Flandre's office, which doubled as his living quarters, was not far from the small training ground where Tang San had clashed with
Flandre settled into the chair behind his desk and looked at Tang San, a complex light suddenly flickering in his eyes. "How is the Great Master?"
Tang San nodded. "My teacher is doing well."
Flandre looked at him with some surprise. "You're his student? No wonder, no wonder he even gave you this belt. The day I saw you wearing it, combined with your age, I knew you'd be coming to my Shrek Academy. I just didn't expect that you were actually his disciple. Back then, he once told me that one day he would cultivate a genius Soul Master who would shock the continent. It seems you're the one he chose."
Tang San swept his hand across the Twenty-Four Bridges Moonlit Night and produced a letter, placing it before Flandre. "Before I left, my teacher asked me to pass this letter to the headmaster only after I had passed the academy's entrance examination and been admitted."
Hearing this, a flicker of sorrow and a trace of a smile passed through Flandre's eyes. "He's still as stubborn as ever. That's just his style. So that old fool has finally decided to contact me, has he?"
As he spoke, he slowly tore open the envelope and withdrew the pristine letter inside. Tang San could clearly see that Flandre's hands were trembling slightly as he opened it.
Tang San had no idea what the letter contained. He could only watch as Flandre's expression shifted again and again.
At times Flandre looked delighted, at times furious—joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness, nearly every emotion played across his face.
"Good, good, you old coot. You stubborn old bastard—did you really have to prove something? What was there to prove? Don't you know that, in fact..."
Flandre seemed to grow somewhat unhinged, muttering words that Tang San couldn't understand.
Suddenly, he jerked his head up and fixed his gaze on Tang San. "Since you are his proof, then you must never let him down. Now go—prepare for tonight's lesson. It won't be easy."
Tang San had completed the task the Great Master had given him. Though Headmaster Flandre struck him as rather peculiar, he had no mind to dwell on it. After his battle with Zhao Wuji, Tang San had discovered many of his own weaknesses, and he would rather spend his time cultivating.
Setting aside Tang San and the others who were cultivating on their own,
"Oscar, just how long is one lap?" Ning Rongrong's voice carried a note of helplessness.
At the start, she had been brimming with confidence. Though she was an auxiliary-type Soul Master, her father had always insisted she keep up her physical training back home—his words had been nearly identical to what Flandre had said earlier. So her body wasn't at all weak. While she couldn't compare to a Battle Soul Master, years of training had given her a healthy physique, and she was especially good at running.
However, from the time they had left the academy until now, Oscar's lead hadn't even gotten them through a single lap, and a considerable amount of time had already passed. At this pace, forget lunch—they'd be lucky to make it back for dinner. What was worse, her stamina was steadily dropping, making it impossible to maintain this speed for much longer.
Oscar managed a bitter smile. "I told you when we left that this was an impossible task. But don't worry—two auxiliary Soul Masters together, surely we won't go hungry. Want to have a little something to—"
Ning Rongrong shot him a glance. Though she was still young, her soft, alluring eyes carried a hint of coquettish charm.
Oscar felt his bones go soft under that gaze. He chuckled and, with the air of someone showing off a treasure, whispered, "Your boy here's got a big sausage." With a flash of light, a fragrant sausage materialized in his hand, and he offered it to Ning Rongrong.
"This sausage of mine has recovery as its first Soul Ring skill. It not only promotes wound healing but also restores stamina. Have some. With my sausage to keep us going, forget twenty laps—even two hundred wouldn't be a problem."
Ning Rongrong stared at Oscar with a peculiar look, then suddenly blurted out something utterly savage: "Pfft. This broad's got two thick bread slices of her own. Dream on."
With that, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda materialized gracefully beside her. The agility enhancement kicked in, and her speed surged as she dashed forward.
"Uh..." Oscar was completely stunned. Not just him—even if Tang San or
……
The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan. The Grand Council Hall.
On the north side of the great hall, facing south, sat the seat of honor—a grand chair carved from rosewood, its back inlaid with a massive jade stone. The jade was a deep emerald green, radiating a gentle, warm luster—clearly a piece of the finest warm jade.
A man sat upright in the rosewood chair. His face was as refined as polished jade, his nose straight and his features square—a gentle, scholarly appearance. His immaculate white robe was spotless. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, his gaze soft and warm, looking for all the world like an ordinary man. His sleek black hair fell loosely behind his back, everything about him natural and unpretentious. At this moment, he was looking down at a young man kneeling on the floor below, dressed in a white fitted suit.
"Reporting to the Clan Master—Young Miss has arrived at Shrek Academy and has been successfully admitted," the young man said respectfully.
The middle-aged man nodded, a hint of helplessness crossing his face. "It's probably good for that little tyrant to go out and toughen herself up—otherwise she'll turn the whole Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan upside down. How is Shrek Academy?"
(End of chapter)