Star Martial Soaring Cloud

Whether it's Young Master Yun or Young Master Ye, they each have their own legends and their own wonderful stories.

But after this comparison, if we're talking about who the number one young master in Kyushu is, it has to be Jiang Feng.

It's not that he was actually the richest man in the world, but rather that his performance was too perfect.

Such a contrast, so striking, is what makes it so captivating.

Ye Xin and Yun Yi's performances were certainly not bad, but they had a fatal flaw—they were too immersed in their own world.

There's nothing we can do about it; that's just how their world is.

Of those present, how many truly recognized the rarity of these exotic beasts? How many could identify the eight delicacies that were so rare in the world?

Most people are just joining in the fun.

But the miraculous sight of tall buildings rising from the ground and wishes coming true is something everyone can truly experience.

Everyone witnessed it firsthand and felt a deep resonance; it was this nationwide empathy that sparked a city-wide frenzy.

Chengzheng Square has become empty again.

The nine-story building had long been completely demolished, as if it had never existed.

All that remained were fallen petals scattered on the ground and a faint aroma of wine lingering in the air.

"Is that all?" Zhou Qian was still somewhat unsatisfied.

"Let's go." Wang Xiao was the first to stand up.

Xie An, standing to the side, muttered to himself, already calculating the intricacies of the building's construction: "A nine-story building, completed in half an hour... The precision of the mechanisms must be impeccable, otherwise the mortise and tenon joints simply cannot fit together perfectly..."

Mechanical arts and formations are two major branches of the same knowledge. Once Xie An becomes obsessed with studying them, he will be so engrossed that no one can dissuade him.

Wang Xiao and Zhou Qian exchanged a glance and both smiled helplessly.

The three of them followed the flow of people out of Chengzheng Square and slowly walked back along Changqian Street.

People on the street were still discussing the grand occasion, their voices rising and falling in a lively and bustling atmosphere.

"Who do you think is the most capable among these three young masters?"

"Young Master Yun has a grand presence, while Young Master Ye is imposing; each has their own merits!"

"And what about Young Master Jiang?"

"Young Master Jiang..." The man was silent for a moment, as if he was thinking seriously, "Young Master Jiang doesn't seem to be showing off his wealth, he seems to be casting a spell."

"Spellcasting?"

"Yes, building a skyscraper from scratch—that's practically divine intervention!"

"you do not say!"

……

As the chatter faded into the distance, Wang Xiao slowed his pace.

"Lu Yang, what are you thinking about?" Zhou Qian asked.

Wang Xiao shook his head: "I'm just thinking that with Jiang Feng's move, the subsequent wealth contest might not be able to continue."

Zhou Qian paused for a moment, then suddenly realized: "You mean..."

"Mountains are meant to be climbed, but when they reach the starry sky, all that's left is to look up in awe," Wang Xiao said softly. "Who would willingly invite trouble and humiliation upon themselves?"

Wang Xiao had half a sentence left unsaid, and this matter went unnoticed by most people.

Young Masters Yun and Ye could accept the idea of ​​building skyscrapers from scratch.

But what truly changed their expressions was when those eight identical dishes were served.

They knew perfectly well that the dishes they prepared involved complicated processes and used only the rarest and most precious ingredients in the world. They kept these secrets very carefully and arranged everything meticulously.

Yet Jiang Feng still managed to replicate it perfectly.

This is the most frightening and terrifying aspect, and the real reason why the competition of wealth can no longer continue.

Zhongcheng, Dongcheng Street.

At the western end of the street is Dongcheng Gate, one of the four main gates of the imperial palace, from which the street derives its name.

The street is not long, but it is very wide. Both sides of the street are lined with large mansions with their vermilion gates tightly closed and the stone lions in front of them solemn and dignified.

Ordinary people passing by this place will subconsciously slow their pace and not even dare to speak loudly.

The Jiang residence was located on the western section of the street, only a mile away from Dongcheng Gate.

The rosewood bed was carried into the mansion by the servants. As soon as it hit the ground, Jiang Feng rolled off the bed.

