Chapter 31: Content with Ordinariness

Two biological brothers: one was the favored prodigy of the Dao Academy, the other lived in isolation in a corner of the family estate.

The gap between them was as vast as the difference between heaven and earth, enough to drive a person mad, yet Wang Changji showed no trace of resentment or bitterness. From beginning to end, he ate with complete composure.

It was as if eating were the most important thing in the world.

He ate at a steady pace and with great care.

He finished all his pork trotters and vegetables, swallowing the very last grain of rice. Only then did he look at his younger brother, his voice gentle: "Changxiang, what is it?"

"It's nothing major. I just finished a mission and thought I'd come chat with my brother."

"Be good, eat your vegetables. You can't just eat meat," Wang Changji coaxed softly, stroking the orange cat that was currently gnawing on a trotter, before turning back to Wang Changxiang. "Speak. You seem heavy-hearted."

"We went to investigate the disappearance of Xiaolin Town, but when we arrived, we found the entire place shrouded in thick fog that even a Breath-Blowing Tornado couldn't disperse. The whole town was filled with wandering souls, arranged into a Nine Palaces Wandering Soul Array based on the Nine Palaces formation... Little Orange!" At this point, Wang Changxiang suddenly barked in anger.

It turned out the fat orange cat had grown impatient with Wang Changji's constant attempts to tease it with vegetables; it had lashed out with a paw, leaving three bloody scratches on the back of Wang Changji's hand.

"You're so fierce." Wang Changji sighed helplessly, abandoning his efforts to make Little Orange eat its greens. He gently covered the wound on his hand with his left hand before saying to Wang Changxiang, "You're telling me all this about Daoist arts and formations, but I don't understand any of it."

Wang Changxiang lowered his head, his voice dropping as well. "But for some reason, I just wanted to tell you, brother."

Wang Changji rubbed his forehead with a finger. "Go on, go on."

"Do you know, brother? Someone used the lives of the entire Xiaolin Town to gather the wandering souls of the Fenglin City region from years past. Before City Lord Wei arrived, they condensed a phantom of the Ghost Gate and made it depart!" At this moment, Wang Changxiang looked like a child seeking praise.

"A phantom of the Ghost Gate? Is it that powerful?"

"To pay such a massive price, it is naturally extraordinary! With a phantom of the Ghost Gate, one can communicate with the Netherworld anytime, anywhere. The power of Netherworld Daoist arts can be increased by at least half! For instance, exorcism-type arts can completely leap across grade levels." At this, Wang Changxiang lowered his eyes again. "I wonder where the demonic practitioner behind this will bring calamity next."

"The Criminal Investigation Bureau will handle that. If Wei Quji fails, there is the Prefect; if the City Dao Academy cannot hold, there is the Prefectural Dao Academy, and behind the Prefectural Academy, there is the National Dao Academy. Do not worry yourself," Wang Changji comforted him.

By now, Little Orange had finished the pork trotter completely. Without so much as a glance at the plate of vegetables, it licked its paws and walked away with an air of arrogance.

Wang Changji then stood up to clear the table.

"I won't keep you any longer then," he said before stepping into the room.

Wang Changxiang watched his brother's silhouette disappear into the room in silence before turning to leave. However, as he passed the lounge chair where Little Orange was lying, his pinky finger suddenly flicked.

A nearly imperceptible wind blade sliced through the air with lightning speed.

Little Orange bolted upright, looking around in startled confusion. Half of its long whiskers were blown away by the wind.

"If you dare scratch my brother again... hmph." Wang Changxiang left the place with a smile playing on his lips.

It only occurred to him that when they were young, how much his brother had longed for the Daoist arts and how much he had loved that transcendent world. But now, no matter what he spoke of, that passion was nowhere to be seen.

It was as if he had already resigned himself to such a life.

Wang Changxiang's footsteps, in the end, could not become light.

...

Today, the instructor was teaching the Ding-grade Mid-rank Daoist art, *Flame Blade*. It was an advanced version of the Ding-grade Low-rank art *Attached Flame* and was one of the foundations of Fire-element Daoist arts.

It involved condensing flames into a blade, using scorching Fire-element Essence to wound opponents; it was also quite effective against filth such as Yin ghosts.

In truth, once Daoist arts reached this level, they were already superior to weapons forged from ordinary iron.

Jiang Wang had already memorized the hand seals and precautions for this art, but he suddenly thought of Wei Yan's long saber. That blade's edge was peerless; it was certainly no ordinary weapon. Given Wei Yan's strength, ordinary iron would be nothing more than a burden to him.

He then thought of Li Jianqiu's sword, which hung at his waist year-round, thinking it must also be extraordinary.

