Chapter 37: My Choice

After finishing reciting the second section of the Spirit Refining scriptures, Fang Cun stopped. He looked seriously at the old woman.

She had kept interrupting him, teasing him, testing him so many times. Now he had recited everything flawlessly. She should finally believe he had memorized the entire first volume of the “Classic of Spirits.” No matter how you looked at it, he had passed this hurdle!

“It seems your aptitude truly matches your brother’s!”

The old woman’s gaze beneath her half-veiled hood fell onto Fang Cun’s face. She silently studied him for a long while.

Fang Cun quickly clasped his hands in salute and said softly, “I’m slow-witted, student. Just fortunate…”

“You’ve memorized it before?” The old woman looked up at him upon hearing this.

Fang Cun hesitated briefly, then shook his head. “Actually, no.”

“Well then, you have the makings of a natural genius! What’s the point in false modesty?” The old woman said coldly. “Look at these useless lumps in the Yuanzhi Pavilion. If they could manage what you did, why would they be stuck here?”

The surrounding disciples were stunned. Expressions of hurt and bitterness appeared on their faces. “What did we have to do with this?”

The old woman coldly eyed Fang Cun twice. Suddenly, she raised her hand in a beckoning motion. Several thick volumes of scriptures soared from the front desk towards her, hovering by her side. Her gaze swept over them, and she retrieved the thickest one. She slowly placed it on the desk before Fang Cun.

“Memorizing the ‘Classic of Spirits’ alone is insufficient; that is merely the compendium,” she stated. “The Way of the ‘Classic of Spirits’ is profoundly mysterious and unfathomable, interconnected with all things, extending into endless methods. These texts contain insights I gained through intense study of the Classic of Spirits. If an unworthy person so much as glanced at them, I would pluck out their eyes. But as you are my student, I will withhold nothing. I will teach you everything. Take this and study it.”

She paused for a moment, then added, “For the first twelve main Gu heart-incantations, I give you three days to comprehend them thoroughly!”

“Otherwise…” A cold smile seemed to flicker at her lips. “…I shall punish you.”

With that final chilling remark, she turned and walked away.

Within the Study Pavilion, the other students looked at Fang Cun, their expressions suddenly turning thoughtful, almost amused.

“Notes that thick…”

Fang Cun, too, felt a headache brewing. He couldn’t quite grasp what this old woman was truly after. Why make him memorize the “Classic of Spirits,” then thrust her own dense notes on him to study? What was her goal?

Unable to unravel her motives for the moment, he composed himself and sat for a while before opening the notebook.

A quick flip through revealed that the first third or so of the massive tome was dedicated to the so-called “Twelve Main Gu Heart-Incantations,” detailing various refining methods. Gazing at it, he saw a dizzying array of names, permutations, and different crafting techniques. It was overwhelming… dense… intricate…

“Huh?”

Instinctively recoiling from the obscure, strange nature of these methods, Fang Cun swept his eyes over the text. But then he froze.

He discovered, to his surprise, that this Gu sorcery – something he had never encountered before – suddenly seemed incredibly simple under his gaze. The feeling was uncanny. It was like opening a mathematics book expecting complex stellar trajectory equations filled with arcane symbols and terms, only to realize upon closer inspection that all the symbols simply boiled down to the same basic principle…

One plus one equals…

“Was Gu sorcery really this straightforward?”

Fang Cun was inwardly startled. He kept reading, his intuition telling him the content was unexpectedly simple, almost plain.

He only needed to glance at something to understand it thoroughly. More than that, numerous questions and deeper principles seemed to naturally arise within his mind. It was as if the instant he glimpsed these profound methods, the deeply ingrained verses of the “Classic of Spirits” resonated with them. They combined, transforming into knowledge that settled securely within his consciousness. He felt a sudden dawning of clarity, an understanding impossible to lose!

He spent much of the day reading this notebook. Page by page, word by word, sentence by sentence.

When he was done, he closed the book cover, lost in thought.

Was it because the notes were too simple?

No. They were filled with precisely the kind of strange methods and intricate Gu insect refinement techniques that would baffle most people. They were incredibly complicated and obscure.

