Chapter Forty-Four: The Makeshift Troupe

So many talented prodigies with outstanding performances, yet at this moment, no one is paying them any attention. The heads of the various universities are all watching intently.

Occasionally, a gasp of surprise could be heard, for as more and more people sought trouble with Lin Qingyun, it was no longer just Haicheng University students who suffered. Of course, Haicheng University’s numbers were still the highest.

Now, there was no one left to gloat over others’ misfortune. Although only people from seven or eight schools had been attacked so far, given the current situation, even those responsible for schools that hadn’t been involved felt uneasy.

If it weren’t for the prohibition on contacting the freshmen, they would have long since reached out to their own students, urging them to behave and not go looking for a beating.

Unfortunately, contact was impossible. All they could do was watch the situation unfold and count… and count…

At this moment, someone couldn’t help glancing at the Desert Wind King, Nangong Aoshi, clad in golden armor.

When this local lord arrived, he had said he was just here to observe and, as usual, should have left after ten minutes or so. He never lingered for long, especially since he had specialists to handle such matters and would hardly remain for a freshmen field trial.

Everyone knew that, were it not for his daughter among this year’s freshmen, he wouldn’t have come at all. Even so, if he wanted to know how his daughter was faring, there would always be someone to report to him.

Yet ever since the issue with Lin Qingyun began, Nangong Aoshi hadn’t moved, and no one dared question him. His presence made everyone uneasy, and they hesitated to speak openly about Lin Qingyun. Still, secret voice transmissions flew back and forth, and even when nothing was said aloud, suggestions and advice to Feng Shouyi poured in.

Some hoped he could control Lin Qingyun and prevent him from disrupting the freshmen’s trial. Others wanted to broadcast a public notice to all freshmen, forbidding any acts of vengeance during the event.

This was the nature of the communications with Feng Shouyi, while private discussions through voice transmission covered an even broader range of topics.

Yet they seemed unaware of just how vast the power gap was with Nangong Aoshi. To him, their secret transmissions might as well have been shouted for all to hear. He was veiled by his armor, so they had no inkling.

Most of them did not realize this, but those who were strong—such as Feng Shouyi and the veteran General Qin Xiong—looked distinctly uncomfortable. They could make out some of the transmissions, and knew full well that Nangong Aoshi could hear every whispered word, especially as some remarks even mentioned Nangong Lingyue.

“Silence.” Suddenly, General Qin Xiong barked the command.

The few people who had been quietly discussing numbers or which school’s students had been attacked were stunned, staring at the old general in confusion, not understanding what had provoked his anger now.

Before Qin Xiong could speak further, Feng Shouyi, the Deputy Minister of Education, gave a helpless shake of his head and turned to the Desert Wind King with a faint, apologetic smile.

“Forgive us, Wind King. Their transmissions carry no malice—they are simply a little too relaxed in their private conversations. I’ll deal with them when we return.”

Most people showed little reaction—after all, they were all university presidents and knew what was going on. But a few, who had only recently taken up their positions in remote areas and had little contact with true powerhouses, flushed hot with embarrassment.

Feng Shouyi’s words could not have been clearer. It wasn’t that they couldn’t understand, only that they didn’t know the extent of a true powerhouse’s abilities. If they were that slow-witted, they wouldn’t have become university presidents in the first place.

“Youngsters may be ignorant, but the elders must be held accountable. If such people were in my domain, I wouldn’t stop at merely breaking their mouths.” The Desert Wind King’s gaze swept coldly over a few people—the ones who had blamed Nangong Lingyue, claiming that her romantic entanglements with Lin’s family shouldn’t have caused such a stir.

His gaze was icy, and the very air and wind around them seemed to freeze in an instant, especially for those few individuals.

Suddenly, their hearts began to race wildly, bleeding internally, as if their very blood vessels might burst. Injured from within, they found themselves utterly unable to move.

Everyone present could clearly see seven or eight people frozen in place, blood trickling from the corners of their eyes and mouths.

“If there is a next time, I will show no mercy. Even if the Minister himself comes, I will see you dead.”

This scene left everyone dumbfounded, and for the first time, they truly grasped the terror that a regional lord could inspire.

Even Feng Shouyi, who had first realized something was wrong and given a warning, said nothing now. He could only sigh in resignation. Those who had been chattering with him earlier were one thing, but these few had secretly mentioned the marriage between Nangong Lingyue and the Lin family.

Students could say what they liked in private, but the Desert Wind King himself was right here.

He hadn’t caught all the details—his own cultivation was far below that of Nangong Aoshi—but by the time he sensed something was wrong, it was too late.

