Jade Mountain summit, Grand Academy Hall.
All the Directors, Libationers, and Supervisors of the Imperial Academy had gathered at the Grand Hall, faces shifting gloomily as reports kept arriving from outside. With each new message, their expressions grew darker. Only the Young Heavenly Demon Patriarch on the Sage’s Seat remained calm and unbothered by victory or defeat.
Report to the Grand Rector: Dao Gate’s Dao Heir has defeated the Second Prince!
Dao Heir has defeated Prince Jiuyin of Nanping!
Dao Heir defeated Princess Duoduo of Xiping!
Ling Shi Ji of the Tiance Mansion has also lost!
Lin Qiuhuo was injured by the Dao Heir!
...
After a long while, no more reports came, but everyone’s faces were now extremely grim. The lack of new reports meant no Imperial Academy scholars dared challenge Lucas Lin, the Dao Heir, any further. The academy’s pride and fighting spirit had been crushed by this young Dao Heir, leaving them to watch helplessly as he blocked the gate.
A Libationer frowned and said, “Our Imperial Academy has produced countless experts over the years, pillars of the nation. Can we really not find anyone to match the Dao Heir?”
A Supervisor shook his head. “There are such people—every few years we have three or five geniuses no weaker than the Dao Heir. But once they leave the Academy for government posts, they’re no longer considered students. Unlike sect disciples, our scholars don’t remain tied to the Academy after graduation.”
Everyone let out a heavy sigh. Daoist Lingyun said, “Are we just going to let this Dao Heir block our gate? How humiliating!”
The hall fell silent.
Suddenly, Master Faqing of Qingyang Hall said, “We should report this to the Imperial Preceptor and have his disciples come. Maybe they can defeat the Dao Heir.”
“Monk, the Imperial Preceptor’s disciples aren’t Academy students. Even if they defeat the Dao Heir, would Dao Gate really accept it?”
Just then, a grand sky-ship drifted to a stop atop Jade Mountain.
Several young people descended from the ship and entered the Grand Academy Hall. Their leader bowed and said, “Teachers, we are disciples of the Imperial Preceptor. He heard of Dao Gate’s challenge and sent us here.”
The Libationers, Supervisors, and Directors exchanged glances, then all looked to the Young Heavenly Demon Patriarch. One Director said gravely, “Grand Rector, the Imperial Preceptor’s disciples aren’t Academy students. Can they represent us in battle? This decision is yours.”
Libationer Barrett, his beard bristling, slammed the table and shouted, “Nonsense! What good is it if the Imperial Preceptor’s disciples defeat the Dao Heir? They’re trained by the old ways, just like sect disciples! If this gets out, Dao Gate will rebel! If Dao Gate rebels, all the righteous sects will rebel! Who will bear that blame? Who can afford it?”
The Director snapped, “You’re a Libationer, you have a point. So what do you suggest?”
“What do you suggest?”
Libationer Barrett burst out laughing, his voice sharp: “Whatever we do, it’ll be better than you Directors! You spend all day holed up with your dusty books, claiming to study Dao and divine arts. What have you actually produced in all these years? If you had any skill, you’d have come up with a way to counter the Innate Arcane Canon, and our scholars wouldn’t be this humiliated, powerless to stop someone from blocking our gate!”
The Directors flared up, shouting, “All the divine arts we’ve developed go straight to you! It’s you Supervisors and Libationers who are useless, unable to train good scholars!”
“Well said! And what about the Medical Hall? What do you do all day? You teach scholars to refine pills and gather herbs, but never handle any real work. Every time something happens, it’s ‘this scholar was poisoned and coughing blood,’ or ‘that scholar’s face turned black from toxins!’ Yet you still have the nerve to take a salary!”
The Imperial Physicians—who were also Supervisors—were enraged. Physician You trembled with fury, stammering, “If it weren’t for us saving lives, half the scholars would’ve died from poison or cultivation mishaps! It’s you Directors who are useless, always late with the pill and herb records we ask for. The Dowager Empress’s illness was cured by a mere brat. Why don’t you all just die?”
“Old fool, you should be the first to die. You couldn’t cure the Dowager Empress, but a brat did—why don’t you go hang yourself by an eyelash?”
...
The Grand Academy Hall erupted in chaos, the quarrel growing fiercer. The Imperial Preceptor’s disciples watched, bewildered.
After a moment, Libationer Barrett suddenly laughed, “Enough, enough, stop arguing. Since none of us has a solution, isn’t the Grand Rector here? What do you think, Grand Rector?”