So, why had he learned so quickly?

After this single reading, he felt he had almost completely grasped the various simpler methods recorded within. Even for the more complex and intricate ones, he understood the core principles after just one pass. A few more readings, a few actual attempts, and he felt confident he could master them. Stranger still, the notes spurred entirely new doubts within him, a burning curiosity to delve deeper and seek answers.

Concentrating slightly, Fang Cun turned his gaze towards the “Classic of Spirits” itself!

Could it be… was it because he had memorized the “Classic of Spirits”?

Was the “Classic of Spirits” truly the fundamental compendium of the Gu sorcery path? Memorizing it gave him this seemingly miraculous learning boost?

No. It wasn’t just memorizing it. It was the fact he had used Merit to absorb the “Classic of Spirits”!

Well, those three thousand Merits were definitely well spent!

Memorizing the “Classic of Spirits” wasn’t merely rote memorization. It had seemingly bestowed upon him a kind of… talent!

A natural aptitude for cultivating the Way embodied in the “Classic of Spirits”!

When class ended later, Instructor Lingxiu departed without a word, observing Fang Cun sitting motionless at his desk, continuously flipping through the notebook.

The other disciples in the pavilion also stole glances at him, their expressions a mix of curiosity and observation. As they filed out, someone finally snickered.

“Heh,” one of them laughed quietly to the group nearby. “I think that Instructor Lingxiu is deliberately trying to put this Second Young Master Fang through his paces…”

“Definitely, notes that thick! Grasping it in three days? That’s just torture!”

“Ha! If he actually understands it within three days, you see Instructor Lingxiu’s Gu tube? I’ll eat the thing for him!”

“……”

Amidst the murmuring, Shen Shiming walked past them with a detached expression. “Cease this gossip behind someone’s back!” he reprimanded sharply.

The chattering disciples fell silent, gaping dumbly as Shen Shiming walked past, leaving behind an utterly righteous silhouette.

The first day passed, and Fang Cun didn’t rush to find Instructor Lingxiu. The second day came and went, and he still didn’t hurry to her. After all, she had given him three full days. Fang Cun was also wrestling with the idea: If he told her on the third day that he had mastered the twelve Gu methods – which, frankly, he was almost certain he could grasp within two days – wouldn’t it make his ‘aptitude’ seem… unnaturally monstrous?

As for Instructor Lingxiu, strangely, on the afternoon of the second day, she suddenly appeared before Fang Cun.

“How goes it?” she inquired impassively.

Fang Cun had no choice but to stand up. “I’m still studying, Instructor,” he replied.

“I asked how many you have comprehended,” she clarified, her face a mask.

Fang Cun hesitated briefly, considering how to answer without sounding unbelievable. “…Five,” he finally said.

Sigh, best to lowball it. Leaves room for later.

“Five?”

Instructor Lingxiu’s voice suddenly rose a fraction, startling the other disciples who were packing up to leave.

A flicker of confusion passed through Fang Cun as he looked at the instructor. The old woman’s expression held a trace of something odd, something unreadable. Without further comment, she swiftly palmed an opened a small black bamboo tube. She held it right up to Fang Cun’s face. Inside wriggled an insect with three distinct segments: one slightly reddish, one ash-black, and one deep azure. She snapped the lid shut just as quickly.

“What insect is this?”

Seeing her serious expression, Fang Cun wavered momentarily before answering. “The Soul-Devouring Gu from the Swamps of Southern Mire.”

This particular insect was precisely the fifth Gu he had encountered within Instructor Lingxiu’s notes.

Seeing he had identified it correctly, a shift occurred in the instructor’s demeanor. She concentrated for a beat, then pressed, “How is it refined?”

Fang Cun also replied deliberately: “Capture it with basket-weave reed, sun-dried for three days until crimson red, then steep it in aged liquor. Weave a cage from it. Find a rooster three years old, with a golden comb. Collect one ounce of blood from its comb. Position the cage in the swamp at the hour of Ji (around 9-11 AM)… When capturing the Gu, starve it for seven days. Then feed it red-eyed ant eggs to drive it to madness… At the same time, employ a consciousness-splitting technique for refinement… After forty-nine days, it will be perfected. Command it to harm foes – it can devour the soul and injure the target’s very foundation…”

Instructor Lingxiu seemed to momentarily… sway on her feet.

