Chapter 17: The Collapse of Zhang Xu!

The news that Zhang Xu had failed to break through to the Dark Force realm spread like a thunderclap, instantly sweeping through both the inner and outer courtyards of the martial arts academy.

At first, it was only a suppressed stir and hushed whispers among the core disciples of the inner courtyard.

But soon, this astonishing news spread like wings, carried by wild speculation and unhidden gossip.

“Did you hear? Zhang Xu senior brother… failed his Dark Force breakthrough!”

“What?! That’s impossible! Zhang senior brother has top-tier roots, a wealthy family, and devours elixirs like candy—breaking through to Dark Force should’ve been effortless for him!”

“Absolutely true! I saw him carried out of the Headmaster’s study by two men, his face as white as paper, his breath shallow and unstable—he clearly failed the breakthrough and damaged his primordial energy!”

“Gah… even top-tier roots can fail? It seems what the Headmaster always says—‘Roots aren’t everything,’ ‘Mindset determines success or failure’—is no empty words.”

“Heh, I say failure is normal!”

“That Zhang Xu guy, flaunting his family status and roots, has his head so far up his ass he can’t see the ground—he spends his days partying at taverns with cronies or scheming to win favor, putting on airs—how much real time has he spent refining his blood and qi, truly understanding the transformation of power?”

“Exactly! All his strength must’ve gone elsewhere—flirting with beauties, drinking, chasing wealth and pleasure—what doesn’t drain your essence and spirit? The Dark Force gate is exquisitely subtle; if your heart is impure and your qi unclean, failure is deserved!”

Though the inner courtyard disciples spoke in low voices, their barely concealed gloating and sarcasm pierced doors and windows like fine needles, stabbing into every informed ear.

Zhang Xu had long been arrogant and boastful, making many enemies; now that he had fallen, most watched coldly, even secretly delighted.

Inside the study.

The atmosphere was so heavy it seemed to drip.

Liu Qingshi stood by the window, arms crossed, back turned to Zhang Xu, who slumped on the floor, his energy withered. His brows were tightly furrowed.

After a moment.

He slowly turned, gazing at the disciple before him—pale as paper, sweat beading on his forehead—and finally let out a deep, heavy sigh:

“Zhang Xu, you possess top-tier roots and a wealthy family; your cultivation resources have never been lacking. This is a fortune most could only dream of.”

Liu Qingshi’s voice was low, yet each word rang clear, carrying a quiet weight.

“But your mind is scattered, never fully focused on the martial path. Banquets, social entanglements—all silently drain your essence and spirit, eroding your martial will.”

“The Dark Force gate demands pure intent and unobstructed power. Your reserves were insufficient, your spirit restless—you forced it. Failure… was no accident.”

Zhang Xu sat cross-legged on the cold floor tiles, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, teeth gritted, the grinding sound audible.

He hung his head, tangled hair masking part of his face, but the dark fury and rage in his eyes churned like a volcano about to erupt.

He, the genius with top-tier roots, had failed his Dark Force breakthrough before everyone’s eyes!

It was as if his entire sense of superiority had been torn apart in public and stomped into the mud!

In truth, before the breakthrough, he had vaguely sensed his reserves might still be slightly lacking.

But precisely that day, Hu Tian and Shi Lei both entered the realm of fist technique mastery—the entire academy buzzed with a false sense of auspicious fortune.

Coupled with his inner arrogance and impatience, he took a gamble and forced the breakthrough…

The result? Reality delivered the coldest, cruelest slap imaginable.

Liu Qingshi watched his condition, his heart troubled.

He shook his head slightly, his tone softening with counsel:

“Fortunately, your foundation is intact—only your primordial energy is severely damaged. With your roots and family wealth, return home, rest well, replenish your blood and qi, quiet your mind, and accumulate again. In time… you may yet have another chance to break through.”

With that, he said no more, summoned two inner courtyard disciples who usually followed Zhang Xu and now looked anxious, and ordered them to carefully escort Zhang Xu home to recover.

When the two disciples—one on each side—nearly carried the stumbling, utterly depleted Zhang Xu out of the study.

Eyes from all directions instantly fixed upon him.

These gazes held unhidden curiosity, suppressed smirks, naked gloating, a few faint traces of pity—but mostly, a cold, almost clinical satisfaction at seeing a once-high figure suddenly crash.

“Senior Brother Zhang Xu, are you alright?”

Hu Tian had run over, his face showing obvious concern.

He had just entered the inner courtyard and hadn’t yet grasped its hidden currents; he asked out of loyalty to “follow the big brother” and genuine worry.

But what greeted him was Zhang Xu’s sudden, icy, brooding glare—laced with hidden blame and revulsion.

In Zhang Xu’s twisted mind, if not for Hu Tian and Shi Lei’s recent “good news” that day, stirring his restlessness and clouding his judgment, he would never have rushed the breakthrough and ended up like this.

These two—especially the annoying Shi Lei—had become part of his humiliation, and he secretly vowed to hate them.

Hu Tian froze, startled by the sudden coldness, standing helplessly, assuming Zhang Xu was just in terrible spirits, and didn’t think deeper.

“Aaaahhh, damn it!!!”

Feeling the stares of the disciples upon him, Zhang Xu felt overwhelming shame.

What crushed him most was the fleeting glimpse of Liu Yiyi out of the corner of his eye.

The woman he cared for most—her usually cold, snow-lily face—seemed to hold a hint… of contempt?

And beside her, Su Yan watched him with a sly smile, her beautiful eyes brimming with unhidden gloating.

This made Zhang Xu feel like he was going mad.

“Didn’t you eat?! Walk faster!”

He whirled on the two disciples supporting him, snarling through gritted teeth, his temples bulging with veins.

The two disciples flinched, no longer daring to hesitate, summoning every ounce of strength to half-drag, half-carry Zhang Xu as if fleeing a flood or beast, racing out of the inner courtyard toward the academy’s main gate.

Jiang Ye, seated on a small stool outside the gatehouse, had pieced together the general truth from the distant murmurs and fragments, but when he saw Zhang Xu’s ashen face, his spirit utterly drained, barely able to walk with help, he still gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“Top-tier roots, failed breakthrough… predictable.”

In Jiang Ye’s aged eyes flickered a hint of mockery.

He did not yet know that Zhang Xu’s next madness would unexpectedly shatter his seventy-year vow of celibacy.