“Well… that’s a long story…”
Luan Ling was just about to make up an excuse to brush it off when Si Zhuo suddenly spoke first.

 

“It was the Headmaster,” Si Zhuo said calmly. “He said our talents were too outstanding and worried the other students might feel psychologically unbalanced, so he required us to start from zero.”

 

Zhu Yin: ?
Li Xiao: ??
Dugu: ???

 

Luan Ling stared at him in shock. Just how much hatred was this guy planning to attract for himself?!

 

From a certain perspective, what Si Zhuo said wasn’t that different from Wen Yuan’s actual meaning—but psychological imbalance was clearly something he had added on his own!

 

“Ahem, you don’t need to worry about the manual labor,” Dugu said solemnly. “My teaching style is a bit special. I believe my students all have this ability, so I’ve decided to teach directly through practice. You’ll all be participating shortly.”

 

What did that mean?

 

“It means that whenever a step requires magic, I’ll teach it on the spot—and you’ll learn it on the spot.”

 

Teaching and learning on the spot… no matter how you looked at it, this felt like the result of not wanting to prepare lessons.

 

Ever since entering this academy, Luan Ling’s urge to complain had become completely uncontrollable.

 

Among everyone here, the only relatively normal one was probably Second Senior Sister. Aside from being a bit cold, she didn’t have any obvious issues—and she even played the xiao beautifully.

 

Forget it. She wasn’t the type to be defeated by trouble. Maybe this disaster-mode learning style would actually help her return to her former self faster.

 

“Before we talk about blueprints, I need to introduce a spell to you,” Dugu said.

 

He stood up and snapped his fingers. A house model resembling a child’s stick-figure drawing appeared before them.

 

“Mind Projection. Li Xiao should be familiar with it.”

 

Some spells were essentially tools—tools that helped save time and achieve complex goals.

 

“Creating an image is easy.”
Dugu raised his hand again and snapped his fingers toward the four of them.

 

Immediately, Luan Ling felt a strong urge to cast a spell. She raised her hand and released a whole flock of ducklings. Beside her, Si Zhuo projected a model of a garden estate. Second Senior Sister’s projection came with music—it was a celestial orchestra performance. In front of Senior Brother was a dried-up well.

 

This teaching method—directly guiding their thoughts into spellcasting—was something Luan Ling had never seen before. The effect was remarkable; she quickly memorized the sensation of casting the spell.

 

“But projection only lets you see,” Dugu said, tapping his temple. “The hardest part is rapid calculation.”

 

The stick-figure house in front of him collapsed into several lines, which then rearranged themselves into the character for “calculation.”

 

“In later generations, tools exist that can perform massive calculations in place of humans. Whether immortals can reach that level through cultivation depends entirely on your efforts.”

 

Humans used wisdom to create tools to compensate for computational limits—from knotted ropes to abacuses to computers, from simple addition to the Pythagorean theorem to complex functions. This was the beautiful progress of civilization, and also the fundamental reason gods could find their path.

 

Gods were never beings above humanity. Faith and expectation created gods. Gods merely took one step ahead on the foundation humans provided. Every ability gods possessed was derived from human ideals and creativity.

 

“Now try imagining your projections with more realism,” Dugu said.

 

Luan Ling focused intently on the ducklings. She watched as they happily waddled out of the void and into farmland, growing freely, getting bigger and bigger—until they finally turned into fragrant, golden roasted ducks.

 

She swallowed involuntarily.

 

There was a saying that starving yourself was how one became an immortal. That wasn’t entirely wrong—immortals didn’t need to eat often. But food was temptation, and even immortals weren’t immune.

 

Meanwhile, the others’ projections began to go off the rails. Si Zhuo’s architectural lines twisted into strange shapes. Senior Sister’s once solemn symphony turned inexplicably cheerful. From Senior Brother’s dry well, a disheveled head slowly emerged, crawling upward!

 

“Everyone’s doing great!” Dugu clapped his hands. “Now that we have the blueprints, let’s start preparing materials!”

 

He waved for them to stand and led them toward the bamboo forest.

 

“Immortal arts aren’t just for helping others or oneself,” Dugu said, stopping in a clearing. “You must also learn defense.”

 

“And personally, I believe the best defense is offense. So the second thing you’ll learn is the most basic form of divine power release.”

 

This time, Dugu didn’t let them act immediately. Instead, he turned to Zhu Yin.
“Little Zhu, demonstrate with your instrument.”

 

Zhu Yin paused. “Which one?”

 

“The one you’re best with.”

 

Without another word, Zhu Yin sat on a stone and summoned a phoenix-head konghou carved with orchids. Slowly, she raised her hands.

 

Clear music rose through the bamboo forest, flowing between the stalks and spreading across the mountains.

 

The bamboo leaves touched by the sound trembled as if blessed by rain after a long drought, rustling softly in their final moment of peace.

 

Then—
Zhu Yin’s right hand swept across the strings.

 

A phoenix-like cry exploded outward, snapping Luan Ling out of her trance—and shaving the surrounding bamboo clean.

 

“This is divine power release,” Dugu said, applauding. “Silent killing, effective in both long-range and close combat.”

