Chapter 186: Two-Subject Top Scorer

Immortal Capital.

Under the direction of Dinghai Zhenjun, the examiners of each subject began grading the candidates' papers and assigning scores.

The divine sense of cultivators was extremely efficient; it was expected that all papers would be graded within six hours, then double-checked repeatedly over the next two days to ensure no problems existed and that the multiple cross-grading examiners showed no major disagreements.

"Dao-soldier rebellion…"

Dinghai Zhenjun took out a report and pondered for a moment.

"Rebellion?"

Huang Mao Zhenjun, who had been wandering about, was drawn over and glanced at the report a few times: "Li Yun Sect Dao-soldiers have a 33.4% probability of rebelling under life-and-death crisis; Tianhai Sect Dao-soldiers have a 14.1% probability of rebelling under life-and-death crisis…"

"These trash don't know gratitude, and they dare to rebel?!!"

Huang Mao Zhenjun's nose was bent crooked with rage: "Should they go take a look at what kind of life the lower realms of Brother Xuanwu's Heavenly Palace live, what kind of life the immortal sects lived when they were dogs for others?!"

"Although mortals also live in a feudal society, it's always a prosperous age; although cultivators can't aspire to Nascent Soul, those who can cultivate do so normally, without any restrictions!"

"They dare rebel even with such good days?!"

"Perfectly normal."

Dinghai Zhenjun smiled: "Compared to Brother Xuanwu's Heavenly Palace, the immortal sects are naturally much better, but it's still exploitation—over eighty percent of resources must be handed over, cultivators serve as Dao-soldiers fighting wars for the sects, those who don't meet combat standards labor at spirit-herb bases and spirit-mineral bases until the retirement age of eighty. It's normal for them to harbor grievances."

"Normal my ass!"

"Who's being normal with them? How do you usually handle this kind of thing?"

"Direct rebels are executed in the Illusion Realm; Dao-soldiers of the same squad are punished as mining slaves for twenty years of labor; the sect they belong to must increase its resource tribute to ninety percent for ten years."

Dinghai Zhenjun replied without thinking.

"Too light, far too light!"

Huang Mao Zhenjun was extremely dissatisfied: "All Dao-soldiers of the same squad and sect should be executed. Take this Li Yun Sect for example—the rebellion probability is too high, there's a problem with their sect's training and ideological education. The recent several batches of Dao-soldiers should all be destroyed."

"On the tax side, increase it by fifteen-tenths within twenty years; if they can't meet it, exterminate them, and the immortal sect will cultivate new Dao-soldier sects on their old sites."

"New ones are better, new ones will be more obedient."

"Taxes can be raised by fifteen-tenths?"

Dinghai Zhenjun exclaimed, very curious about the old cultivators' tax methods.

"Stupid! It means letting their sect use their own savings to fill the tax shortfall, the immortal sect gets a nice blood-replenishment wave, and even if they can't complete it, it's still the same blood-replenishment."

"Then we'll do as the senior says."

Unlike the debate over the Great Sun Sword Child, Dinghai Zhenjun casually agreed.

"Senior, the college entrance examination is over. There's less than a day left before the final sentence deadline given to you by the Central Array Spirit Computer. You'd best find a nearby prison…"

He kindly reminded.

"Bah! Young whippersnapper, your skin itches, doesn't it? Who needs you to care?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

……

After sleeping straight for three days, Jiang Ding woke up.

The Taiqing Flying Sword hummed softly, his depleted divine soul had once again recovered to perfection, every meridian throughout his body was under his control, and innate true qi flowed through them in a gurgling stream.

Starting from the dantian, it surged into one hundred eight thousand eight hundred and twenty-two meridians, then returned to the dantian, repeating endlessly, cycling without cease.

"Ding!"

"All college entrance examination scores are out. Candidates may log into the Education Network to check their scores and apply for their preferred institutions."

The Array Spirit's notification made Jiang Ding startle, his heart surging with uncertainty.

Feeling somewhat anxious, he dared not act for a moment.

After a brief internal struggle, he summoned a search box within the Illusion Realm, entered the Immortal Sect Education Network's URL, clicked in, and logged in with his student number, ID number, name, and admission ticket number.

He clicked open his college entrance examination scores.

