Chapter Three: Special Training on Clearwind Mountain (Part One)

“Liu Su, 75, 80, 72. A total improvement of twenty points across the three categories—well done! Next, Wang Wen!” Lu Huan stood by, recording his students’ test results.

Liu Su bowed to Lu Huan, his excitement barely contained as he stepped aside. In just three months, his combined score had increased by twenty points!

“Still bowing... My ‘big girl’ has watched too many TV dramas! Obviously, you haven’t trained enough!” Lu Huan scolded with a laugh. “Wang Wen? Hurry up…”

Unbeknownst to him, three months had already passed since Lu Huan took up his post at Guli Middle School. During this time, he lived, ate, and slept alongside these children, watching over their studies, urging them to train, and personally bearing witness to every change, every step of their growth.

Lu Huan remembered how Liu Su, the first time he tried circulating the cultivation formula, was so reckless he nearly damaged his own foundation. Yet, he persisted, steadily and methodically, until he completed each cycle flawlessly—a process that took seven days. That day, overwhelmed with joy, Liu Su embraced Lu Huan and sobbed like a young woman; from then on, his classmates dubbed him ‘Miss Liu.’ Lu Huan himself began calling him ‘my big girl.’

Gan Lie’s father had died in battle as a Demon Guard. On the first day of school, Lu Huan had already seen, from his bearing and actions, the boy’s ambition to become a soldier. Yet Gan Lie’s body, thick with knotted muscle, betrayed the fact that his training was unscientific—mindless strength-building rather than effective conditioning.

Now, after three months of Lu Huan’s guidance and nightly giant’s herbal baths, Gan Lie’s bulky muscles had faded, his physique was still as robust as a bear’s, and his height had shot up to 170 centimeters. His numbers: 79, 90, 70—a total improvement of thirty points in just three months.

Deng Wenle and Yin Xin had also made significant gains, their values reaching 85, 80, 79, and 90, 76, 80, respectively—almost thirty points up. Yin Xin’s spiritual strength surprised Lu Huan; at only ten years old, she’d already surpassed ninety, revealing incredible potential.

The other students had all made progress as well, most improving by about twenty points. Even the least advanced, Wang Wen, had increased by seventeen.

As the testing ended, Lu Huan looked at his students, their faces glowing with excitement. They all understood what these scores meant. This progress was the best reward for three months of relentless effort, running, studying, cultivating from dawn to dusk, never relaxing, never complaining, never crying, never quitting—only gritting their teeth and persevering.

Lu Huan himself was astonished by the resilience and determination of these kids. Watching their transformation, he couldn’t help but beam with joy, even laughing aloud…

“Hahaha! Good! Well done, boys! Such progress in three months—I didn’t expect it! You’ve got guts! Truly worthy of being my students!”

At his words, the boys puffed out their chests with pride, while the girls blushed, standing even straighter.

“All right, dismissed! Go home, rest well! In three days, gather at the school gate at eight o’clock sharp.” Lu Huan waved his hand, signaling the end.

“Yes, sir!” came the chorus of forty-five voices, echoing across half the campus. “Thank you, Teacher Lu!”

There was a world of difference between ‘Teacher Lu’ and ‘Master Lu.’ The former was self-explanatory—a teacher imparts knowledge and resolves doubts, and you address them as such. The latter, however, was reserved for those of great virtue or who had made exceptional contributions, such as the scientist Cai Xian, who improved the stellar core reactor, making mass production of stellar weapons possible—he was respectfully called ‘Master Cai.’ Alternatively, you could call someone ‘Master’ if you revered them as a father. The forty-five students’ use of ‘Master Lu’ signified that they regarded Lu Huan with the respect due a parent.

“You little rascals—Master Lu, my foot! I’m only sixteen! Why are you calling me that? Do I look that old to you?” Lu Huan shouted, half-angry, half-amused.

The students scattered in a burst of laughter, ignoring his protests. Lu Huan could only call them ingrates, but after they’d gone, he found himself grinning foolishly.

Finally, with these kids gone, he’d have time to see his little Yu Yu. First, a change of clothes. Now, what flowers should he bring her?

Ah! The white roses in the principal’s back garden should be in bloom…

— — —

Stellar Calendar, 2020. May 14th, 8:00 a.m. Clear skies.

At the gate of Guli Middle School, forty-five students stood in five straight rows, silent and motionless. Their discipline drew furtive glances from passersby, who whispered among themselves—were these really students from Guli Middle School?

Lu Huan emerged, wearing a sun visor, a flowery T-shirt, and baggy shorts, a folding fan in hand, riding an antique tricycle from before the Stellar Era.

