Chapter 136: Calculated to the Last Detail

Pan Yun smiled faintly at him and said, "I think none of them are good—this money should go to the victim's family, and as for you, you're headed for prison."

The middle-aged man's face turned pale.

He yanked his hand away from Pan Yun's and stepped back rapidly.

Pan Yun looked at Zhang Zi and smiled.

Zhang Zi's gaze was deep; he waved his hand, and constables emerged from the other side, advancing toward the middle-aged man.

The man's pupils shrank; he spun and ran, but was kicked by a young Daoist standing beside the platform. He dodged, and the two exchanged five or six blows in an instant—each strike lethal.

The young Daoist's final grappling technique seized the man's arm and slammed him to the ground.

The man strained but could not break free.

Two more constables rushed forward, shackled him, and dragged him down.

The man resisted, jerking his neck upward and shouting, "You have no evidence! Why are you arresting me arbitrarily?"

Pan Yun asked curiously, "Long Hushan is full of Daoists. Even if not everyone is skilled in physiognomy or divination, there are surely plenty of masters here—how did you dare come here?"

The man glared at her in fury, then twisted his head to glare at the five Daoists on the stage, shouting, "You lied! You lied! You said you only read fortunes for marriage and children—you lied—"

A disciple watching from below shook his head and said, "First one this year."

"I wonder how many criminals the senior brothers brought in this year. I love watching this part most—every time I see them dragged off by constables screaming, I'm delighted."

You're a pervert. I'm different—I love seeing the look of utter disbelief on their faces.

After the middle-aged man was dragged away, Zhang Zi said to her, "Your performance this round earned full marks. You've now scored full marks in all five rounds—you're currently in first place."

A disciple summoned a brush that flew into the air and wrote on a massive white curtain hanging above: Pan Yun, 100 points.

She was ranked first.

Pan Yun's gaze sharpened as she looked at Zhang Zi.

Zhang Zi smiled and nodded at her, praising, "You did well. Go rest now."

As Pan Yun bowed to withdraw, Xue Taixu called out to her.

"Every year, Long Hushan Academy invites many criminals to take the magical arts exam. Half are forced to come; half are lured. We ignore the forced ones—but those lured by temptation: think about why, despite having committed grave crimes, they still dare appear at Long Hushan Academy?"

Pan Yun tilted her head. "Because he doesn't believe Long Hushan can divine the crimes he committed?"

"If he thinks Long Hushan can't divine his crimes, then why did he come, lured by the promise that Long Hushan could divine what he sought to know?"

Pan Yun frowned.

Xue Taixu stroked his beard. "Because he's too arrogant. When Heaven wishes to destroy someone, it first makes them mad. Child, you're still young—take them as a warning. Read the Dao De Jing thoroughly; it holds infinite mysteries."

Pan Yun pondered deeply, then bowed respectfully to Xue Taixu. "Yes, Master Xue."

Xue Taixu waved his hand, signaling her to leave.

Lou Tong glanced at him. "Master Xue likes her so much? You're giving her such direct guidance."

Xue Taixu nodded without concealment. "I like this child very much. She reminds me of a younger relative at home—equally clever and sharp."

"Is it Xue Hua?"

Xue Taixu shook his head. "Xue Hua is nowhere near as gifted as this child."

"Then why not bring him into the Academy?"

Xue Taixu shook his head. "His ambitions lie elsewhere. His family won't let him become a Daoist. So we let it be—no forcing the child."

He glanced at Pan Yun's retreating back and smiled. "This child, though—she's excellent. Feiyin's judgment remains as sharp as ever."

Zhang Zi smiled but said nothing. "Let's wait for the next candidate to appear."

As soon as Pan Yun stepped down, she ran to the adjacent blue tent marked for talisman arrays.

They couldn't see inside, but the tent had no roof—occasional flashes of spiritual light and crackling sounds revealed they were testing talismans.

Pan Yun tiptoed to watch for a moment, then jumped at the loud explosion from the green tent next door.

The blast was immense—it blew apart the tent's protective array, leaving a gaping hole.

Pan Yun and the crowd turned to see the hole, where candidates were crushed together. Her sharp eyes spotted a small, chubby figure clutching a medicinal furnace, desperately trying to squeeze into the crowd but repeatedly shoved back out.

Pan Yun grew furious, formed a hand seal, and charged forward. "Senior brother, senior sister—I'll help you put out the fire!"

The senior brothers and sisters waving mops to extinguish the flames were horrified. "Don't—"

But it was too late. A sudden downpour of rain fell. The moment the water touched the fire, it surged violently upward—the flames, nearly extinguished, reignited and spread.

Pan Yun stared in shock. "You were alchemizing? How did you have sodium or potassium? Don't you know eating those kills you?"

One senior sister shouted angrily, "He was brewing poison!"

