The idea that one can be fully engaged in studying is somewhat questionable; in any case, as long as a person is fine, that’s what matters.

Sòng Míng didn’t care much about these unmotivated facts; he only wanted to know if Lín Zhúshēng was affected. From the looks of it, he wasn’t affected at all, so Sòng Míng didn’t ask further.

It seemed that Lín Zhúshēng, who was just passing through the whole situation, suddenly remembered something. He rummaged through his pockets, sat up straight from the table, and handed over a small package, saying, “I made this yesterday; it’s quite refreshing and invigorating.”

Not just refreshing, but very invigorating! I personally tested it, and the cultivation world has its own substitute for black coffee.

Sòng Míng graciously opened the paper bag and saw green little snacks inside. The packaging was quite rough, but that didn’t matter. He tried one.

It had a bitter herbal taste and a refreshing aroma. He slightly raised his eyes and said, “Líng Xū Cǎo?”

So accurate!

Lín Zhúshēng clapped his hands, quickly expressing his admiration.

He clapped as if he were rallying an army, and Sòng Míng’s habitually drooping eyes lifted slightly, letting out a smile.
【Sòng Míng’s favorability +2 (59/100)】

Along with the sound of clapping came footsteps. A few people swaggered into the classroom, drawing attention from those around.

These were the same few who had forgotten to complete their tasks and were supposed to have left the sect today. Not only did they not leave, but they also strutted into the classroom, clearly having found a way to resolve their issues. Their tragic fate had been turned around, no wonder they walked so boldly.

Their desire to show off was evident as they walked through the crowd with an air of indifference. Suddenly, they stopped, waving their hands in surprise.

When Lín Zhúshēng looked left and right and realized they were waving at him, he returned a smile and waved back with a small arc of his hand.

A few of them wanted to come over, but they were surrounded by other disciples who began a strict interrogation, drowning them in the sea of people.

“How did you complete the task? You didn’t steal from the storeroom, did you?”

“Quick, tell us if you bribed the steward! How did you bribe them?”

“Can’t you think of something good for us…”

Not far away, the crowd was in an uproar. Sòng Míng withdrew his gaze and turned to the person next to him who had just stopped waving, asking, “Do you know them?”

Lín Zhúshēng nodded, “Sort of.”

To be honest, he hadn’t seen their faces clearly yesterday due to the poor lighting. Today was the first time he realized what they looked like. But considering their favorability towards him was as high as 80, with one even inexplicably reaching 86, he could be considered quite familiar with them.

It was the first time he learned about this, and he didn’t know when he had gotten to know these people. Sòng Míng looked over, then finally shifted his gaze back, giving a slight nod.

The teacher hadn’t arrived yet, so there was still some time. Lín Zhúshēng looked around and finally left the wooden table he had been glued to, coming over this way. He pointed to a book set aside and asked with concern, “How much have you studied?”

In five days, it would be the day of the test. If he remembered correctly, this good fellow of his had not missed a single class before, but he hadn’t actually listened to any of them either. Most of the time, he was outside soaking up the sun and enjoying the breeze, so their starting points were no different, and he had even started reading later than Sòng Míng.

There was still a task on the list: [Help Sòng Míng enter the outer sect], which he would occasionally glance at. Whether it could be completed was another matter, but he at least had to symbolically check on the progress.

Sòng Míng replied, “I’ve finished reading.”

“?”

In a state of wanting to sleep but unable to, Lín Zhúshēng’s eyelids, which had been drooping all morning, finally lifted. He suddenly looked up in disbelief and repeated, “Finished reading?”

So many books piled together like a thick brick, perfect for knocking someone out. Just tearing them apart without thinking would take quite a bit of time, yet this good fellow of his seemed to have finished studying them quite easily.

The distance between them suddenly closed. Sòng Míng didn’t avoid it and explained, “What we’re learning shouldn’t be too difficult.”

With a snap, without any hesitation, Lín Zhúshēng bestowed the honor of being an intellectual upon himself.

The intellectual smiled and said, “Are you worried I won’t pass the test?”

He replied, “This time, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Being able to say that what he learned wasn’t difficult made Lín Zhúshēng feel confident about his test. He sat back, sighed in relief, and said, “That’s good.”

Sòng Míng asked, “Were you very worried?”

“Of course,” Lín Zhúshēng nodded, smiling, and said, “After all, I don’t want to part ways.”

Excluding the task requirements, he quite liked this first friend he had made.

When he smiled, his brows and eyes would naturally relax, as if he were revealing all his emotions without any concealment. Sòng Míng’s hand resting on the table moved slightly, but before he could say anything, the teacher walked in through the classroom door, and the people beside him instantly scattered.

The disciples returned to their seats, and the previously somewhat chaotic classroom quieted down, leaving only faint conversations and the sound of fabric rustling. Everything proceeded swiftly and skillfully.

“…”

With his raised hand dropping, Sòng Míng finally leaned back casually, his other hand touching the jade pendant at his waist, slowly weighing it.
【Sòng Míng’s favorability +6 (65/100)】

“?”

