As the saying goes, when you walk along the riverbanks, your shoes are bound to get wet...
Zeng Anmin sighed inwardly as he noticed the strange looks the other students in the classroom were giving him.
At this moment, he was standing by the door, holding a copy of the *Imperial College* text. Because Qi Dachun was merely his Scholar's Attendant, the Tutor had paid the servant no mind and simply sent him back. Zeng Anmin was in no mood to flip through the book in his hands. His mind wandered as he thought about other things.
Time slowly passed, and he gradually grew accustomed to the stares.
DING.
The bell for the noon dismissal rang. The Tutor dismissed the students for lunch.
Then, he walked over to Zeng Anmin with a blank expression. Giving a cold harrumph, he pointed a finger at the ground next to the young man.
POP.
A stream of milky-white aura formed a visible small circle, trapping Zeng Anmin within it.
"With this circle in place, I will sense it immediately if you leave," the Tutor said flatly. "You are not allowed to eat lunch!"
Having delivered his punishment, he turned and walked out.
GRUMBLE.
Zeng Anmin had just stepped into the Martial Arts Dan Yang Realm yesterday. His body was in dire need of nourishment, and the writhing emptiness in his stomach was excruciating.
"Old bastard..." he cursed inwardly.
He was far too hungry. Every cell in his body was protesting in defiance. If he didn't eat soon, he feared he might faint on the spot. This was no exaggeration. A graded Martial Artist consumed two to three times as much food as an ordinary person.
"I can't just stand here," he thought. "I have to eat."
Taking a deep breath, Zeng Anmin knew he had to figure out a way to get someone to bring him a meal. Even a few steamed buns would do, just to quell the unbearable churning in his gut.
"Quan Fu."
Zhang Lun walked up to Zeng Anmin, a gentle smile on his face.
"Tongyu!" A smile spread across Zeng Anmin's face at the sight of his friend.
Though they hadn't known each other for long, Zeng Anmin already considered him a friend. Zhang Lun's explanations the previous day had benefited him immensely.
Zhang Lun first glanced around. Then, seizing a moment when no one was looking, he shoved two slightly cold steamed buns into Zeng Anmin's hands.
"My mother made these," Zhang Lun whispered. "They're my favorite food in the world. Have a taste."
Zeng Anmin was momentarily taken aback. He could easily tell from Zhang Lun's clothing that the boy's family was by no means well-off. These two buns were likely his entire lunch.
He quickly tried to refuse. "You eat them. I'll be fine."
"It's alright. I specifically asked my mother to prepare extra for me today," Zhang Lun said with a smile, stepping to the left to shield Zeng Anmin from view. "I'll cover you. Even if others catch a glimpse, they won't wag their tongues."
"This..." Zeng Anmin thought, deeply moved. "Tongyu, I've decided. From now on, you are the number one among the Top Ten Most Outstanding Youths Who Moved the Holy Dynasty!"
They were just two steamed buns, after all. Zeng Anmin wasn't going to be so overly modest as to refuse them to the death. Making quick work of it, he wolfed down the food in no time. At this moment, he finally understood Qi Dachun's terrifying appetite.
"Delicious!" Zeng Anmin's eyes lit up as he looked at Zhang Lun. "Your mother's cooking is truly excellent!"
This wasn't just empty flattery. Under his father's care, what delicacies hadn't he tasted? In the Governor's Mansion, ordinary meat-stuffed buns like these had long been crossed off the menu. He never expected a commoner woman to possess such culinary skill. It was true what they said—the real masters were hidden among the people.
"Heh, if you like them, I'll bring you some more tomorrow," Zhang Lun said, the corners of his lips curving upward.
Given his aptitude, he had heard plenty of praise since childhood. If Zeng Anmin had praised him directly, he wouldn't have felt a thing. But hearing someone compliment his mother brought him a profound sense of comfort.
"You really are a good person!" Zeng Anmin couldn't help but say, handing out a figurative 'good guy' card.
He was just about to continue speaking when a highly nonchalant voice rang out.
"Zhang Lun, how is your consideration regarding the matter I discussed with you yesterday?"