Especially after Qin Xiong warned him there was killing intent—a sign that the Desert Wind King was truly enraged.

Who would have thought a freshmen field trial would come to this? Chaos on one side, and now, even among the school leaders, such a fiasco.

There had been no warning, no sign at all.

Feng Shouyi was at a loss for words. At first, when they discussed Lin Qingyun, some failed to realize they were mentioning Nangong Lingyue. He had tried to warn them, and soon enough, most realized their mistake.

He had thought that would be the end of it, never expecting matters to escalate like this.

Internally, he cursed these fools, but could only sigh that the world was nothing but a troupe of amateurs—never imagine some people to be so high and mighty, or so clever and wise.

Limited perception, insufficient restraint, and a lack of intelligence lead to such astonishingly foolish acts.

“You few, return and resign your posts. Enter seclusion and reflect on your mistakes.” Both Feng Shouyi and General Qin Xiong had already decided that if the Desert Wind King truly wished to kill, they would stop him at any cost. Even if it meant angering him and having to negotiate with higher authorities later, so be it.

But seeing the Desert Wind King had not gone that far, they were relieved. Feng Shouyi gave the order for their removal.

At his signal, staff members came to escort them out.

The atmosphere grew even more awkward.

Having the Desert Wind King present already made everyone tense, but no one had expected that while Lin Qingyun was busy thrashing those who sought to provoke him, so many school leaders would also disgrace themselves here.

A century after the revival of spiritual energy, with decades of field trials behind them, this was the first time such an incident had ever occurred.

Their embarrassment was obvious, while the Desert Wind King, hidden behind his armor, showed no sign of leaving. The others could only resign themselves to the situation.

Feng Shouyi swept his gaze across the gathering, thinking that when they returned, these people needed a thorough lesson. It wasn’t just the freshmen who needed practical experience—their leaders clearly did as well.

Once those people had been taken away, silence fell in the command center once more.

To break the tension, Feng Shouyi had the staff focus on other matters. The number associated with Lin Qingyun continued to rise, but after exceeding forty, the pace began to slow.

After all, there were only so many hot-headed fans, or those hoping for a reward by targeting Lin Qingyun—and they still had to actually cross his path.

As Lin Qingyun pressed further into the trial grounds, he began to put distance between himself and those entering from the perimeter.

Early on, despite some obstacles, it truly felt as if the freshmen trial was too simple. Lin Qingyun understood that this was only his impression; in many areas, the attacking demon plants, poisonous flora, and various monsters were not so easily dealt with.

For one, his combat power was already the pinnacle among the freshmen; according to publicly available information, none of the others had reached the seventh rank of the Qin Heart Realm.

His knowledge and experience were also a significant advantage—something only he truly understood. It was as if a veteran of decades of struggle returned to childhood, inhabiting the body of a schoolboy.

At the very least, he had no interest in being ranked first in this little game. That was not his goal.

So he did not use his strength and experience to blaze a path straight through. Instead, he wandered at his leisure, slaying the occasional monster or demon plant, and observing just how many hard-headed fools would come looking for trouble.

Whether they were thoughtless fans or opportunists hoping for a reward—he cleared them out, using it as a way to pass the time.

In the blink of an eye, night began to fall and nearly a day had passed.

By now, most of the prodigies like Nangong Lingyue had already advanced far beyond Lin Qingyun in their respective regions. He continued to progress, but not by seeking out the most dangerous monsters for points.

Instead, he circled the outer edge, moving forward layer by layer.

When night fell, most lone freshmen would carefully seek out safe spots, for even if those at the Qin Heart Realm could see in the dark, danger increased after sunset.

Not to mention, the threat from venomous insects far outweighed that of ordinary monsters.

Yet prodigies like Nangong Lingyue, Song Yichen, or even Zheng Haoyue’s team remained vigilant, hunting to increase their scores. Lin Qingyun, however, found an abandoned building soon after dark.

It appeared to have once been a financial institution, not quite a bank, but with a vault made entirely of alloy.

Here, Lin Qingyun immediately began his secluded cultivation.

Though technology had advanced, its essence remained unchanged. As long as no surveillance equipment had been pre-installed, such places would not be monitored.

Of course, even knowing this, Lin Qingyun merely cultivated—nothing more.

“This kid is cautious, seeking out a safe place to train…”

“Did you notice? He doesn’t seem to care much about his ranking. Even Song Yichen has surpassed him now—already in the top twenty, and on a rampage as if spurred by jealousy…”

“Indeed. Judging by his actions, he cares more about thrashing those who bother him than about hunting monsters for points…”

“Seventy-nine already…”

…