Chapter 18: Good Teachers at the Academy

Though Fang Cun had realized someone in the academy meant him harm, he didn’t let it bother him much.

For one thing, the Fang Family was hanging by a thread these days, with countless hidden enemies. How could one or two more trouble him? Especially since he now had the Academy Head’s permission to join. He was an Academy Disciple in name, and by law, a Qi Refining student of Great Xia. Even if someone wanted to cause trouble, they wouldn’t dare do it openly.

Honestly, Fang Cun looked down on this kind of opponent. If they were truly brave, they’d just storm the Fang Residence directly. Only a coward would make a secret move on the Academy’s Back Mountain. He was always careful and planned to give them no second chance.

The only thing that gave him pause was how many enemies his elder brother seemed to have left behind…

He knew his brother’s temperament—offending people was normal, and deep grudges were nothing unusual. But if someone came after him over an old grudge against his brother, even trying to kill him… they might find that the two young masters of the Fang Family weren’t quite the same.

…

Early next morning, Fang Cun rose at dawn.

Elder Fang had prepared lavish tuition gifts overnight. Though Fang Cun had earned his place by braving the Academy’s Back Mountain, Elder Fang insisted the ritual gift was essential—an offering of rare treasures and Spirit Pills filled the carriage.

“Sell it all!” Fang Cun waved dismissively when he saw them. “Turn it into banknotes!”

Elder Fang pulled him aside, bewildered. “Banknotes won’t do! These are gifts for academy Instructors! I spent a fortune—these are irreplaceable heirlooms! Instructors will see the Fang Family’s sincerity…”

“Banknotes please people far more than fancy trinkets. Sell them all.” Fang Cun ordered the steward to unload everything except plenty of cash.

“Child, cash lacks elegance compared to priceless jade…” Elder Fang disapproved but yielded to his son’s insistence. He wanted to escort him but Fang Cun refused. Before, the academy treated Elder Fang like royalty. Now, even after Fang Cun’s admission, such respect was gone. Why make the old man endure that?

Today, Fang Cun entered the academy quietly—unlike yesterday’s spectacle. He traded his luxurious carriage for a plain black one pulled by two ordinary horses.

At the gate, the old steward recognized him and simply waved him through. Carriages crowded a clearing past willow groves. An old man holding a teapot scurried over before Fang Cun appeared.

“Who dares park here? Only instructors, Elders Mentors, stewards, and direct disciples use this lot! Everyone else leaves their carriage outside!” He called out.

Fang Cun got out wearing a cheerful smile, a banknote already in hand.

The steward grimaced upon recognizing him. “So it’s Second Young Master Fang! But even you, I…”

Fang Cun slid another banknote over.

The steward glanced about, pocketed both notes, and beamed. “Next time, I’ll feed and stable your carriage myself!”

Fang Cun left his carriage in the yard—even Xiao Qingliu had to wait inside. Following the steward’s directions, Fang Cun headed to the Name Enforcement Hall on a slope behind bamboo groves.

A white-haired elder sipped tea inside the pavilion.

“You must be the Fang Family’s Second Son?” He gave Fang Cun a glance.

Fang Cun stepped forward politely. “Disciple Fang Cun pays respects, elder.”

“Not a disciple yet!” The elder finished his tea without expression. “True, the Head agreed to admit you, but hear this: once you’re registered, you shed your mortal status. Glory? Inheritance? That means nothing here.”

Fang Cun politely offered banknotes upon seeing the lecture starting. “I humbly ask for your guidance…”

“Take this back! Are you trying to bribe—” The Old Scholar paused when he saw it was cash. The numbers on the notes caught his eye.

“Untraceable silver,” Fang Cun assured as he placed them on the desk.

Without batting an eye, the elder swept the notes beneath his sleeve. He retrieved a wooden waist token and slid it across. “Take this. Second Young Master Fang, you are now an Academy Disciple.”

Fang Cun lifted the heavy willow-wood token engraved with “Willow Lake’s White Xiang Academy” in seal script. “Fang Cun” sat amid intricate spirit runes. A red silk cord threaded it.

“My thanks.” He tucked the token inside his clothes. He didn’t want its cords dangling like keys from a belt!

The elder chuckled. “Come have tea some time.”

Next, Fang Cun went for discipline registration. At the Discipline Hall, a plump steward grinned. “Second Young Master Fang! Heard all about you—lavish spender, wild tales. But here in White Xiang Academy, we’re strict…”

Fang Cun nodded quickly. “Exactly!” He slid more banknotes across.

The steward struggled to refuse. His hand seemingly had a will of its own as he covered them. “Our 108 minor and major rules aren’t hard to grasp. Breaking them? Not ideal…”

Lastly, he visited the lodgings office.

“May I ask a favor?” Fang Cun began. “New disciples usually live on academy grounds. But my elder brother’s recent death weighs on my elderly parents. I request permission to return home daily to care for them.”

The steward frowned. “Qi Refiners must shed worldly ties to pursue immortality! We run an academy, not a—”

Fang Cun slid him banknotes. Without missing a beat, the steward tucked them away.

“…but family affection matters too. Your situation is special, so, yes.” The steward cleared his throat.

“Deepest thanks!” Fang Cun smiled.

“Think nothing of it,” the steward chuckled. “This academy is your home. We aren’t heartless!”

…

Fang Cun grew fond of the academy. It had great guys who understood rules!

And the academy elders liked him back: “Who said this Fang boy was some lumbering oaf?”