Chapter 13: Attack His Weakest Point!

'Shenqi Soup?'

In the cafeteria, the woman serving food made Fang Can pause: 'What's Shenqi Soup?'

'This is it.' The woman smiled and pushed a wooden bowl toward Fang Can.

Fang Can examined it closely: the bowl was overflowing with a pure white liquid like milk, and when he touched the outer wall, it was still cold.

'Sister, what is this Shenqi Soup made of? Why is it still cold?'

Fang Can looked up with a polite smile, but his expression froze when he saw what the woman held.

'Mushrooms,' the woman said kindly, gripping a vividly red, glistening mushroom.

'Yang Jiaotou just told us to squeeze this mushroom raw into cold water. He says if you disciples from the Training Hall drink this Shenqi Soup along with the Role-Playing Method, your cultivation speed will more than double.'

She beamed at Fang Can’s face with a motherly smile: 'Auntie likes you, new recruit. For your first month, meals are free. Drink more Shenqi Soup—you’ll definitely stay in the Training Hall by month’s end.'

'I... thank you, Auntie.' Fang Can forced a smile, his gaze falling on the several baskets of red mushrooms behind her.

'I’ll pass. Leave the Shenqi Soup for the other brothers. Just give me the same meal as yesterday.'

'Oh, alright.' The woman sighed lightly, unwilling to press further.

She shot Fang Can a look of disappointed frustration, then turned and served him another bowl of rice with stir-fried pork and flat beans, plus more rice.

'Thank you, Auntie.' Fang Can thanked her and hurried off with his bowl, still trembling with relief—he was glad he’d asked.

'No wonder this is an ancient gang—they’ve literally added mushroom-eating to the cafeteria menu. Absolutely terrifying.'

Fang Can carried his meal to a corner, shoveling food into his mouth while watching the serving window.

Sure enough, not long after, another disciple came to get food; after chatting with the woman, he left beaming, holding Shenqi Soup. Then came the second, the third, the fourth.

Watching disciple after disciple walk away with Shenqi Soup, Fang Can could only silently admit: no wonder this was an ancient gang—they played rough.

If these people had modern technology, they’d probably inject it straight into veins just to train harder.

With a lingering sense of being trapped in a den of criminals, Fang Can unconsciously sped up his eating, planning to finish lunch and return to training.

But as he ate, trouble arrived.

Fang Can mechanically shoveled rice into his mouth; three fellow disciples had already sat beside him.

One of them was the same disciple Fang Can had seen before—the one with the bizarre appearance who used the Role-Playing Method to fake a marriage proposal.

'You look new. Did you just join yesterday?' The odd boy tried to start a conversation, but Fang Can ignored him completely.

He knew their goal: the monthly silver allowance.

That morning, when he’d agreed to let the refined senior slap him, he’d learned some basics about life after joining.

For example: new recruits get free meals for the first month; after that, only three basic meals per day are free—anything extra must be paid for.

The monthly allowance barely covers food and lodging, so naturally, some started scheming.

After all, this was a gang—what’s wrong with borrowing a little money from within?

Of course, the senior had also mentioned: new recruits have a one-month protection period—no attacks allowed. After that, sparring is permitted.

Knowing these men dared not strike him, Fang Can ignored them entirely, continuing to shovel food into his mouth.

Across the cafeteria, some disciples watched with mocking eyes, whispering: 'Li Qunfan and his crew are at it again—wonder if this new guy can hold up.'

'I doubt it. Even if we can’t hit him this month, what happens after?'

'Bet fifty copper coins—he won’t last.'

Ignoring the betting game already underway, Li Qunfan exploded: 'Kid, is this how you treat your senior?'

Fang Can: ...

'Kid, don’t think hiding your head will save you. Watch out—I’ll challenge you after the month’s up.'

Fang Can: ...

'Are you mute? Or born without a tongue? With your talent, you probably can’t even generate Qi Sensation. When you become a servant, remember to bring me foot-washing water.'

In the cafeteria, Fang Can ate calmly. Bound by sect rules, Li Qunfan and the others dared not attack—only hurl insults.

The watching disciples knew: verbal abuse could be worse than physical violence.

If you planted seeds of self-doubt in someone’s heart, their cultivation could stall—turning even a gifted disciple into one who couldn’t generate Qi Sensation within a month.

The three surrounded Fang Can, hurling insults for two full minutes. As his food dwindled, he never once responded.

He swallowed his last bite, then slowly lifted his head and spoke his first words to Li Qunfan: 'You know something?'

The three, ready to give up, froze. Li Qunfan smiled, thinking the boy had finally cracked.

Looking at Li Qunfan, Fang Can recalled his performance in the Training Hall, and said coldly: 'She never loved you.'

'What did you say!!!'

The psychological blow from Fang Can’s single whisper surpassed all of Li Qunfan’s previous emotional ruptures combined.

Li Qunfan’s eyes bulged—he wanted to punch this insolent boy to death right there.

Instantly, he shook his head, lying to himself: 'Impossible. Xiao Fang absolutely loves me. You’re lying. Yes, you’re lying. If I become Hall Master—or even an overseer—he’ll be mine.'

Fang Can didn’t answer. He puckered his lips and drawled: 'Eh~ Now you’re spilling your heart out—who’s the one getting flustered?'

'You little brat!' In an instant, the Role-Playing Method shattered. Li Qunfan clenched his fists and lunged—but his two disciples held him back.

'Don’t move, Brother Li! Don’t break sect rules!' Both disciples gripped his arms, trying to restrain him.

The next moment, a pale fist slammed into Li Qunfan’s face, followed by a taunt.

'Clown. The rules say you can’t hit me—they never said I couldn’t hit you.'

(End of Chapter)