Chapter 27: An Analysis of the Humor:

"Alright, look. It held for a minute. By exam standards, that’s already a ninety. Simple, right?"

Simple? I’d like to ask where exactly that simplicity is.

The students, especially the girls in the front row, wore bewildered expressions. As high school seniors, they had spent months trying to perceive the flow of spiritual energy—a prerequisite for awakening their transcendent abilities. Yet, despite being so close to Old Liang, they hadn't sensed a trace of spiritual energy while he was restraining the Magic Spirit.

"You didn't feel anything, did you? That’s normal. When I performed this task, my intent was solidified. The reason the Magic Spirit’s movement stuttered was that it hit a 'Wall of Intent.' Of course, when you take your exams, your focus will inevitably leak a bit. Those of you with a good foundation in meditation will fare slightly better..."

By Li Xingming's standards, Demon Liang was a great teacher. He could translate complex, abstract concepts into things that were easy to grasp. In the process, rigorous concepts inevitably became less precise, but for beginners, accessibility was what mattered most. Besides, from an exam-taking perspective, most students at City No. 1 High School were only hoping to pass the awakening test; they would likely stop at the First Rank, destined for desk jobs or simple technical work. If a student showed talent, Old Liang would provide them with rigorous and advanced instruction on the side.

However, the core competency of a Magic Spirit Introduction teacher lay in one-on-one guidance. The teacher had to identify the specific mistakes each student made while attempting to communicate with a Magic Spirit using their consciousness and then correct them. It was an energy-draining task that relied heavily on experience. Only a hardened veteran like Old Liang, who had spent years in the military, could handle it. If a fresh-faced college graduate were to try, they’d likely pass out after coaching three or four students.

But Old Liang’s teaching style was indeed too harsh; sensitive students couldn't take it. Several of the first students had been berated by him, and one girl had even been reduced to tears.

When it was Ouyang’s turn to go up, his "Swine-type" Magic Spirit bolted like a dog off its leash, tearing around the circle on the podium before letting out a goofy, pig-like squeal. It leaped up and slammed right into Old Liang’s face, covering him completely.

Swine-types had a distinct odor—cool, slimy, and slightly fishy, like pork belly that had been sitting in the back of a refrigerator for three days.

"Hontou ni sumimasen!" Ouyang apologized with a bow, his movements so practiced he seemed like a born politician.

Old Liang wiped his face with a tissue, expressionless. "Steady yourself. Try again."

Ouyang actually had decent affinity for Magic Spirits; he was just a bit too flighty.

It wasn't until all the other students had finished that Li Xingming finally took the stage. He barely managed to keep the Swine-type within the circle for twenty seconds. It was exactly the class average. Old Liang didn't offer him any pointers, just flashed a grin.

"Alright, that’s all for today’s class. Think about that feeling after you leave. For those who can afford it, find a private tutor to get some hands-on practice. Don't stay up late. Pay extra attention to your rest before the exam. Don't pull all-nighters studying the 'Swine-type' only to fail the exam and end up becoming a corpse yourself."

"..."

"That was the joke."

"..."

"Uh, what do you kids call it? A pun."

Sparse, awkward laughter rippled through the classroom.

"Class dismissed!"

Ouyang shot up from the back row and bolted out the rear door to beat the rush to the cafeteria. Li Xingming didn't join the food-scrambling army. He waited until the classroom was nearly empty before following Old Liang to his office. At City No. 1 High School, having a private office was the true sign of status for a Magic Spirit Introduction teacher.

"Come in."

Old Liang sat stiffly, placing the Swine-type Magic Spirit on the desk facing Li Xingming, as if preparing for a formidable battle. Li Xingming just stood there, relaxed and slouching.

Old Liang tried to communicate with the Magic Spirit using his intent.
The spirit didn't budge.
Old Liang’s face turned red from the effort.
A few minutes later, he gave up with a long sigh. "Sigh, I'm getting old."

"Actually, it's fine. These things are just stubborn."

"True."

Demon Liang looked at Li Xingming with a complex expression. In his life, he had seen many exceptionally gifted young people, but none could compare to the boy in front of him.

Magic Spirit affinity was a metaphysical soul attribute—or rather, in the transcendent realm, any indicator related to the soul was metaphysical; current human understanding of the soul remained quite shallow. Li Xingming’s affinity was impossibly strong. For instance, with this Swine-type on the desk, if Li Xingming told it not to move, no matter how hard Demon Liang concentrated, it stayed frozen.

This was a free-roaming Magic Spirit that had no contract with Li Xingming and was technically public property of the school, yet it was so obedient to him. And Demon Liang was a Second Rank, Upper-tier transcendent—even if his combat ability had diminished after sustaining serious injuries, his soul remained robust. It could only be said that Li Xingming was simply too heaven-defying.

Every time after the Magic Spirit Introduction class, Demon Liang would bring Li Xingming to his office, using the boy’s talent to train his own mental strength—it was like weightlifting for his consciousness.

As for Li Xingming’s performance on the podium, it was purely an act of playing weak. When Demon Liang had once asked why, Li Xingming’s answer was that his identity was sensitive and he didn't want to get involved in the bloody internal power struggles of the Li family; he preferred to remain an inconspicuous nobody on the sidelines.

They went through a few more rounds of wrestling for control over the Magic Spirit.

"Get out of here." Old Liang rubbed his temples, looking as refreshed as if he’d just finished a heavy workout.

"Goodbye, teacher."

"Wait!"

Old Liang waved his hand to stop Li Xingming and pulled a beautifully packaged syringe from his drawer. "Nutrient booster. Your little girl is about to awaken, right? Take it."

"I don't need it."

"Consider it payment for helping me exercise."

"I'm not being polite; objectively, I really don't need it," Li Xingming said earnestly. "The intervention is too strong. We prefer natural promotion; we don't use drugs."

"Damn it... why do you sound just like Ouyang?"

"It's Ouyang who sounds like me. There's no reason for the father to sound like the son..."

"Hahaha, get lost!"

Demon Liang laughed and cursed as he chased Li Xingming away.

A few days later, in front of the awakening test site.

"Ah-Ming, I'm so nervous..."

Winter was deepening, and the morning was quite cold. Jiang Qianqian was stomping her feet in place, her body shivering slightly. Sigh, that was the one bad thing about winter exams—it was easy to get nervous, and when she got nervous, she shook, and her stomach felt a bit uneasy.

Li Xingming nodded, then immediately adopted his usual method for helping Jiang Qianqian calm down.

Without warning, he reached out and gave her bottom two quick pats.