She studied Fang Cun intently for a long moment. “Come with me,” she commanded abruptly.

Fang Cun nodded, shouldered his book pouch, and followed behind her.

The two walked away together, out of the Study Pavilion, leaving only a gaggle of stupefied disciples standing in their wake.

“THWACK!” “THWACK!” “THWACK!”

The air was suddenly punctuated by the sharp sound of books being slammed forcefully back onto desks.

Amidst the frustrated slams, a small, distinctly sheepish murmur rose hesitantly: “He… he only tested him on the fifth one… that… that’s not… not even the full understanding… right?”

“……”

Instructor Lingxiu led Fang Cun to a gazebo not far from the Study Pavilion and sat down.

Fang Cun stood respectfully beside her like a student.

Instructor Lingxiu gazed coldly at him for a moment before suddenly asking, “How many have you comprehended?”

Fang Cun hesitated slightly. “Five…”

“Do not lie,” Instructor Lingxiu said firmly. “I can tell!”

Fang Cun sighed silently to himself. “Six. But the sixth one isn’t quite mastered yet.”

“Six…”

Instructor Lingxiu’s body stiffened almost imperceptibly. She let out a soft, low sigh. “Indeed…”

Fang Cun felt a pang of frustration inside. You said you could tell, yet you clearly missed this…

Instructor Lingxiu sighed for another moment before stating, “You are not your brother’s equal.”

Fang Cun: “?”

Instructor Lingxiu continued, her voice cool and level, “What I showed you is exactly what I showed your brother years ago. What I asked you to do is what he did then. You fall short because he comprehended twelve paths in just three days. You only managed six in two.” She paused, her voice tightening slightly as she shook her head slowly, “Yet… such talent is still… remarkable.”

A flicker of astonishment crossed Fang Cun’s face. “My brother was that capable back then?”

Seriously? How do you have a cheat device and still not bother hiding how awesome you are?

……

As Fang Cun was lost in these thoughts, Instructor Lingxiu suddenly turned to him, her gaze sharp and intent.

“I am willing to take you as my personal disciple,” she declared.

……

“What?”

Hearing Instructor Lingxiu’s words, Fang Cun was genuinely stunned.

He looked at her, puzzled. The elderly woman remained expressionless, her gaze icy as it rested on him. Her face, not particularly aged yet radiating a gloomy aura, now held a distinctly serious edge…

Personal disciple…

What an immensely significant proposition!

Every Disciple in the Academy dreamed of becoming an Instructor’s personal disciple!

It meant the Instructor would teach you everything they knew, pass down their legacy. It signified direct guidance and support throughout your entire path of cultivation. It meant inheriting everything they had accumulated in their lifetime – connections, Magic Treasures, cultivation techniques, wisdom – bestowed upon you without reserve. It transcended the ordinary bond between Instructor and Disciple; it was akin to the deep master-disciple ties of ancient times.

Before this, Fang Cun had wondered if the talent he’d shown might meet some Instructors’ criteria for taking a personal disciple.

But none had approached him. Not even Lan Shuang Instructor, the one seemingly most favorable towards him, had hinted at such a thing.

So why would this old woman, who constantly seemed to make things difficult, suddenly make such an offer?

“Why are you willing to take me as your personal disciple, Instructor?”

After a long silence, Fang Cun finally asked the question.

He understood his situation perfectly. His family stood on precarious ground; his fate was uncertain. Few would willingly tie themselves to him now. Simply put, as her student, the Fang Family’s troubles wouldn’t entangle Instructor Lingxiu personally. But as her personal disciple? That was entirely different. Enemies of the Fang Family would absolutely target his master.

The choice made by the other Instructors… that was the normal, expected choice.

This old matron… she was truly unpredictable.

“Because you remind me very much of your brother.”