Everyone looked toward the Young Heavenly Demon Patriarch on the Sage’s Seat. He rubbed his temples, clearly annoyed by the shouting, and said, “The Imperial Preceptor’s disciples aren’t Academy students. If they fight and win against the Dao Heir, Dao Gate will seize the excuse to rebel. They’d have a legitimate reason, and the empire would be at a disadvantage. So, let’s invite the Imperial Preceptor himself.”
Everyone was taken aback, not understanding his meaning. Even the Imperial Preceptor’s disciples looked confused.
“Dao Gate are all stubborn literalists.”
The Young Heavenly Demon Patriarch stood up, smiling. “They only recognize dead principles. Cheating or tricking them won’t work. So let’s do it openly. The Imperial Preceptor hasn’t lectured at our Academy for ages, but he used to come often, teaching Dao arts, sword arts, and divine abilities. Some scholars were half his disciples. You all go back and invite the Imperial Preceptor to come and teach our scholars.”
The Imperial Preceptor’s disciples were startled, bowed in agreement, and left the hall, boarding their sky-ship.
Libationer Barrett mused, “Grand Rector, you mean to have the Imperial Preceptor teach sword arts and divine abilities, then let our Academy’s scholars defeat the Dao Heir?”
The Young Heavenly Demon Patriarch nodded with a smile.
Libationer Barrett raised three fingers. “Three days. Only three days! Old man, do you really believe the Imperial Preceptor can train a genius who’ll beat the Dao Heir in three days?”
“I do.”
The Young Heavenly Demon Patriarch smiled. “Barrett, don’t underestimate the Imperial Preceptor. He’s the number one under the gods—his abilities are beyond imagination. And besides...”
He walked to the hall entrance, gazing at the mountain gate below, a cold smile on his lips. “That brat never does anything without a reason! I thought he’d lose patience and challenge the Dao Heir, but he’s managed to hold back. Well, this time we’ll invite the Imperial Preceptor over—he’ll benefit from it!”
Imperial Preceptor’s Mansion.
“The Grand Rector wants me to come and lecture?”
The Imperial Preceptor listened to his disciples’ report, slightly surprised. “That old fox—what’s he up to now? He could make you Academy scholars with a single stamp, so why insist I come in person?”
One disciple said, “The Grand Rector thinks Dao Gate only recognizes dead principles. If they know we’re your disciples, they’ll refuse to accept it and use it as an excuse to rebel.”
The Imperial Preceptor smiled. “Dao Gate really are stubborn. I met the Dao Lord years ago—he’s just like that, only recognizes dead principles. Fine, I’ll go. Summon the Poison Prince.”
Warren Foyne arrived. The Imperial Preceptor handed him a dagger. “You’ve seen my old wound. Recreate it on me—make it convincing.”
Warren, startled, carefully traced a bloody wound across the Preceptor’s chest, then used blood as paint to make it look even more real.
“Make it smell a bit rotten,” the Imperial Preceptor said, eyes glinting.
Warren sprinkled some powder on the wound, giving it a faintly rotten smell.
“Add some perfume.”
Warren did as told, layering perfume over the scent. The Imperial Preceptor changed clothes, then had a maid dab rouge on his cheeks for a sickly flush.
When everything was ready, the Imperial Preceptor smiled. “Now I can fool the rebels, right?”
Warren grinned. “You mean there are rebels in the Academy? Then you’d better bring some guards, to look less confident.”
“A place as big as the Academy is bound to have a few rebels hiding inside.”
The Imperial Preceptor understood. “But this is the capital—who would dare kill me here? And the Academy has more experts than the palace. No need for extra guards. You come along, though, in case the Dowager Empress tries to take you out.”
Warren breathed a sigh of relief; that was exactly what he wanted—to have the Imperial Preceptor bring him along, so the Dowager Empress wouldn’t try to kill him.
At the Academy, the bell suddenly tolled, echoing across the mountain.
The scholars guarding the gate heard the bell and hurried up the mountain. Quinn Shepherd was puzzled; Lynn Ling explained, “That’s the assembly bell. When it rings, all scholars must gather at the Grand Academy Hall. The Grand Rector probably has something to announce.”
Wes Young fretted, “Is it because we can’t beat the Dao Heir? Are they going to disband the Academy?”
The other scholars glared at him, and Wes Young quickly shrank back.
When they reached the summit, the area in front of the Grand Academy Hall was packed—princes, nobles, and commoner scholars alike.
After a moment, everyone had arrived. The Young Heavenly Demon Patriarch smiled and said, “Imperial Preceptor, please.”