He patted the wrinkles on his robe, his eyes were clear, and his steps were light; there was no trace of drunkenness left.

"Young master, the master is waiting for you in the main hall." An old servant stepped forward quickly, bowed, and reported in a low voice.

"Understood." Jiang Feng waved his hand, strode across the front yard, around the screen wall, through the corridor, and into the main hall.

The main hall inside the mansion is spacious and bright, with carved beams and painted rafters, exuding an extraordinary grandeur.

In the very center, a middle-aged man sat upright in a grand chair.

This man was about fifty years old, with a thin face and a resemblance to Jiang Feng in his eyes and brows, but he exuded a more composed and dignified aura.

He was dressed in a dark blue casual robe with a simple cloth belt around his waist, without any gold or jade ornaments or embroidered patterns, looking just like an ordinary scholar.

But his eyes were sharp and bright, as if he could see through the myriad aspects of people's hearts.

Grand Minister of Works Jiang Yun.

He held the top position in the Ministry of Works, overseeing all aspects of construction, water conservancy, and land reclamation. He was not only one of the most capable ministers in the Great Qian Dynasty court, but also one of the most powerful figures in the capital.

He was leisurely sipping tea, which was this year's newly harvested spring tea, brewed with Yuquan spring water, its elegant aroma filling the room.

"Is everything settled?" Jiang Yun gently put down her teacup, looked at her son who looked somewhat displeased, and asked in a calm and even tone.

"Could you please stop asking me for these kinds of jobs in the future?" Jiang Feng didn't bow, but walked straight to the table, snatched the teacup in front of his father, and drank it all in one gulp.

The teacup was a gift from the emperor, made in the imperial kiln, and was priceless, but he didn't care at all.

"We are both citizens of the Great Qian Dynasty, and it is our duty to share His Majesty's burdens and solve his problems." Jiang Yun's tone was calm, without a trace of blame or praise, simply stating the facts.

"I also have many worries, who will share my burdens!" Jiang Feng put the empty teacup back on the table, turned around and walked out.

"Oh? You have something bothering you too?" Jiang Yun raised an eyebrow slightly.

"I have too many girls I like, it's really hard to choose." Jiang Feng said without turning his head, his tone slightly flippant and teasing.

"Then we shall marry them all into our household." Jiang Yun's tone remained calm and unmoved.

Jiang Feng paused in his tracks when his father responded so frankly to his casual remark.

He didn't turn around, remained silent for a moment, and then said, "It seems Father is in a very good mood today."

After saying that, he strode out of the main hall.

Jiang Yun watched her son's retreating figure, slowly picked up another cup of tea, and took a small sip.

The tea was cold, but he didn't mind.

This grand display of wealth has now come to an end, which is certainly a good thing for the imperial court.

While temporary spectacular sights and phenomena may broaden the horizons of the people, a prolonged trend of extravagance and competition is certainly not a blessing for the nation.

If people saw with their own eyes the immense wealth and status that they could never attain in a lifetime, or even ten lifetimes, would the people of the world still be able to work diligently and strive in peace? Would they not have any distracting thoughts and doubts in their hearts?

Stopping in time is the best outcome. In such a vast and bustling city as the capital, there is never a shortage of things that attract attention.

The current enrollment assessments for Jixia Academy and Jingwei Dao Academy are the most anticipated events in the capital.

As always, Su Qinhe planned to go to Jingwei Dao Academy to study the art of formations.

She wore a light blue long dress with a plain white cloak over it, and her black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, exuding an elegant and gentle temperament.

But as soon as she reached the gate of Jixia Academy, she was stopped by the gatekeeper.

"Student Su, please wait." This teacher surnamed Luo was over fifty years old, with a kind face and spoke slowly and deliberately.

Su Qinhe stopped and bowed slightly, saying, "Master Luo."

"Both academies need to prepare for the upcoming assessments, so they will be closed from today onwards," Professor Luo explained.

