In the end, sleep was out of the question—because Sima Jiao clearly had no intention of sleeping. For him, even something as reckless as entering another person’s spirit mansion was treated as casually as eating or drinking, but that didn’t change the fact that it was a deeply intimate and dangerous act. With so many strangers present, it was impossible for him to truly rest easy.
Since he couldn’t sleep, he simply sat there in boredom, fingers flicking idly to create a string of small glowing spheres that hovered above his palm. At first, Liao Tingyan thought he was just passing the time. But after watching closely, she realized each sphere bore a character—surnames. He wasn’t idling; he was making selections.
Selections that would decide his next target.
While Sima Jiao ignored the lecture in favor of this deadly lottery, Liao Tingyan stayed awake for the opposite reason—the teacher’s words had captured her attention. The Yuan Ying cultivator at the front was explaining fundamentals like the Five Elements’ spirit roots and the circulation of spiritual energy, exactly the kind of basics Liao Tingyan had been clueless about. So she settled in with a cushion, resting her arms comfortably as she listened.
Thanks to Sima Jiao’s presence, their corner was a blind spot. No one could see what they were doing. Which meant she could sprawl lazily, enjoy the lecture in comfort, and actually learn something.
Her cultivation, she realized, was like a pavilion built in midair—powerful, but without solid foundations. Cultivation levels determined how much spiritual energy one could command and how powerful their techniques would be. Spirit roots decided what elements a person could wield and what techniques they could learn.
The spells she’d fumbled out on her own were like solving math problems without formulas—fine for simple calculations, but impossible once things grew complicated.
Cultivators, unlike her, relied on the wisdom of ancestors who had left behind countless techniques. Raising one’s cultivation wasn’t enough; one had to study techniques too. Gengchen Immortal Sect’s dominance came precisely from owning the largest trove of such manuals.
Put simply, cultivation was like a character’s level in a game, while techniques were the skills you unlocked. That thought made everything much clearer.
“Ancestor, have you learned many techniques?” Liao Tingyan turned toward her “desk-mate,” who was still fiddling with those ominous spheres.
His expression darkened slightly, but he still answered. “No.”
So every technique he used was self-created. Liao Tingyan wasn’t surprised—his methods were brutal and devastating, clearly honed through killing. To create techniques, especially deadly ones, required genius.
Thinking of her only original spell—using water to make skincare masks—she couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and inferiority. The ancestor was truly… formidable.
Up front, the teacher demonstrated a water-based spell. Liao Tingyan tried to imitate it, failed, tried again, failed harder. Finally, Sima Jiao, unable to bear watching, caught her hand. A strand of his spiritual energy slipped into her meridians, forcefully guiding her flow.
Immediately, a surge of icy energy burst from her palm, condensing into a tiny ice tower. She looked at it in wonder, a little like the Heavenly King holding a pagoda.
Thanks to his blunt guidance, she had mastered in a moment what she couldn’t manage in two attempts. Though small now, the ice tower could be expanded or reshaped with more power, even into weapons.
“Such a trivial spell, and you still managed to fail twice,” Sima Jiao sneered, touching the tower. Heat surged from his fingertips, melting it into vapor, which he then flipped into sharp ice needles—effortless, like breathing.
Liao Tingyan: “…”
“And you’re still learning from that half-baked teacher?” With another flick, the ice needles hardened into gleaming metal.
Boss?? Ice to metal? Even cheating should follow some kind of rules!
“My spirit roots are different,” he said casually. “You can’t copy me, but you can use other methods.”
And with that, he seemed to suddenly discover the joy of teaching, gripping her hand and running spiritual energy through her meridians. He explained Five Elements cycles, layering attack, speed, and defense techniques, turning her into a living experiment.
“This one, if you pour enough water energy, could wipe out an entire city within a hundred miles.”
Liao Tingyan: “…No thanks.”
“Wood cultivators are useless, but for you it’s different. You could turn someone’s body into wood, then set it on fire—ashes instantly.”
Liao Tingyan: “…I think that’s enough.”
“Earth and stone are the same principle. Condense earth into stone and crush your enemies—flesh and bones into paste.”
“Ancestor! Enough! My meridians are about to explode from your ‘practical lessons’!”
Sima Jiao finally let go, dissatisfied. “Core Formation stage cultivation is still too weak.”
If that blood coagulation petal hadn’t lost its effectiveness after one dose, she suspected he’d happily force-feed her another dozen just to push her straight to the peak.
“I think this is more than enough. Boss, rest. Here, have some beer.” She poured him a cup of spirit liquid she’d collected earlier.
He glanced at it, disdain in his eyes. “Beer? Nonsense.”
Of course. Getting him to drink anything was harder than stopping him from killing. In the end, the little black snake lapped it up instead, happily coiling on the table to play with the spheres.
One sphere rolled into Liao Tingyan’s hand, bearing the character “Wood.”
“You’re targeting the Shi clan and their allies? But how do you even know who their allies are?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.
After all, he’d only just left his mountain confinement. How could he possibly know so much?
Sima Jiao shot her his trademark “idiot” look. “They showed me themselves.”
…What?
He leaned lazily against the chair, idly spinning the spheres. “During the Spiritual Rock challenge, I saw which families sacrificed whom, which ones joined hands. Their relationships were obvious.”
She had thought he was just creating chaos that day. Turns out, it was calculated chaos.
Better not to think too hard about him. For a peaceful life, one must remain blissfully unbothered.
Sima Jiao gathered the spheres, brushed her fingertips, and said, “Pick one.”
Liao Tingyan plopped the black snake into the pile. “Let the silly child do it.”
The snake wriggled happily, grabbing three at once. Sima Jiao flicked its head away, scooped up the three spheres, and inspected them.
That night, he vanished without explanation and didn’t return.
The next morning, Liao Tingyan yawned her way into class. Without her “escort,” she was alone this time. A decent-looking youth in fine robes slid into the seat beside her, his expression dripping with eagerness.
“You’re the sister of those Night Tour twins, right? Funny I haven’t seen you before. Where’s your brother?”
Liao Tingyan looked at him with pity. Poor guy. He was doomed.
“My name’s Qi Letian. You must be Yong Lingchun, right? The Qi family and Wood family are close. Call me Brother Qi—I’ll look after you.”
Qi… Wait. Wasn’t Qi one of the surnames the black snake picked yesterday?
Wearing Yong Lingchun’s face, she looked harmless and sleepy, which only encouraged him. Mistaking her quiet for shyness, he leaned closer, angling to take advantage—
“Ah!” he yelped, clutching his backside as he shot to his feet.
The stern Yuan Ying cultivator at the front expelled him immediately.
Meanwhile, Liao Tingyan sat with the perfect posture of a good student, inwardly smug. The ice needles she’d learned yesterday had worked like a charm, though her control was clumsy—after stabbing once, they melted, leaving his pants soaked. Judging from his stiff walk, his buttocks must have frozen.
Bullying a lecherous young master with new skills? Surprisingly satisfying.
“…Today’s lesson is on souls and spirit mansions,” the teacher announced.
At once, Liao Tingyan straightened.
The teacher’s tone grew grave: “A spirit mansion is the most private, sacred part of oneself. If invaded, the result is injury or death.”
A mischievous student raised a hand. “What about Dao partners?”
The question drew laughter, but the teacher scowled. “Even Dao partners don’t easily enter each other’s spirit mansions. It is the most dangerous act of all. Only those who share life and death might risk it. You are all young—never indulge in such reckless pleasure.”
Liao Tingyan: “…”
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