Thinking of this made him feel a bit envious. His own sword had been half-ruined after cutting a vengeful ghost last time; he had spent money to replace it, but it was still just an ordinary pattern-iron sword. He could not afford truly powerful blades, nor did he have the connections to acquire them.

He wondered, however, what kind of power the weapons held by those great martial artists who entered the Dao through martial arts possessed.

He was so lost in thought that he failed to notice the atmosphere in the classroom. It wasn't until Ling He gave him a quiet nudge that he snapped back to reality.

The instructor was an old man nearing sixty, quite stiff and stern, surnamed Xiao. The students privately called him "Iron-faced Xiao."

The current situation was that after Iron-faced Xiao finished explaining the techniques, he randomly selected a few students to demonstrate. When Fang Heling was chosen, he actually managed to complete the art, albeit stumblingly. Although the flames of the *Flame Blade* flickered unsteadily, he had completed it nonetheless.

Even Iron-faced Xiao seemed somewhat satisfied, but then the fellow suddenly spoke up: "Senior Brother Jiang Wang opened his meridians just before me. Why don't you try this Daoist art as well? If anything goes wrong, you can ask our instructor for guidance."

Thus, Iron-faced Xiao's gaze fell upon the distracted Jiang Wang.

*This is bad,* Jiang Wang thought. He rose from his prayer mat and said honestly, "I haven't completed my Foundation yet."

Fang Heling, who had entered the inner sect at the same time, was already able to perform Daoist arts, yet he had not yet succeeded in his Foundation. The looks from the other students were somewhat strange.

"If you haven't completed your Foundation, do you not need to listen to the lecture?" Iron-faced Xiao said, his eyes widening. What he hated most were students who tried to be clever or lazy. They had clearly stepped onto the path of transcendence, yet they did not cherish it, treating it only as capital to show off in front of mortals.

"I was wrong," Jiang Wang said, lowering his head to admit his fault bluntly.

Iron-faced Xiao said coldly, "Go back and transcribe the *Purple Void Scripture* one hundred times. Until you finish, you are not to attend my classes."

"Yes," Jiang Wang replied with a bowed head, cursing inwardly. The full name of the *Purple Void Scripture* was the *Purple Void Exquisite Supreme Scripture*, the fundamental Daoist canon of the Yujing Mountain lineage. Every Daoist of the Yujing Mountain lineage could say they knew it by heart. There was truly no need to transcribe it; Iron-faced Xiao was doing this purely as punishment.

Most importantly, the entire canon was nearly thirty thousand words... just how long would it take to copy?

But he knew he couldn't refuse; otherwise, with Iron-faced Xiao's temperament, the man might actually roll up his sleeves and beat him.

For the remainder of the lesson, Jiang Wang struggled to keep his spirits up, not daring to slacken in the slightest. He finally endured until Iron-faced Xiao left with his hands behind his back, at which point Fang Heling swaggered over to him.

"Oh, Junior Brother Jiang, I am truly sorry. I didn't realize you hadn't even completed your Foundation yet!" In the cultivation of the Dao, time is irrelevant, and seniority is determined by cultivation level; thus, Fang Heling naturally changed "Senior Brother" to "Junior Brother," his tone full of feigned regret. "After opening my meridians, it took me fifty-three days to complete my Foundation. I felt it was far too slow and felt ashamed. I thought that given Junior Brother Jiang's usual prestige, you should have completed it long ago... Sigh, what a mess."

The standard Foundation formation used by the Zhuangguo Dao Academy, the *Returning Origin Array*, had a total of eighty-one nodes. Given the harvest of two Dao Primordials from practicing meridian-clearing twice a day, fifty-three days for a Foundation could hardly be called slow. This was because many progress delays occurred due to errors in shifting the array nodes.

Currently, the fastest Foundation record in the entire City Dao Academy belonged to Zhu Weiwu, who succeeded in just nine days, surpassing all previous records. Judging by that inconceivable speed, his Dao-meridian True Spirit could not possibly be of the same level as a common earthworm True Spirit like Jiang Wang's. However, the specific level of a True Spirit involved personal privacy and could not be known.

That said, for the general disciples of the Fenglin City Dao Academy, sixty to ninety days was considered normal.

It was no wonder Fang Heling was so self-satisfied.

He made no attempt to hide the provocation in his eyes; he very much wanted to see this proud fellow fly into a rage. He was even simulating in his mind how he would use his brilliant Daoist arts to decisively defeat this bumpkin who could only rely on swordsmanship.

But Jiang Wang merely smiled and turned to walk away.

There was no anger, only complete indifference.