Zeng Anmin then saw a young man dressed in incredibly lavish and luxurious clothing approaching from a short distance away. The youth held a folding fan in his hand. He had a square face, and at first glance, his eyes appeared resolute. But upon closer inspection, one could catch the occasional flicker of gloominess within them.
Behind him trailed a burly man moving with an imposing, predatory gait. The man's temples bulged, and his gaze burned like a torch as he warily eyed everyone around them.
"He's at least a graded Martial Artist," Zeng Anmin concluded, his Dan Feng eyes slowly narrowing as he covertly appraised the brute.
"Crown Prince Wang Lin, there is no need to bring up yesterday's matter again," Zhang Lun said, the smile vanishing from his face the moment he saw the newcomer. He continued flatly, his expression blank. "I will not give you the Water Commander Order. Forget a hundred taels of gold; even a thousand taels are nothing but dirt to me."
"Water Commander Order?" Zeng Anmin thought, a look of sudden realization dawning on him as he listened from the sidelines.
Yesterday, when he first enrolled, the teacher had given Zhang Lun a Jade Pendant. It was said that whoever held this Water Commander Order could enter the Holy Book Library of the Shuidu Academy. Inside were the handwritten manuscripts of their Confucian Dao predecessors. For a Confucian Cultivator, it was an incredibly rare opportunity.
Hearing this, Wang Lin stared at Zhang Lun for a moment with a fake, skin-deep smile. "You don't have to take the silver," he said coldly. "If you are willing to give me the Water Commander Order, I can secure a bright future for you."
"Heh." Zhang Lun chuckled lightly. "I appreciate your good intentions, Crown Prince. However, I prefer to fight for my own future."
Though polite, every word was designed to keep the other party at arm's length.
SNAP!
Wang Lin snapped his folding fan shut. He gave a curt nod and decided to speak no further. "Since you are so stubborn, then we'll leave it at that. Ah Da, let's go."
Watching Wang Lin's receding figure, Zeng Anmin frowned and turned to Zhang Lun. "What's his background?"
"The Crown Prince of Prince Jiang's Mansion in Liangjiang Commandery," Zhang Lun replied, waving a hand dismissively. "Just a fellow relying on his family's prestige."
"Crown Prince of Prince Jiang's Mansion?" Zeng Anmin slowly searched his memory.
He had only been in Liangjiang Commandery with his father for four years. Though he had never met this Wang Lin, he had certainly heard of his reputation. As a Confucian Dao student, the youth had reached the Eighth Grade Nurturing Realm before the age of eighteen. He was undeniably someone of outstanding talent.
"Isn't it a bad idea to offend a powerful noble like him?" Zeng Anmin asked, furrowing his brow as he looked at Zhang Lun, not wanting to expose his own identity.
Hearing this, Zhang Lun was the one who frowned. He looked up at Zeng Anmin, a hint of disappointment in his eyes.
"Quan Fu, as followers of the Confucian Dao, if we are paralyzed by fear right from the beginning of our cultivation, we will inevitably bind ourselves in a cocoon on our future path!" His voice grew stern. "How can I bow and scrape to the high and mighty? If I do, how could my mind ever be at peace?!"
Upon hearing this, an overwhelming sense of shame unconsciously washed over Zeng Anmin. He had never expected that the Shuidu Academy would hide a student of such noble and pristine character.
"You misunderstand, Tongyu. I'm not afraid," Zeng Anmin said, shaking his head with a smile. "It's just that the bastard earlier said he could help you secure a bright future..."
"Heh." Naturally picking up on the joking tone in Zeng Anmin's words, Zhang Lun chuckled softly and said in a serene voice, "Since no one will support my soaring ambitions, I shall tread the snow to the mountain peak myself. Though I am but a mere scholar, I am a man of full stature. Why shouldn't I be able to carve out a bright and just future with my own two hands?!"
Zeng Anmin stared at Zhang Lun in a daze, as if looking at a rising star.
"I'm ashamed to admit it, but I don't possess your high aspirations, Tongyu," he replied. "All Anmin asks for in this life is half a pot of clear wine, a scrawny horse, two acres of fertile land, and three hundred million taels of spare silver..."
"Haha!" Zhang Lun couldn't help but burst into laughter.