Era of Mist

Heavy with thoughts, Shi Tiexin forgot all about breakfast. He asked for directions to Class 28 of the first years, his mind racing all the while. After mulling it over, he concluded that to quickly improve his cultivation, he had to address his own shortcomings.

’First, I need high-quality cultivation manuals. Those pamphlets from the Star Worker School were vague and unclear. It would be a miracle if anyone could get quick results from them. I heard the more reputable students at the Star Worker School didn’t use the school’s manuals anyway; they were all trying to get their hands on their own private copies.’

’I’m not lacking in that department, which is good.’

’Second, I need good instructors. The Star Worker School was practically a free-for-all; you could hardly find a single competent teacher. If you actually compared them, they probably wouldn’t even measure up to a student from an elite class here.’

’It makes sense when you think about it. Any teacher worth their salt would be a mind-art master. A master like that could find a position anywhere. Why would they come to a dump like the Star Worker School to teach a bunch of little brats?’

’I heard that good schools in the big cities have Scholars as teachers. Scholars are masters who have reached the second major stage of mind-art cultivation. With a master to pass on their knowledge and resolve their students’ questions, of course the cultivation speed would be fast.’

’I’m so envious!’

’I wonder what the teachers in the trash class are like. They probably aren’t great, or else why would it be called the "trash class"? I just hope they’re not too terrible. Amitabha, please bless me.’

’The last thing—the one that relies most on my own initiative and ability to speed up my cultivation—is auxiliary records.’

Auxiliary records were a strategic resource of critical importance in mind-art cultivation. Shi Tiexin hadn’t even known such things existed until that guy came over and gave him a whole spiel. It was only then that he asked someone to look into it. He hadn’t thought much of it, but what he found out nearly made him jump out of his skin.

According to legend, auxiliary records could speed up the cultivation of their corresponding mind-art. A good record could even increase the speed by an efficient 20%!

’Twenty percent doesn’t sound like much?’

No. In mind-art cultivation, every second counts. Even 1% is significant, let alone 20%—it’s a world of difference. Besides, accelerated cultivation is addictive. After a long, arduous journey, suddenly speeding up feels like breaking into a gallop on a horse. It’s an incredible high. If you were forced to slow down again, the frustration would be enough to make you sick.

Unlike manuals, auxiliary records weren’t for unlimited use; they had to be replaced once depleted. When allocating their mind-art resources, some people would rather skimp on their manuals just to afford a better auxiliary record, even if it meant bankrupting themselves.

The importance of auxiliary records was self-evident.

’If I want to rapidly improve my mind-art level, auxiliary records are the key.’

’Damn it. I have no idea where to get them. I don’t even know if auxiliary records exist in this world. And if they do, what would they cost? Can I even afford them with my current finances...?’

Lost in thought, Shi Tiexin headed deeper into the academic zone. Just like in the dorm area, the trash class wasn’t in a prime location. It was situated at the very back, in the deepest part of the school buildings. The buildings at the front were tall, grand, and exquisitely decorated. But the old building in the back... Shi Tiexin’s nose twitched. He caught a familiar, heady scent.

’This really is the fucking trash class! It even comes with the smell of trash!’

Walking down the hallway, Shi Tiexin scanned his surroundings. It was a far cry from the bustling, studious atmosphere of the elite classes. This place was a noisy mess, full of loud chatter. Boys and girls zipped back and forth in the corridor, laughing and shouting. He had no idea what they were so excited about, but they seemed ready to break into a mad dash at any moment.

There were plenty of strange characters, too. For example, a boy was walking toward him. He was quite tall, a good half a head taller than most other guys, and only a little shorter than Shi Tiexin himself. His clothes covered a fairly strong frame with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, giving the faint impression of an inverted triangle.

The guy wasn’t bad-looking, with a face full of youthful collagen, but he seemed to be in a deeply cringey phase. He had taken off his school uniform jacket and tied the sleeves around his waist, making the jacket look like a short skirt.

He held an ox-horn comb. Even while walking, he meticulously used his left hand to sweep his hair upward, his right hand following closely with the comb to set it in place, creating a hairstyle that resembled a patch of grass pointing to the sky.

Looking closer, Shi Tiexin saw a flash on his earlobe. An earring, barely visible amidst his hair, was glinting there. It was in the shape of a silver skull—the absolute pinnacle of cringey edginess. Oh, and the guy also had a pair of dead-fish eyes and a punchable, condescending expression.

He bulldozed his way down the hall, shoving aside anyone in his path. The other boys didn’t dare say a word, but the girls were frequently casting flirtatious glances his way, their high-pitched cries of "Brother Feng is so handsome!" echoing in the background.

’Oh? Is this guy a practitioner?’

Shi Tiexin subconsciously gave him a second glance, sizing up the boy’s chest, waist, back, finger joints, and footwork. ’Heh, what a scrub.’ With that, he lost interest and walked past, continuing his search for Class 28.

"Hm?"

The boy, however, suddenly stopped in his tracks. He turned to look at Shi Tiexin’s retreating back, his lazy, dead-fish eyes suddenly seeming to sharpen.

"An illusion?" He stared at Shi Tiexin’s back from a half-turned angle, tilting his chin up thirty degrees to make himself look more defiant. Then, he muttered at a volume he clearly thought was cool—just quiet enough that people couldn’t quite make it out but could still hear him murmuring, "No, my senses are never wrong. That was definitely the aura of a battle-hardened expert... A guy I’ve never seen before. Hmph. Is he trying to claim a spot among the new Four Celestial Kings? A formidable rival."

"But, so what?" He raised his hands and swept them through his hair, making each strand flutter. "No one can shake me. I am the invincible Liu Chuanfeng—"

"Liu Shufeng!" another boy yelled, running over in a panic. "Someone saw Big Square Head coming!"

SWISH SWISH. He slapped his spiky hair down with both hands. In the blink of an eye, he untied the "skirt" from his waist and properly put on the jacket. The skull earring vanished into his pocket in a flash. WHOOSH. He zipped up the pocket, then pulled a pair of thick-lensed glasses from another pocket and placed them on his nose. His entire image changed instantly; in a flash, he had transformed into an honest, unassuming model student.

After he was done, he suddenly seemed to remember something. He smacked the other boy on the back of the head. "How many times have I told you? Don’t fucking call me Liu Shufeng! It’s so lame!"

Meanwhile, Shi Tiexin had finally found the classroom for Class 28 of the first years.

The disparity was everywhere. Even the classroom door was an old, busted wooden one. ’This Fengming First Middle School is really something else!’ he thought. Stepping into the classroom, he saw that not many students had arrived yet. Most of those present were chatting among themselves, showing no intention of studying.

Several people looked up at Shi Tiexin standing in the doorway, wondering who this imposing figure was. Shi Tiexin scanned the room, then raised his voice slightly and asked, "Who’s the class president of Class 28?"