Chapter Ten: Clean the Restroom Thoroughly

By the time he returned home, it was already quite late. At this hour, Angela had long since gone to bed. Without a word, Vincent Yang headed straight for a shower before returning to his own room.

Even though he'd shared plenty of drinks with Christine Wang tonight, Vincent felt not the slightest trace of drunkenness. The events of the day weighed far more heavily on his mind.

He sat cross-legged on his bed, summoning the true energy within his body and began his cultivation. Sleep, at this point, had lost much of its meaning for him. Slumber and cultivation, to him, were nearly indistinguishable—the former simply consumed time to replenish his spirit, while the latter not only did that but also raised his level of mastery. After a session of cultivation, he would feel as invigorated as ever. Comparing the two, it was clear which was superior.

...

In the early hours of the next morning, Vincent was roused from his meditative state by Angela’s voice calling from outside. A night spent cultivating left him not tired, but rather more energetic than before—such was the true benefit of cultivation.

“I’ve reached the peak of the third stage of Qi Training,” Vincent mused. He now stood at the very summit, but breaking through would require an opportunity—a new technique to integrate into his practice.

With that thought, Vincent retrieved the Heaven Reliant Sword he’d wrested from the hands of Abbess Extinction. Forged from celestial meteorite, the blade was incomparably solid—a veritable divine weapon. Still, a sword from ancient times was but an ancient sword; no matter how advanced their methods, they would not compare to the present. Vincent chose to use his own alloy sword to sever the Heaven Reliant Sword.

If the martial sects from the world of the Heaven Sword and Dragon Sabre could witness this, they would surely curse him as a prodigal—destroying such a treasure was nothing short of sacrilege.

A crisp metallic chime rang out as Vincent’s alloy blade cleaved the Heaven Reliant Sword clean in two.

At that precise instant, the system’s voice sounded in his ear:

“System notification: Detected the ‘Nine Yin Manual’ and ‘Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms’. Would you like to fuse them with your Heavenly Dao technique? Fusion requires 500 points.”

“Proceed,” Vincent replied.

“System notification: Fusion successful.”

After integrating the two techniques, Vincent discovered that the bottleneck within him had vanished in an instant. Without a moment’s hesitation, he resumed his cross-legged posture and returned to cultivation.

An hour later, Vincent opened his eyes and exhaled a long, turbid breath.

“Congratulations, Host, you have broken through to the fourth stage of Qi Training. You have received the Stage Four Treasure Chest. Would you like to open it?”

But Vincent paid no heed to the system’s prompt. He had already noticed the foul stench wafting from his own body—a layer of black grime, the accumulated impurities from within him, now expelled thanks to his breakthrough.

He took another shower. Standing before the bathroom mirror, he looked at his bare reflection and couldn’t help but smile. He was no longer the man he’d been—the skin on his body was now smoother than a woman’s, and he didn’t even need to bother with daily maintenance.

When he emerged, he noticed a note left by Angela on the table: breakfast was in the kitchen, and she had already gone ahead to school.

“System, open the Stage Four Qi Training Treasure Chest,” Vincent ordered.

“Ding... Congratulations, Host, you have received the Intermediate Sword Technique: ‘Taiji Sword Art’.”

Taiji Sword Art: Using the dual principles of Yin and Yang as the foundation, it flows endlessly in a perpetual cycle.

A smile played at Vincent’s lips as he received this news. Up to now, he’d only possessed low-level sword techniques, their power limited. Only with more advanced techniques could he truly demonstrate his growing strength, and the Taiji Sword Art was precisely such an art.

After breakfast, Vincent set out for school. Cultivation was important, but so was attending school—his father’s greatest hope was that he would be admitted to a top high school.

In the past, it would have been unthinkable for the old Vincent, who dozed through class and couldn’t answer a single question, to aspire to such a thing. But now, having cultivated new techniques and with a phenomenal memory, problems that once stumped him were easily solved.

As soon as he stepped through the school gates, he heard the bell signaling the end of class.

When Vincent reached his classroom, Christine Wang immediately pulled him aside. “Why are you so late? You missed an entire period!”

“I overslept,” Vincent replied. He certainly couldn’t tell her he’d been delayed by a breakthrough in his cultivation.

Christine said, “I’m telling you, you missed it—Old Skinhead saw you weren’t here and looked like he wanted to eat you alive. The next class is his again, so you’d better brace yourself.”

Old Skinhead—a nickname for Mr. Zhou, their physics teacher and the one who’d caught them smoking the day before—was notorious for his severity; almost no student dared cross him. In the past, some students had been made to squat outside his office for being late, and that wasn’t even the worst of it—sometimes parents had to be called in as well.

Vincent had never liked attending class, but he’d never been late before; he always cut it close but made it on time. Today was different.

He shrugged helplessly; there was nothing else he could do.

Sure enough, Vincent had barely warmed his seat before Old Skinhead strode into the classroom.

“Hm?” Old Skinhead’s eyes narrowed with severity when he saw Vincent present.

As the class was drawing to a close, Old Skinhead fixed Vincent with a steely gaze. “Vincent Yang, come to my office after class.”

When Old Skinhead had left, Christine hurried over. “Mouse, don’t say your brother isn’t loyal. I told Old Skinhead you were out sick.”

“Alright, I get it. It’s just Old Skinhead—he’s not going to eat me.” Vincent patted Christine’s shoulder and got up to head for the office.

It was just an office, after all—he, Vincent, had dared to storm the very heart of the Demon Sect. What was an office compared to that? Surely not more terrifying.

When he arrived, Old Skinhead was seated, his expression sour, clearly waiting for someone. It didn’t take a genius to guess who.

“Mr. Zhou,” Vincent greeted as he approached the desk.

“Come with me,” Old Skinhead said at once, rising and making his way out of the office.

Vincent followed, still unsure what kind of punishment awaited him.

Soon, Old Skinhead led him to the entrance of the school bathrooms.

He handed Vincent a broom. “Clean all the cigarette butts out of the boys’ restroom.”

“Huh?” Vincent thought he must have misheard.

Old Skinhead repeated himself, “If you didn’t catch that, I’ll say it again—clean all the cigarette butts out of the boys’ restroom. I’ll come check after school.”

With that, he turned and strode away without a backward glance.