Instructor Lingxiu’s reply was as straightforward as her offer. After a brief pause, she added, “I taught your brother the ways of Witchcraft and Gu as well. I saw his talent then. I also offered to take him as my personal disciple.” Her voice held a trace of something unidentifiable. “Ultimately… he refused me. He chose that Old Scholar – aged, knowledgeable only in martial techniques, someone whose actual cultivation realm and foundation were… unremarkable.”

She paused, then added, almost to herself, “Perhaps… had he chosen me then… he would not have met his end today.”

Her words settled heavily in Fang Cun’s heart.

“Admittedly…” Instructor Lingxiu looked directly at Fang Cun, choosing her words carefully, “Had he practiced my Witchcraft and Gu, he might not have become the renowned Immortal Master Fang Chi. Many still consider such arts… esoteric. Unorthodox.” Her gaze sharpened. “But you should be able to grasp the true predicament your family faces now. Consider the number of enemies your brother made who wait only to strike at the Fang Family. Think of the friends he counted on – how many dare step forward to help you now? And think… what might soon befall you personally…”

“My words during the lesson at Yuanzhi Pavilion… they were for your ears too,” Instructor Lingxiu stated coolly. “Learning Witchcraft and Gu from me isn’t the orthodox path. But it might at least… preserve your life.”

“Preserve my life…”

Fang Cun silently repeated her words. He reflected on them slowly.

Yes. It could save my life.

But the meaning, for him, was different than mere survival for others. To choose survival this way meant abandoning his own future prospects. Witchcraft and Gu arts were, in the end, side paths. If he chose them, if he accepted Instructor Lingxiu as his master, his cultivation path would forever turn from the grand way of Qi Refining. He would become a master of unorthodox arts, perhaps joining a County Sect, but any hope of entering the Divine Palace, let alone the Immortal Palace, would be forever extinguished.

Yes, it was true. Some enemies watching him from the shadows might lose interest.

Especially those seated high within the Divine Palace or Immortal Palace.

Because then, they would know he could never possibly rise to stand beside them on the heights.

……

“You honor me with your willingness to take me in, Instructor. I am grateful beyond words.” Countless thoughts flashed through Fang Cun’s mind. He finally lifted his head slowly, his voice steady. “However… This disciple still hopes… to walk a much farther path.”

Instructor Lingxiu’s expression tightened noticeably. A coldness crept into her voice. “Walk as far as your brother?”

Fang Cun didn’t answer. His silence was his reply.

A flicker of something dark and stern passed over Instructor Lingxiu’s face. Her tone grew almost harsh. “Your talent pales beside your brother’s. He reached such heights… only to end in annihilation, body and Dao destroyed. And a wastrel like you… dare to aim equally high?”

Fang Cun regarded Instructor Lingxiu with deep seriousness. He did not verbally respond to her accusation.

Deep within him, however, a flame surged – ambition usually suppressed and hidden from view.

I will indeed reach the same heights as my brother.

This wasn’t about proving superiority or inferiority to him.

It was because without reaching that height, he might never truly know how his brother died.

Without reaching that height, he could never hope to avenge him.

His brother had been a good man. Perhaps his cruel end wasn’t entirely unexpected.

He hadn’t even been completely surprised.

But the lack of surprise didn’t mean acceptance.

It didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight to bring justice for his brother!

……

“Regardless. I thank you for your kindness and offer, Instructor.”

In the end, Fang Cun remained silent for a very long moment. Then, he bowed respectfully to Instructor Lingxiu.

He turned.

He walked away.

The Classic of Spirits held value; learning the ways of Witchcraft and Gu now would leverage what seemed like a strong affinity within him.

But… he did not desire it.

Some convictions need not be voiced aloud. Some decisions require no constant affirmation to stand resolute.

Ever since he entered these Academy gates, only one path truly held his ambition. He sought only to walk the bright, main road – to ascend to the same lofty position as his brother, perhaps even higher. To reach that vantage point. To finally see, with his own eyes… how those people caused his brother’s death. To then make them listen. To make them understand clearly, in a way they could never anticipate: Because you rejected a good man… I will make his absence felt. Because you hated that righteous soul… I have come.

This is how it would be.