Name: Jiang Ding

Language Arts (Full marks 150): 138

Mathematics (Full marks 150): 137

Ideological Morality (Full marks 150): 149

Science Comprehensive (Full marks 300, Biology, Chemistry, Physics): 287

Humanities Comprehensive (Full marks 100, History, Geography): 98

Bonus Electives—

Cultivation (Full marks 300): Innate Peak, 300

Main Weapon Elective (Full marks 60): Heavy Machine Gun (Full marks 30): 30; Tank Driving (Full marks 30): 0

Cold Weapon Secondary Weapon Elective (Full marks 40): 40

Combat Practice (Full marks 150): 147

Total Score: 1326

"You scored 1326 in the annual Immortal Sect College Entrance Examination, ranked 86 in the Immortal Sect, ranked 5th in Qian Province."

"You achieved the highest score in the annual college entrance examination in two subjects: Cold Weapon Elective and Ideological Morality."

"I'm the top scorer in two Immortal Sect college entrance examinations!"

Jiang Ding's expression turned solemn.

He stood up, summoned a mirror, and carefully examined the youth within, not missing a single detail, not even a single strand of hair.

"The strongest prodigy in the history of Rongcheng is none other than me."

"Too bad, I didn't reach the level of a second-tier Array Master in Tank Driving, Language Arts, and Mathematics, losing too many points—otherwise I'd be the undisputed Immortal Sect top scorer."

Jiang Ding felt some regret.

Straightening his appearance, he opened the cabin door and walked out.

"You're out, the college entrance exam is over, from now on you can mess around however you want… Holy crap!"

The logistics department teacher was still lying on a reclining chair, looking lazy, when suddenly with a whoosh, wind-type magic power flared, and in an instant he appeared before Jiang Ding.

"Great Sun Sword Child!!"

The deep-blue flying sword trembled slightly, then settled down.

"Teacher, it's not that exaggerated, right? I've told you not to call me by that nickname — it easily causes misunderstandings."

Jiang Ding said helplessly.

"Sorry, sorry!"

The logistics department teacher was an older cultivator with a beer belly. He rubbed his hands together, a little embarrassed, and said: "Everyone online calls you that. The name Jiang Ding is too common — there are at least several hundred thousand in the immortal sect… um, Jiang Ding, could you write a piece of calligraphy for me?"

He pulled out a sheet of xuan paper and a writing brush from somewhere, spiritual light flickering across them — they looked quite valuable.

At the very least, they were made of spiritual materials and a low-grade magic artifact.

"I can, but Teacher, are you sure my calligraphy has any value? To be honest with you, my handwriting isn't good-looking."

"Whether it looks good or not isn't important!"

The beer-bellied teacher smoothed out the xuan paper with his magic power, chuckled, and said: "You don't know this, do you? The most important thing about calligraphy is the identity of the writer. The top scorer in two subjects of the immortal sect exams, a future Nascent Soul Dinghai Zhenjun — the first piece of calligraphy written after the college entrance exam in his youth. Many collectors would be very interested."

"I'm lucky today, running into you first thing. I was thinking, I'd grab a good omen and leave behind a future heirloom for my old Gao family to brag about."

"Alright then."

Jiang Ding picked up the brush, channeled his innate true qi, and asked: "Teacher, what would you like me to write?"

"How about 'Wishing Gao Xiaoliu health and happiness, peace and good fortune, and future success in his career'? Gao Xiaoliu is my son, he's in his second year of middle school this year, quite the rascal."

"No problem."

Jiang Ding swept the brush, and characters came out one after another.

The beer-bellied teacher examined it carefully.

He found that the characters weren't actually ugly — they were passable, proper and orderly, each stroke similar to something printed out at a copy shop, completely lacking the wild grandeur and powerful resonance of a true calligrapher.

In terms of calligraphy, it had no value — what they called a craftsman's touch.

But though the characters were just those characters, and there was none of the knife-hewn axe-chiselled quality of Slender Gold script, one could still feel a distinct sharp, cutting aura between the strokes. Faintly, a blue blazing sun seemed to rise up, dissolving into the scene of the nine heavens.

Staring for too long, his eyes even felt a stinging pain as if being cut, tears welling up involuntarily. He hurriedly looked away.

"Alright, Teacher, is there anything you need changed?"

After several breaths, the final stroke was finished. Jiang Ding returned the brush and asked.

"Nothing, nothing, thank you so much, Jiang Ding!"

Amid the beer-bellied logistics department teacher's repeated thanks, Jiang Ding left the room.

(End of chapter)