Oh. Then it's fine.

One senior brother ran out, summoned a spell, and pulled a large clump of soil over, slamming it onto the fiercest blaze—half the fire was instantly smothered.

Seeing this work, other senior brothers and sisters used lightness techniques to sprint to the open, unpaved areas beyond the square. One spell or talisman later, they lifted soil and rushed back.

Pan Yun followed quickly, gathering even more soil. Inside the tent, she lifted the earth into the air and slammed it down—the flames were buried and slowly died.

They scattered so much soil to fully extinguish the fire that everyone who helped was covered in dust.

Pan Yun was too—even the cat on her shoulder turned yellow-black. When she brushed off the dirt, the cat stood up, shook itself, and flung more dust all over her again.

Pan Yun: …

Miao He, clutching the medicinal furnace, saw her little uncle and sighed in relief—no more pushing into the crowd.

The Daoist overseeing the Qi and Alchemy exam stepped out and shouted, "Quiet! All non-candidates, clear out—we resume the exam."

Furnace explosions were normal for alchemists.

As soon as the fire was out, everyone was herded back to their original spots to continue the exam.

Pan Yun followed the firefighters away—but didn't fully leave. She leaned against the half-collapsed tent, arms crossed, watching.

The Daoist noticed her standing beyond the red line but pretended not to see.

The alchemy exam had reached its final stage: pill refining.

Miao He had already selected her herbs and only needed to refine them. Her pace was slower than others, but the explosion ruined many candidates' partially refined pills—they now had to restart by selecting new herbs.

!

But she? She could immediately set up her furnace and begin refining—her speed caught up quickly.

Pan Yun watched her fully absorbed in refining and smiled faintly. She pinched the neck of the black cat on her shoulder and growled, "You're quite good at shaking off dirt, huh~~"

Pan Xiao He meowed.

People began emerging from the red tent, stepping onto the testing platform.

From her position, Pan Yun had a better view than those standing below—she crossed her arms and watched.

She found it dull: of the several who came out, only two barely survived three strikes from Xue Hua. The rest didn't even get to stance—they were pinned at the throat by the sword tip the moment they moved.

Pan Yun was about to look away when she remembered what Xue Taixu had just said.

Am I arrogant?

She thought she was only trying to appear intimidating—to make those in the Academy who wanted to bully her juniors think twice.

It wouldn't eliminate all malice, but it would block most of it.

After all, people everywhere, in any world, tend to bully the weak and fear the strong.

But when had she become so self-important that she no longer bothered to watch the matches?

Her former teacher had told her many times: don't dismiss younger students just because they're young and inexperienced. If they made it into the national academy, they have merit.

Don't think their ideas childish—what seems naive or absurd might be the correct one.

Look for their strengths. Their merits.

Pan Yun shifted her gaze back and watched intently.

Every candidate who entered the arena fell quickly—but before falling, each gave their all, facing Xue Hua at their peak.

And Xue Hua? He used a different sword technique against each one. Watching, watching—Pan Yun realized he was deliberately learning the sword forms the new students used.

He remembered them after seeing them only once.

Though his execution differed slightly, the forms were identical—and he kept adjusting them.

Pan Yun lowered her arms, stood straight, and stared with sharp focus.

Even if they were new students, even if they fell the moment they stepped on the platform, their sword techniques still held much to learn.

And each person's sword form was different—flawed, yes, but surely with strengths too.

The more she watched, the clearer it became: they lost not because of flawed sword forms, but because their personal ability couldn't unleash the form's full power.

If someone else were to use them…

Pan Yun's gaze dropped to the senior students gathered below the platform.

She saw many forming hand seals, mimicking the new students' moves, murmuring under their breath. Indeed—they weren't watching to mock or out of boredom. They were learning too.

Pan Yun's gaze returned to the stage. Her two fingers lifted unconsciously, mimicking the moves on the platform.

Lou Tong withdrew her gaze and smiled faintly at Xue Taixu.

Xue Taixu stroked his beard, a faint smile curling his lips—but he said nothing.

Zhang Zi withdrew his gaze, lowered his eyes to sip tea, and tapped his fingers lightly on the table in silence.

People began emerging from the blue talisman array tent. All their tests were held inside—emerging meant they had finished.

Pan Yun turned to look and saw Miao Zhen emerge as the ninth.

She smiled and waved to her.

Miao Zhen hurried over, glanced at Miao He refining inside the tent, and whispered, "Little Uncle, I'm done. I scored eighty-nine."

Pan Yun praised her. "Sixty is passing. Eighty-nine? Excellent."

Miao Zhen was pleased. "When did you finish, Little Uncle? What did you score?"

Pan Yun pointed to the massive curtain. "Look."

Miao Zhen looked up; there were already many names above, but Pan Yun's name remained firmly at the top.

(End of Chapter)