I Ruined the Long Ao Tian Script-Chapter 75

Pine Forests and Sea of Clouds

One month later, at Xuan Cang Academy.

The disciples of Bright Moon Peak had spent a carefree month indulging in leisure before finally resolving to set off for Mount Taihua.

Dustless Island sent another instructor—Immortal Master Fufeng, the master of Bi Qu Peak—to teach students the techniques of refining spiritual plants at Xuan Cang Academy.

With her arrival, Xu Shulou did not take up a teaching position. Instead, she enrolled as a student alongside her junior disciples, feeling she was still too inexperienced to instruct others.

Though she had enrolled, Xu Shulou had no intention of sharing hardships with her juniors for long. She was ready to slip away at any moment, though her juniors remained blissfully unaware of her cunning thoughts, gazing at her with admiration.

Here, each student was assigned a number, serving as their temporary identifier for the next few years.

This practice was meant to ensure fairness. Upon enrollment, past glories were to be set aside—within Xuan Cang Academy, they were simply students. Whether they had been wandering cultivators or disciples of prestigious sects, all were treated equally. Students were also forbidden from inquiring about each other’s backgrounds.

How well this would work in practice remained to be seen, but the intention was noble, and no sects had reason to oppose it.

Xu Shulou received the number "121," while Bai Roushuang, the last of Bright Moon Peak’s seven disciples in line, was assigned "127."

The number tags were no longer distributed by the young attendants they had met during their initial visit but by wooden puppets instead.

Someone in the crowd sighed, "Puppets are incredibly expensive. The Qingcheng Sect truly spares no expense."

Bai Roushuang had never seen such puppets before and couldn’t help staring at the intricately carved wooden figures moving fluidly. At Xuan Cang Academy, aside from the instructors in the classrooms, all other roles were filled by these puppets—wooden constructs powered by spirit stones, devoid of emotion and operating strictly by the rules.

It seemed Xuan Cang Academy was determined to uphold fairness to the extreme.

Xu Shulou and her group lined up to receive their uniforms—five sets each, all in plain colors. Those with lower cultivation levels, unable to withstand the cold, were given two additional sets of padded clothing.

Dressed in white robes, her hair tied up with a jade band and the wooden tag "121" hanging at her waist, Xu Shulou quickly blended into the sea of students.

Many in the cultivation world had heard of Xu Shulou, but few recognized her face. Here, most students knew her only as "121." She made a few friends, some even affectionately calling her "Little One" or "Ah-One."

Classes like swordsmanship and mind cultivation were held together, while practical lessons in spells and sword techniques were divided into smaller groups under different instructors.

It was unclear how the Qingcheng Sect had negotiated with these instructors, but on the surface, none seemed to hold back their teachings, generously sharing their techniques with the students.

The curriculum was flexible, offering a wide range of courses. Some, solely focused on ascension, avoided "unorthodox" subjects. But not all came from major sects with endless resources—many needed practical skills to survive in the cultivation world and thus chose diverse courses.

Xu Shulou, following her interests, selected "Floral Arts and Winemaking." The instructor was an eccentric old man with a white beard who often brought his homemade wines to class for tastings—a habit Xu Shulou greatly appreciated.

With few students in the class, each had ample interaction with the instructor. Over time, the old man came to regard Xu Shulou as a fellow connoisseur, frequently gifting her jars of newly brewed spirit wine. The two would perch on pine trees above the cliffs, sipping wine as they gazed at the sea of clouds below.

The spirit wine was meant to replenish spiritual energy, but the pair drank it purely for pleasure—and no one stopped them.

Xu Shulou’s winemaking skills improved rapidly. After tasting her experimental rose wine, the instructor declared she would pass the course with ease.

Mount Taihua’s scenery was breathtaking—towering pines, endless clouds, and jagged peaks. In her free time, Xu Shulou enjoyed floating amidst the clouds, lost in thought.

But leisure was scarce. The workload was heavy, and the Bright Moon Peak disciples were all engrossed in their studies. Though they shared swordsmanship classes, they otherwise pursued their own interests. Xu Shulou hadn’t even seen her beloved junior sister in three days, despite living under the same roof.

At Xuan Cang Academy, the small pavilion Xu Shulou had bought in the mortal world finally proved useful. Unwilling to share quarters with strangers, the Bright Moon Peak disciples temporarily settled there, awaiting their chance to earn single rooms through exams.

Some students questioned this arrangement, but the puppets merely shook their heads with impartial expressions. "No rules have been broken."

Inspired, others pitched tents in courtyards or built makeshift wooden huts. As long as no fires were started, the puppets turned a blind eye.

The academy gradually divided into two groups—those from privileged backgrounds who took the resources for granted, and those who, driven by the merit-based allocation system, studied fiercely, especially before exams. The night before assessments, the glow of spell practice lit up the darkness.

Xu Shulou, usually laid-back, found herself among the diligent. She adored the library, often borrowing books to read while drifting above the clouds.

Time flew, and soon the first exams arrived, testing only what had been taught in the past three months.

Bai Roushuang studied relentlessly. Passing her room, Xu Shulou noticed her hair hastily tied up with a brush as she practiced water manipulation spells. Coming from the mortal world, Bai Roushuang was particularly drawn to practical, everyday magic.

Smiling, Xu Shulou left without disturbing her.

The structured learning had its benefits—Xu Shulou picked up many new spells beyond swordsmanship.

During a class assessment on spiritual energy control, she demonstrated a newly learned technique: "Flying Flowers and Fluttering Leaves." A lifelike apricot blossom materialized in her palm before its petals shot forth, embedding themselves into the classroom wall.

"Well done!" The instructor nodded, marking her number on his records.

To Xu Shulou’s surprise, Xuan Cang Academy’s anonymity policy unexpectedly brought her some romantic attention.

Since real names were not used within the academy, Xu Shulou could only temporarily refer to the other party as "Thirty-Three." He was a somewhat handsome male cultivator who, likely captivated by Xu Shulou's remarkable performance in class, began pursuing her.

Though the academy forbade inquiries into each other's backgrounds, Xu Shulou could guess that this "Young Master Thirty-Three" probably came from a privileged family.

Because ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌‍his approach was, well, rather domineering. He seemed convinced that Xu Shulou was a poor but exceptionally hardworking young woman and attempted to win her over with money and spirit stones.

Xu Shulou didn’t quite understand what this fellow was up to. After dodging him a few times in confusion, Young Master Thirty-Three seemed to derive a peculiar joy from their "cat-and-mouse" dynamic and escalated his efforts.

One day, he cornered Xu Shulou on her way back from class, grinning as he said, "Run, little rabbit, run. Let’s see if you can escape this young master’s grasp."

"……" Xu Shulou had an epiphany.

Later, she recounted the incident to her junior disciples like this:

"At the time, he blocked my way and said something along the lines of 'Run, you little brat.'" Xu Shulou shook her head with a sigh. "I thought, isn’t that just a challenge? How could I possibly run? So I simply beat him up instead."

"……" The junior disciples detected no hint of romance in her retelling, assuming it was just another fool who had overestimated himself and picked a fight with their senior sister. They dispersed, muttering, "Why would you even provoke her?"

And so, the nameless Young Master Thirty-Three’s youthful infatuation remained forever unknown.