Just as Lín Zhúshēng returned to his seat and hadn’t done anything yet, a notification about the increase in favorability popped up. He turned his head in confusion but didn’t notice anything unusual, so he turned back.

The result of staying up all night was that as soon as the teacher began to lecture, he directly collapsed onto the table, hitting it hard.

The matter of the spiritual energy disappearing was left unresolved. With less than five days until the test day, he spent the remaining days in a tense and stimulating reading frenzy.

Having never experienced the hardships of exams in reality, he had a very immersive experience here. The night before the test, he was still frantically flipping through books.

“…”

The lamp on the table flickered, the sound of flipping pages continued, and finally, he finished reading the last page of the last book. Lín Zhúshēng buried himself in the sea of knowledge, completely still like a drowned fish.

He didn’t expect he could really finish so many books in such a short time. The little cat beside him circled around in disbelief, looking up at the stack of books that was taller than itself.

The drowned fish went to bed, closed its eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.

The next day, completely unaware, was the day of the test, and the weather was great.

Lín Zhúshēng, as usual, woke up late and ran to the academy.

The good news was that his physical fitness had greatly improved since reaching level 2, so running up the mountain was no longer exhausting.

Before the test time, the classroom was not open, tightly closed. He could only see someone guarding the entrance, and judging by their attire, they were the steward of the outer sect disciples.

Throwing the freshly made Líng Xū Sū into his mouth, he squeezed into the crowd to read the notice posted on the door.

The test would start at the beginning of the Sì hour and end at the end of the Sì hour, lasting for one hour. The results would be announced the next day. Those who passed could participate in the bone testing on-site and, if qualified, could directly obtain the status of an outer sect disciple.

Those who did not pass could also participate in the bone testing. If their bones were excellent, they could wait for the next year’s test to try again, retaining their status as a servant disciple in the meantime. Sòng Míng must have been a servant disciple all this time through this method.

Looking up and down, Lín Zhúshēng felt something was off. He randomly grabbed a nearby disciple and asked, “Is there only one test?”

The disciple confirmed.

The stack of books to be learned was piled higher than their heads, yet it was all condensed into one test. It was hard to imagine what the test content would be like. Lín Zhúshēng thanked the disciple, hesitated to withdraw his gaze, and turned to see Sòng Míng, waving at him.

As the time approached the Sì hour, the steward guarding the classroom door opened the door, and the disciples entered one by one.

He remained steadfastly at the back, and just before the door closed, he seemed to hear some noise. Turning his head slightly, he only saw the gap of the closed door.

Everyone took their seats.

“Buzz—”

The sound was not an illusion. A clear sword cry echoed from afar, resonating in the air, and a flash of light approached from beyond the academy’s mountain peaks.

A tall figure landed, and as the bright light appeared, the long sword was sheathed. The steward waiting outside stepped forward and said, “Líng Xǔ Jūn.”

He didn’t dare to look directly at the person, his gaze falling below the face, seeing the neat collar and the tidy long sword at the waist, then quickly retracting his gaze.

Wén Bǎi Zhōu nodded slightly and stepped into the academy.

The teacher in charge of the classes was unwell, so he came to substitute today, overseeing several classrooms on this peak and needing to inspect the situation.

By the time he arrived and understood the situation, the Sì hour had already passed, and the academy was quiet. The steward in the classroom sat quietly on the platform while the disciples below wrote furiously.

He rarely came to the outer peak, and as he walked past the windows of several classrooms, he didn’t see a single familiar face. Those who were confident wrote swiftly, while those who were lax in their studies hesitated, looking troubled; everything seemed normal.

The steward walked beside him and said, “This year’s test is slightly more difficult than in previous years.”

So there were more people in the classroom hesitating and not writing, probably regretting not having read a few more pages.

—There were also some who frowned and wrote quickly.

Before he stepped away, Wén Bǎi Zhōu noticed a disciple sitting by the last window.

The tears that flowed freely left an impression in his mind; he remembered this person. His gaze dropped slightly, and he glanced at the answer sheet on the other’s desk.

To his surprise, it wasn’t blank; it was even quite full. The test had barely started for less than fifteen minutes, and while the other disciples were still pondering the previous questions, this person had already turned the page and was nearing the end.

Such quick thinking speed was as talented as the ability to control tears.

But the person didn’t seem very happy; the hand gripping the pen was subtly tense, as if holding not a pen but something else, and their brows were constantly twitching.

“…”

From the moment he received the test content, Lín Zhúshēng finally understood where the strange feeling had come from.

The test wasn’t difficult; it only involved the history of Jiuzhou. He didn’t even need to think much; he just had to write down some content from the book along with some thoughts he had while reading before…

Then there was no “then.”

There were no complex pharmacological foundations or profiles of demon beasts, nor any obscure and hard-to-remember introductory sword techniques; it only involved the Jiuzhou history that he had spent a night learning.

In disbelief, he flipped through the scroll from beginning to end several times, and he finally confirmed that he had completed the test.

With a snap, his brows twitched, and he bent the pen in his hand with one hand.