People at the gate were stunned. What was this—retro cosplay? And where on earth had he found a tricycle?

After the Cataclysm, almost all pre-Stellar Era objects had turned to dust; any that survived had lost their original function, and were preserved only in museums. Tricycles were no exception. Scientists had discovered that the metals in these objects had been stripped of their strength by Stellar Energy surges—the carbon structures destroyed. Anything unearthed was now as brittle as ash.

Lu Huan pedaled up to his students, planted one foot on the ground, and, with practiced ease, removed his sun visor, shading his eyes to glance at the sun, then fanning himself.

“Honestly, it’s really warm today. Just pedaling from the dorm to the gate, and I’m drenched in sweat,” he muttered, then turned to the students. “Aren’t you hot?”

“Not at all!” the forty-five answered in unison.

“Good, not hot—that’s what I like to hear!” Lu Huan grinned, pulled his cap back on, hopped off the tricycle, and began unloading items from the cargo box. “Come, each of you take a pair and strap them to your legs.”

The students took the objects and passed them along—two per person. Looking closer, they saw they were sandbags, weighing about ten pounds each. Without question, they strapped them to their calves and bounced experimentally—barely noticeable for those with physical scores above seventy.

Lu Huan watched their indifference, stroking his chin with a sly smile. As if his gravity sandbags were only ten pounds!

He tapped his watch, adjusting the gravity setting—straight to one hundred pounds.

Bang!

A student, in mid-bounce, was suddenly dragged down by the weight, stumbling and sprawling to the ground.

Bang!

Another went down.

But these were students personally trained by Lu Huan for three months. Even with the sandbags at a hundred pounds, they adapted after a few tentative movements.

Lu Huan nodded, satisfied. One hundred pounds was just right—enough to limit their strength without impeding normal movement.

He pressed his hand down, signaling for silence. “Next, you will begin a one-month survival training!”

“I’ve already submitted an application to the city lord and received permission for special training on Qingfeng Mountain.”

“You all know the situation on Qingfeng Mountain. Twenty-one years ago, a dimensional collapse occurred there, and the fifth demonic beast squad broke through the barrier. It was heroes like Zhang who repelled the invasion. Afterwards, the authorities dispatched a whole regiment to sweep the mountain, exterminating all the demonic and stellar beasts, and eliminating most of the mutated animals tainted by demonic energy.”

Lu Huan sat back on his tricycle, elbow propped on the handlebars, chin in hand, and continued, “Now, most of the wild beasts on Qingfeng Mountain have grown up over the past twenty years, and the demonic energy is extremely thin—the creatures aren’t particularly fierce.”

“Your task for this month is to survive on Qingfeng Mountain with the sandbags I’ve provided, and to kill ten wild beasts each. During the mission, your watches’ recording functions will be active 24/7,” he said, tapping his own watch. “I’ll be monitoring your status at all times.”

“If you encounter any special circumstances, call me immediately for help! This is not school training—there are no medicinal baths to restore you. A single accident could cost you your life!” Lu Huan warned sternly, locking eyes with each of them. “There is a real risk of death in this exercise. If any of you don’t want to participate, or are afraid to, raise your hand now.”

Not one of the forty-five students moved. No one showed fear; instead, they looked eager, impatient to march into Qingfeng Mountain and prove themselves.

Lu Huan was very pleased with their readiness. With a flourish, he produced forty-five death waivers as if by magic.

“If you’re confident, sign here, then we’ll set off.” He joked lightly, “You may only be ten years old, but the Star Code grants full legal rights to all citizens at your age. That means you are responsible for your actions. Once you sign this waiver, if you die on Qingfeng Mountain, no one will be held accountable.”

“I’ll give you ten minutes to think it over!” He sprawled across the tricycle, closing his eyes to rest.

The forty-five students fell silent, carefully weighing the risks and benefits… Ten minutes passed quickly.

“Well? Have you decided?”

“Reporting, Master Lu! I am willing to sign the waiver and join the training!” Gan Lie was the first to step forward, eyes bright, full of spirit.

“Reporting, Master Lu…” Yin Xin followed.

Then Liu Su, Wang Wen, and the rest in quick succession.

In the end, all forty-five chose to join the special training, undaunted by risk, ready to face challenge and death.

The moment they stepped forward, something seemed to break free within their spirits, filling them with youthful vigor.

Lu Huan gazed at them with great satisfaction.

Willpower is the true foundation.

With such resolve, these young men and women need fear neither breaking through nor reaching the stars in the future.

Lu Huan pedaled the tricycle, raising his right fist high.

“Move out—”