Chapter Sixty: The Boast Grew Too Big! (Seeking Recommendations and Favorites)

The purple light coalesced into form, shooting toward Yang Fan. This time, however, the purple radiance was far weaker than when the White Tiger first unleashed it. Back then, in its battle against the Azure Bird, the White Tiger’s beam of purple light pierced through the heavens and earth. Now, it was but a faint halo, barely more than a ray of light shining down upon Yang Fan.

Yang Fan’s cleaving blade met the edge of the purple light, and once again his blood surged violently. His arms were tense and rigid, veins bulging across his forehead, as he struggled to withstand the onslaught. For a brief moment, man and beast were locked in stalemate—until Yang Fan was blasted skyward by the purple energy. His blade’s momentum was broken, and his body, like a tattered rag, crashed to the earth. The cleaver fell at his side, twisted and misshapen.

After this final strike, the White Tiger grew even more feeble, blood pouring from its many wounds, each one a terrifying sight. With a last furious roar to the sky, it collapsed and breathed its last. In its wide eyes lingered the bitterness of defeat, for in its final moments, it saw Yang Fan, battered and blood-soaked, using his blade for support as he struggled back to his feet. He had stood up!

...

Three days later, in Tengchong, Yundian.

A squad of martial artists emerged from the mountain forest. At the rear, three men dragged the carcasses of three wild beasts behind them. If one looked closer, each beast was massive—the smallest nearly three meters in length.

At the front walked a man and a woman; the man bore a youth on his back. Yang Fan was now sprawled atop Jiang Xiaoyi’s back, gazing up at the sky.

“We’re finally out!” Yang Fan exclaimed, his face ashen.

“Yes, we’ve made it out!” Zhou Yiyi, at his side, replied.

The group pressed onward toward civilization.

Soon, several military trucks pulled up before them. Armed soldiers descended from the vehicles. The leader radiated a powerful vitality that Yang Fan could clearly sense—a peak rank two martial artist.

“You’ve all worked hard. I am Jiao Guoqiang, Commander of the Wolf Battalion, Wolf Regiment, Yundian Border Garrison. I was ordered to retrieve you,” he said solemnly, saluting the six youths before him and the exotic beast corpses they dragged.

“Greetings, Commander Jiao. We are the operatives on this mission, first-year students from the Modu Academy of Cultivation. My name is Zhou Yiyi,” she replied quickly.

Soldiers, especially those stationed at the border, were always worthy of the highest respect. To be posted in Yundian meant living in constant peril among the mountains. The hardships these students had faced in the wild were inexpressible, and seeing these border soldiers filled each heart with admiration and gratitude.

As Zhou Yiyi spoke, Jiao Guoqiang took careful measure of the squad.

So young—all six of them. Though their faces were grime-streaked, their youthful vigor had yet to fade.

His gaze fixed on Yang Fan, surprise obvious in his eyes.

Peak rank two?

Though the youth’s aura was weak, the force of his vitality was unmistakable. This boy, still so young, was actually at the same cultivation level as himself. Jiao’s eyes flickered to Yang Fan’s hands, covered in countless wounds, with fresh blood still oozing from some.

Soon, he spoke. “Alright, get in. Some of you are injured—let’s get you to the military hospital for treatment.”

The group nodded. For days, they had been worried about Yang Fan’s condition. Though his wounds from resisting the purple light were mostly internal, they were severe—organ displacement and trauma, no less. As a rank two cultivator, Yang Fan’s internal organs were not yet fortified; that process began at rank four. In other words, his organs were no stronger than an ordinary person’s. Such internal injuries at this stage were no small matter and could well end his path as a martial artist.

Once inside the truck, Yang Fan lay down in the cargo bed and, rocked by the journey, drifted into sleep.

...

When he awoke, a familiar figure greeted his eyes—a tall, elegant woman.

“Teacher Ouyang?” Yang Fan called uncertainly.

“Yes, don’t move. I just treated you. Your injuries aren’t too serious, but you must rest well, or your martial path may suffer,” Ouyang Yunlei said, busying herself with an array of jars and bottles at the bedside.

Hearing this, Yang Fan obediently lay back. “Teacher Ouyang, why are you here? And where am I now?”

Without turning, Ouyang Yunlei replied, “After you left the mountains, you were taken to the Yundian Military General Hospital. But your injuries were internal. While modern medicine could heal you, it would affect your future as a martial artist. Zhou Yiyi called the academy for help, and then Old Li Tian forced me onto a plane to get here. Honestly! Can’t you be more careful? You haven’t even been enrolled for long and I’ve already patched you up so many times. This time your teacher practically dragged me onto the plane! It’s exasperating, you know?”

