Chapter 147: The Dao Academy Suddenly Expands Recruitment

“Has the Dao Academy gone mad? Lowering its standards to recruit new disciples?” Su Qingniao asked in astonishment.

“Who knows?” Su Cheng also spoke, puzzled.

“Perhaps there’s some reason we don’t yet understand,” Su Jin carefully said.

“Mm-hmm, I thought the same. I reviewed the Dao Academy’s recruitment records over the past two hundred years and noticed something interesting: whenever the sect urgently needs manpower, both the Dao Academy and various clans lower their thresholds to admit a number of low-level cultivators.”

“These cultivators are eventually sent by the sect to wherever manpower is desperately needed,” Su Wuji said.

“You’re a freak—you actually looked into this?” Su Cheng couldn’t help but complain. Su Qingniao nodded in agreement.

She felt that besides herself and Su Cheng, the other two were freaks.

“I just casually browsed the family’s library books,” Su Wuji said awkwardly.

“Cool!” Su Jin immediately gave him a thumbs-up. “By the way, when you say ‘the sect urgently needs manpower,’ what exactly does that mean?”

“Like when a newly acquired territory needs to be cleared and developed, or when our own land is seized by enemies, or when both sides are locked in brutal combat on a frontline and their frontline troops are all gone—so they need reinforcements,” Su Wuji said.

Su Jin and the other two all drew in sharp breaths.

“Clearing new land means eliminating enemy remnants first. That’s dangerous work—you might get ambushed and killed at any moment.”

“Retaking land from enemies is even harder. The sect will issue death orders to push you forward, causing casualties to skyrocket.”

“And frontline cannon fodder? Even worse. You go up, you die. Almost no one survives,” Su Qingniao said grimly.

“I heard from my grandmother that the last time Su clan members were sent to the battlefield as cannon fodder was over a hundred years ago.”

“The sect issued a death order: every clan had to supply four hundred cannon fodder.”

“The clan simply made all eligible members draw life-or-death lots.”

“In the end, six out of ten who drew the death lot were replaced by their own elders and closest kin.”

“Of those four hundred, only twelve returned.” Su Cheng said.

The other three felt their spines turn icy.

“The sect would actually issue such an order, making us cannon fodder?” Su Jin exclaimed.

“The frontlines change constantly. When the sect decides it must cut off an arm to survive, we are that arm—sacrificing this small piece is better than losing the entire sect.”

“So cannon fodder must exist when needed,” Su Wuji said, frowning in thought.

“Then why has the Dao Academy suddenly lowered its admission standards?” Su Jin also frowned.

“There’s still too little information. We’ll see if our clan school also starts lowering its standards to admit new students,” Su Wuji said. “The clan school has already been open for four months. It’s not easy to admit a new batch now.”

Everyone fell silent.

Soon after, Liu Shi emerged.

A faint smile curled on her lips; after confirming the full class roster, she led everyone aboard the large flying vehicle and departed.

In fact, all the clan school’s large flying vehicles had begun slowly moving, all heading toward Chengmenkou, hugging the ground.

Liu Shi stood at the front of the vehicle cabin and signaled all the students to be quiet.

When everyone fell silent, she said: “Some of you have already heard; others haven’t.

I’ll tell you directly, so you don’t waste time speculating.”

“The four Dao Academies under Xiancheng have received orders from the sect to expand recruitment. This year, they’ll lower their thresholds to admit a new batch of student disciples. Some parents in our class got wind of this and plan to transfer their children over.”

“It’s not just our class—other classes also have students transferring.”

“They’ve all come today to withdraw their enrollment.”

“The clan will likely admit a new batch too, but I don’t know how they’ll do it.”

“The new students admitted may have slightly inferior cultivation potential than you.”

“But those selected by the clan’s second screening each have their own unique advantages.”

“You’ll still be together for several years—by then, they may not be worse than you.”

All the students stared at Liu Shi, their young faces filled with shock.

Liu Shi laughed heartily.

“By the way, our new mission outside the city is to assist other clan cultivators in garrisoning Mount Woniu. The mission lasts five days. Since it’s a supporting garrison, you’ll all be doing menial tasks.”

“As long as you don’t get punished for your own mistakes, you’ll earn at least one Merit Point after five days.”

“If you perform well, you can earn three Merit Points.”

The students exchanged glances.

This Merit Point seemed hard to earn.

What counted as “performing well”? Were there specific standards?

In Su Jin’s view, Mount Woniu was a very large mountain.

At least four hundred meters high.

The mountain was covered in lush green forests.

But many trees had been cut down and replaced with wooden huts, housing numerous injured or rescued civilians and cultivators from the outer city zone.

Civilians and cultivators lived here mixed together, in chaotic disorder.

As soon as Su Jin stepped off the vehicle, a boy about her age threw a stone at her head.

Su Xiaohe didn’t hold back—she swung her gourd vine like a whip and lashed the boy’s buttocks until they swelled.

The boy burst into loud sobs.

A fat, coarse woman heard and stormed over, furious.

Without even looking around, she rushed to the boy’s side and began screaming: “Who hit my son? Come out! Come out! I’ll kill you!”

Liu Shi’s gaze instantly locked onto the woman.

Her cold stare felt like two blades, forcing the woman to slowly raise her head—then freeze, mouth shut, rooted to the spot.

“I hit your son. You want to kill me?” The crushing aura of a Foundation Establishment cultivator slammed into the woman.

The woman screamed, her legs buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, trembling as she clutched her child.

The woman’s wailing and the boy’s cries drew the attention of many nearby hut-dwellers, who peered over.

“My lord, she’s just a crude woman—please don’t take her seriously,” a woman around thirty rushed over, pleading with Liu Shi. “You’re Liu Pingping, the clan school’s instructor, right? Please bring your students with me—your huts have already been prepared.”

Liu Shi snorted, withdrew her aura, and led her class away.

Before leaving, Su Jin didn’t look at the mother and son on the ground—she glanced instead at a certain wooden hut.

Su Wuji noticed and sent her a soul-echo thought.

Because they were close and no one else was paying attention,

Su Jin replied with a soul-echo: “That hut radiates intense hostility—targeted at us and Liu Shi.”

Su Wuji immediately replied: “Report him.”