Su Qinhe paused slightly, remained silent for a moment, and then asked softly, "Teacher Luo, when will we be able to meet the newly admitted students who have passed the assessment?"

Teacher Luo was puzzled as to why she specifically asked about this matter. After a moment's thought, he slowly replied, "We will meet again after the assessment ends on March 5th. You and this group of new students are in the same cohort, and you will be studying and taking assessments together from now on."

Su Qinhe nodded gently, said nothing more, and turned to leave silently.

This time, his departure was slow, quite different from when he arrived.

After returning from Demon Island, they were taken directly to Jixia Academy and their movements were restricted.

The Great Qian Dynasty did not hide what happened on Demon Island from the leaders of the major powers, but it kept it strictly closed to the outside world.

The identities of the survivors of the Demon Island are classified as secret and must not be revealed to anyone.

The few survivors who left the capital were all subjected to a unique supernatural technique: unless they saw the others who had escaped from the Demon Island with them, they would not remember anything that had happened on the Demon Island.

Meanwhile, a discussion about the Jixia Academy's assessment was taking place in a private room of an unnamed restaurant in the southern part of the city.

This restaurant is small in size and has simple, ordinary decor, typical of any place in the southern part of the city.

The private room was located at the deepest part of the second floor, with the doors and windows tightly closed and the curtains drawn so tightly that they blocked out all outside noise.

Inside the private room, a faint spiritual light flowed. The tabletop, walls, and floor were all engraved with intricate array patterns, which shimmered with a faint blue glow under the candlelight.

This is a top-secret formation that combines sound insulation, protection against divine sense detection, and shielding against all external prying eyes.

Two people sat at the table, neither of whom revealed their true faces.

A man was dressed in a wide black robe, his hood pulled down low, with most of his face hidden in shadow. Only the outline of his jaw could be vaguely seen, making it impossible to tell his age or what expression he had.

The other person was dressed in an elegant long robe and wore a veiled hat. The light veil hanging down completely covered his face, and under the flickering candlelight, only a hazy shadow remained.

He sat in a relaxed posture, leaning back in his chair, his fingertips lightly tapping the table, one tap after another, at a steady, unhurried pace.

The man in the plain robe spoke first. His voice wasn't young, and his tone was flat and cold, with a hint of icy in it: "For someone of your status to come and meet me at this time is rather inappropriate."

The man in black robes remained silent for a moment, the candlelight flickering in the shadows of his hood, before finally speaking slowly: "The Jixia Academy's examinations are always fair and rigorous. To ensure impartiality, all students take the exam alone under equal conditions, and the questions are only revealed on the spot. Under these circumstances, what difference does it make when I see you? Do you know the questions? Or can you decide the examination venue, my chief examiner?"

He deliberately emphasized the words "chief examiner," his words carrying a hint of mockery and a touch of probing.

The man in the plain robe did not respond to these words. He stopped tapping his fingers on the table and leaned forward slightly: "Since you know the whole story so well, what is your purpose in coming to see me?"

"But this time is different." The man in black robes remained calm and composed.

Beneath the veil, the person in plain robes kept their gaze fixed on the person in black robes, their voice deliberately lowered: "You mean... seven people have already secured their spots in the selection."

The man in black robes neither nodded in agreement nor denied it; he simply sat quietly, gazing at the man silently.

"That's why this assessment can be slightly modified."

The man in the plain robe tapped the table lightly with his fingertips again, the tapping rhythm a few beats faster than before, as if he were weighing the pros and cons in his mind.

The noise outside the window was blocked by the array, but he could still hear the hawking and bargaining sounds.

"What makes you so sure I'll agree to your proposal?" The man in the plain robe spoke with a faint smile, as if he found the matter quite amusing.

The man in black robes slowly raised his hand, gently lifting the edge of his hood to reveal a pair of deep, composed eyes.

His gaze pierced through the veil and landed directly on the face of the man in the plain robe. He said, word by word, "Because you have come to keep your appointment."

The private room fell silent instantly, with only the occasional soft crackling of the candlelight.