Yang Fan’s face brightened at her words. “Thank you, Teacher. For coming all this way to save me—I have no way to repay—”

“Enough, save it. If you dare finish that sentence, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life in bed. Don’t thank me—thank your teacher. When Old Li heard what happened, he burst into the infirmary and forced me to the airport. He’s the one who truly cares for you. Talk to him when you’re back. It’s not as if I refused to come—why was he so rough, practically dragging me by the neck? Did he think I have no dignity?” Ouyang Yunlei said with a cold face, though a smile tugged at her lips.

Though Yang Fan had no idea why she was in good spirits, he wasted no time in flattering her. “Haha, Teacher, you must be joking. Still, I must thank you. When I see Teacher Li, I’ll scold him for being so rough. How could he treat Teacher Ouyang like that? I’ll make him apologize to you.”

“You’ll make Old Li apologize to me? Are you still dreaming or just boasting?”

“Really! I’ll make him apologize.”

“Very well, I’ll be waiting. If you can’t manage it, I won’t treat you anymore. Now, take this.” She handed him a handful of round pills, eyeing him with mock severity.

Yang Fan swallowed the pills and Ouyang Yunlei turned to leave. At the door, she looked back and said, “Don’t forget—have Old Li apologize to me,” and left without waiting for his reply.

Staring at the closed door, Yang Fan felt a pang of regret. He had boasted too much. Who was Li Tian? He was not just Yang Fan’s teacher, but the kind whom one formally acknowledged through a master-disciple ceremony. A single word from him could silence a Martial King or two eighth-rank venerables. Could Yang Fan really make such a figure apologize to Ouyang Yunlei?

He scratched his head in distress.

What a boast that was!

...

Half an hour later, as sleepiness stole over Yang Fan again, the door opened. In came Xie Sihua, Zhou Yiyi, Jiang Chao, Jiang Xiaoyi, and Mu Qingshan. Upon seeing Yang Fan awake, their faces lit up with joy.

Yang Fan had fainted as soon as they left the mountains and had been unconscious for two days. Now, seeing him awake at last, a great weight was lifted from their hearts.

Yang Fan glanced at them from the bed... Of all times, they had to come when he was feeling sleepy—these people really had no sense.

They crowded around his bed, but when Yang Fan shot them a glare, they exchanged uneasy glances. Who had offended him now?

After a moment’s silence, Zhou Yiyi spoke first. “How are you feeling? What did Teacher Ouyang say? Will it affect your future?”

Yang Fan half-opened his eyes and replied weakly, “Nothing serious. Teacher said I must rest well, or it’ll harm my martial path. But just as I was about to rest, you all barged in. Who knows what effect it’ll have now.”

The group’s faces darkened. What was that supposed to mean? They’d been watching over him for days, and the first thing he did when he woke up was complain about being disturbed? Did he have no conscience?

No one spoke for a while, until Yang Fan broke the silence. “If you have something to say, say it. If not, leave—I can’t sleep with you all standing here.”

Zhou Yiyi nearly exploded with anger. Was this guy the reincarnation of a “Jester Star”? He was infuriating.

With a dark face, she said, “Nothing special. Just wanted to tell you the mission is a success, the target confirmed, and we brought back three exotic beast carcasses—one first-rank, one peak third-rank, and one peak third-rank mutated beast. We exceeded the mission requirements, so the rewards have increased: two Qi Sea Fruits, three million in cash, and the disposal rights to the three beasts.”

Yang Fan’s face lit up with a smile. Mu Qingshan, seeing him grinning foolishly, started chuckling as well. The others could only sigh at the two fools.

“So, how will we split it?” Yang Fan asked eagerly.

“Take a guess,” Zhou Yiyi said, walking out without another word. The others followed her, leaving Yang Fan alone, shouting after them, “Wait, don’t go! Let’s discuss this. I just want the White Tiger’s carcass, one Qi Sea Fruit, and a million cash... Don’t go, let’s negotiate—eight hundred thousand then... six hundred thousand, come back! If you leave like this, I won’t be able to sleep!”

Hearing Yang Fan’s shouts down the corridor, Zhou Yiyi and the others were all smiles. Let him get away with teasing them all the time—now, while he’s down, they would have their fun and let him have a taste of his own medicine.

Mu Qingshan was in particularly high spirits. Listening to Yang Fan’s indignant cries, he thought, Let’s see how you sleep now—this feels great.

With delight, the group decided to go enjoy a grand meal to celebrate.

Meanwhile, as the footsteps faded down the hall, a cloud of gloom descended over Yang Fan’s heart.

Just you wait, all of you—once I’ve recovered, I’ll make you pay.