 

“Oh, and when you get better at it,” he added, glancing sorrowfully at the bald surroundings, “please aim for individual trees. This… is really ugly.”

 

Zhu Yin coldly put away her konghou and returned to the group.

 

“The bamboo should be enough. Let’s head to the back mountain to cut other trees—you can practice there.”

 

The back mountain was basically their territory. Cutting trees was fine. Burning the mountain down, however… would still land them in prison. After all, forest fire prevention was everyone’s responsibility—even gods.

 

Thinking of this, Dugu cast a wary glance at Luan Ling, who was experimenting with flight. With a serious expression, he said,
“The back mountain is under the jurisdiction of the Bodhi Patriarch’s Tree God. Burning a mountain is equivalent to killing someone’s parents. Remember—don’t let your mouth get out of control.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Luan Ling laughed awkwardly.
“Sir, that was all youthful recklessness and poor judgment. I promise it’ll never happen again.”

 

At least not while she was here.

 

“Sir,” she added timidly, “Junior Sister and I have another question. Could you teach us a teleportation spell?”

 

Ascension was easier—but she absolutely couldn’t bring herself to ask. A god who couldn’t fly was just too embarrassing.

 

Since students were asking proactively, Dugu gladly demonstrated the complex teleportation spell step by step.

 

“So this is the legendary must-have spell for sneaking out, skipping class, and eloping…” Luan Ling muttered.

 

She practiced blinking between trees, utterly fascinated. She’d known how to fly since childhood, but heavy coursework kept her indoors. Learning this spell now thrilled her.

 

This might have been the first time she actively wanted to learn magic. And for the man beside her—it was probably the first time he was forced to.

 

Si Zhuo looked at the immortal tree before him and hesitantly raised his hand.

 

“Well? Isn’t it fun?”
Luan Ling leaned on his shoulder and teased him from above.

 

“Tch.” Si Zhuo flicked her hand away. “Nothing special.”

 

She laughed, holding onto a tree.
“You look like one of those stubborn elders in mortal families who refuse to accept new things.”

 

“Come on…” She circled around him, clicking her tongue. “Being honest is cuter, you know~”

 

She tended to push her luck. Si Zhuo glanced at her, pointed at the model in front of them, and sneered.
“Doesn’t your courtyard seem a little too big?”

 

“I was wrong.”

 

Luan Ling immediately straightened up and apologized.
“Big brother, my mistake. I’ll never do it again.”

 

Knowing when to yield was a smart immortal’s virtue.

 

Hmph. Once the courtyard was built, she’d flip the table!

 

Si Zhuo gave her a meaningful look.
“If you don’t start cutting trees soon, you’ll only have two livestock sheds to live in.”

 

Livestock sheds?! That’s crossing a line! Do young people really speak like this without checking if the person involved is nearby?!

 

Not far away, Dugu felt an arrow pierce his chest.

 

“Well then, I’d better work hard. That thatched hut probably wouldn’t survive even a drizzle.”

 

Did you really have to say “drizzle” specifically?!

 

Second arrow.

 

“Oh right, Senior Brother,” Luan Ling asked while chopping wood, “I noticed Sir’s house only has one bed. How do you and Senior Sister arrange sleeping?”

 

“Oh, I originally shared a room with Sir, but Zhu Yin refused to live there. She said outside was cleaner than inside, so it was assigned to me.”

 

So that’s why Zhu Yin insisted on cultivating in the peach grove?!

 

Third arrow—straight through the heart.

 

Dugu swore on the spot that if he ever got involved in construction again, he’d be a dog.

 

“Ow!”

 

A sudden cry rang out from the forest.

 

As the teacher, Dugu reacted instantly. In a single breath, he located the source.

 

On a small slope hidden by crooked branches and overgrown weeds lay a curled-up fairy. She clutched her slightly swollen abdomen, her face twisted in pain.

 

With a wave of his hand, Dugu cleared the branches, crouched down, checked her hand, then placed his palm above her abdomen.

 

“Sir, what happened?” Li Xiao arrived first, followed by the others.

 

“She was bitten by a demonic creature.”

 

Dugu frowned. Beyond the academy’s back mountain lay the Western Heaven Gate, and beneath it a desolate land filled with demons. Stragglers wandering up here weren’t uncommon.

 

Fortunately, her injuries weren’t severe—likely caused by a minor demon. Otherwise, he’d have had to summon Wen Yuan.

 

Dugu dispelled the remaining poison from her hand. Zhu Yin took out a bamboo flute and played a soothing melody. Slowly, the fairy regained consciousness.

 

“Where… am I?” she asked weakly, her hand never leaving her abdomen.

 

“The back mountain of the Heavenly Academy. Black Cloud Mountain.”

 

“Black Cloud Mountain…” she murmured, then looked toward Luan Ling.

 

Luan Ling froze and took a step back, silently praying this wasn’t an amnesia plot.

 

She hadn’t done anything!

 

Thankfully, this wasn’t a melodramatic scene. The fairy looked at her and raised a hand.
“My immortal herbs… could you help me retrieve them?”

 

So she was just a fairy gathering herbs.

 

Luan Ling finally relaxed. She turned, spotted a basket nearby, and brought it over to the fairy’s side.