside.

Zhou Ting entered with Yang Fan in tow.

“I’ve brought him. You two can talk. I have other errands, so I’ll leave you to it! Yang Fan, if you have any questions about the academy or about cultivation, you can call me. I’m off now,” Zhou Ting announced, not waiting for a response from the man behind the desk before turning on her heel and leaving. The man didn’t seem surprised.

“Come, young man, have a seat,” the man said once Zhou Ting had left.

“I’m Zhou Haifeng, Dean of Academic Affairs at the academy, and also an instructor,” he introduced himself as soon as Yang Fan sat down.

“Hello, Professor Zhou. I’m Yang Fan, from the frontier province. First-class aptitude,” Yang Fan replied quickly.

“Good, yes, I have your information here. We’re glad you could come to our academy. I’ve reviewed your background—an orphan, just out of the welfare home, and on the night your talent was tested, your Qi Sea was already half-open. It seems the energy has spread throughout your body! Even my own unruly little niece can’t match your strength,” Zhou Haifeng said with a smile.

Yang Fan was at a loss for words—his half-open Qi Sea was the system’s doing. How could he explain that?

“No need to be nervous. You’re not the only one whose Qi Sea has half-opened before formal cultivation. Everyone has their own fortune. If you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t force you. I’ll just remind you—not to experiment with your Qi Sea or sense energy before you’ve reached the first rank of Martial Apprentice. If your Qi Sea fully opens now, your body, not yet tempered, won’t be able to withstand the energy,” Zhou Haifeng continued, amused by Yang Fan’s conflicted expression. Even as a peak eighth-rank master, he found the boy’s anxiety amusing. A half-open Qi Sea wasn’t too rare—there were three others at the academy in the same situation before they began formal cultivation.

“Thank you for your guidance, Professor Zhou. Senior Zhou Ting already warned me that an untempered body can’t tolerate the energy of a fully opened Qi Sea—it could be destroyed,” Yang Fan replied.

“That’s right. Now that you understand, don’t try it. I’ll handle your admission paperwork, and then you can go to the dormitory area to find Professor Zhang for your room assignment. As for your tuition, Zhou Ting told me about that—it can be deferred to the next academic year. The term hasn’t started yet, but now that you’re here, you’re officially a student. Don’t waste any time—once you’ve settled in, go to the Martial Arts Hall to collect your cultivation manual. For the first and second ranks, everyone practices the same foundational manual, so there’s no selection at this stage. If you have questions, come to me. Remember, cultivation is not something to take lightly—if you run into trouble, never be afraid to ask. Mistakes in training can be disastrous!” Zhou Haifeng said, writing something on a sheet of paper, which he handed to Yang Fan for the dormitory area.

Yang Fan left the office with his luggage and his admission notice.

The dormitory complex was some distance from the teaching buildings—it took Yang Fan a good ten minutes to walk there. Once again, he was stunned by the academy’s grandeur.

This was no ordinary dormitory—these were rows of standalone villas, each at least two hundred square meters. There were two or three thousand of them altogether.

After a moment to collect himself, Yang Fan entered through the main gate of the dormitory area. To the right was Professor Zhang’s office, the supervisor of the dormitories.

Knock, knock, knock. “Hello, is anyone there?” Yang Fan called as he knocked.

“Come in,” came the reply.

Entering, Yang Fan saw five people clustered together in discussion. One woman, tall and about thirty, looked up and asked, “Who are you? I haven’t seen you before. What do you need?”

“I’m a new student, here to check in,” Yang Fan replied.

“A new student? Term hasn’t even started—how come you’re here already?” said a stout older man beside her.

“I had some special circumstances, so I came early. Director Zhou Haifeng arranged for my early admission and sent me here to find Professor Zhang for my room,” Yang Fan explained. He wasn’t about to say he’d been coaxed here by Zhou Ting, nor that he lacked the funds for off-campus housing—though with the standard here, all his money wouldn’t cover two days’ rent.

“I’m Zhang Fengyi, the Professor Zhang you’re looking for. Let me see your admission letter,” she said, extending her hand. Yang Fan quickly handed it over.

“Yes, this is signed by Zhou Haifeng. All right, follow me,” she said, leading Yang Fan into the dormitory area.

As they walked, Zhang Fengyi said, “You’re early, and I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll give you a little bonus. Since the new students haven’t arrived yet, I’ll put you in a nice spot.”

Yang Fan wondered just what kind of luck he’d been having lately. First-class aptitude, the return of his jade talisman transforming into a system, awakening the lightning talent fruit, and now even the accommodations were working in his favor.

It all felt a bit unreal, but as the saying goes: when fortune smiles on you, don’t ask why it’s you and not someone else—just enjoy it!

“This will be your dorm. You can stay here for the two months before the term starts. When the new students arrive, there’ll be an assessment, and dorms will be reassigned based on the results. For now, you’ll be in the area with the richest spiritual energy. Don’t say I didn’t take care of you!” Zhang Fengyi said.

Looking at the villa labeled 0001, Yang Fan felt that arriving early was truly a blessing. Even if it was only temporary, two months of cultivating in a place so rich in spiritual energy was a definite advantage, even for a novice like Yang Fan.

“Thank you, Professor Zhang.”

“You’re welcome, young man. Work hard—if you intend to be a cultivator, seize every opportunity. I can tell from your half-open Qi Sea that your aptitude isn’t bad. So, go for it—warriors must strive! If you need anything, you’ll find me in my office. Here’s your key. I’ll be off now,” Zhang Fengyi said, striding away.

“Goodbye, Professor,” Yang Fan called after her.

Standing before his luxurious new home, Yang Fan felt the sweetness of life. Who could say what tomorrow would bring? He’d never imagined he’d live in a place like this. The best he’d managed in his eighteen years was a hotel room at 198 yuan a night, courtesy of Zhao Rui the previous evening.

Opening the door, Yang Fan found everything in perfect order, lacking only personal necessities, which he’d need to purchase himself.

After settling in, he left again—what drew him most now was the Martial Arts Hall. Zhou Haifeng had said he could collect his foundational cultivation manual ahead of time. Normally, these would be distributed after the classes were divided at the start of term, but Yang Fan was getting his two months early. For ordinary students, short of being from a powerful family, getting access to cultivation methods before entering an academy was nearly impossible.

For children from regular families, their understanding of cultivation was scarcely deeper than Yang Fan’s—public information available was always limited.