The great bronze bell of Hongwu Academy tolled seven solemn times.
The sun had reached its peak over the southern mountains. It cast sharp, golden light across the packed Colosseum. Not a single spectator had left their seat. Country governors, clan patriarchs, guildmasters, and five thousand students stood in rapt, breathless attention as the Grand Law Council of Hongwu Academy assembled in the center of the arena.
In the center of the flat stone slabs, thirty Law Elders formed a rigid outer edge of drawn silver swords.
Before them, kneeling in heavy iron crushing weight chains, were the conspirators. Elder Zhao with his official rank badges stripped from his breast, three corrupt tournament exam guards pale with dread. The disgraced faction heads of Class 1.
Dean Shang stepped to the edge of the judging terrace, his white hair billowing in the mountain wind.
His voice, infused with Tier 4 core spiritual pressure, rolled across Mount Hongwu like echoing thunder:
“By the sacred power of the Founding Patriarch’s Charter, this Council delivers final judgment! For the crimes of fabricating evidence against an academy master, desecrating the sacred herbal vaults, using forbidden demonic blood pills in sanctioned matches, and tried assassination of an academy master in broad daylight—the verdict is total!”
Dean Shang pointed his ivory gavel at the chained conspirators.
“Vice-Principal Lu Xun and Elder Zhao are permanently stripped of all academic titles, their dantians sealed with soul-iron pins, and their lineage exiled to the northern iron mines for three hundred years! The three corrupt tournament exam guards who took bribes to rig match brackets are sentenced to fifty lashes and expelled forever from the province!”
A collective gasp of awe swept through the bleachers.
The three-decade high-born hegemony of the Lu Clan had been cleanly cut in a single afternoon.
Dean Shang then turned his gaze toward the western team bench.
His expression instantly softened, his stern, imposing aura melting away into deep, respectful humility. He raised both hands, signaling for total silence across the ten-thousand-man arena.
“And now,” Dean Shang announced. His voice shook with emotional deep ring that reached every corner of the mountain. “We convene the official defense hearing for the Re-sign-off of Teacher Lu Zhen and the status of Classroom 404!”
A murmur of eager excitement rippled through the crowd.
Thirty days ago, Lu Zhen had been the laughingstock of the teaching faculty. A disgraced 0-Star teacher facing forced termination and eviction from the mountain.
Frank stood up from the wooden bench.
He brushed some sawdust off his canvas work trousers, adjusted his leather suspenders. Then he picked up his pine clipboard. Under his arm, he tucked a thick folder of bound brown butcher paper tied with rough hemp twine.
He walked calmly to the center of the arena, stopping five paces before Dean Shang.
Behind him stood Shitou, Ling’er. Niu Mang, their yellow gourd hard hats strapped neatly under their chins, their stance straight, unbending. Then they disciplined as ancient mountain pines.
“Teacher Lu Zhen,” Dean Shang said warmly, leaning forward over the stone railing. “Present your defense for academic re-sign-off.”
Frank flipped open his clipboard with a crisp click of his brass clip.
“Reporting on academic deliverables for the probationary cycle,” Frank began, his voice flat, careful, and fully empty of poetic fluff.
“Item one: Enrollment quota. Needed baseline: three active students. Current roster: Shen Shitou, Jiang Ling’er, Niu Mang. Attendance rate over thirty working days: one hundred point zero percent. Zero unexcused absences, zero sick days, and zero tardiness.”
Frank flipped a page.
“Item two: Training advancement metrics. Needed baseline: maintain Tier One Body Tempering without regression. Actual outcome: all three students have completed high-pressure phase-change squeezing and advanced to Mortal Tier Two, Qi Sea Realm Layer One. Spirit vein defect margin: zero point zero percent. Micro-fractures, spirit vein lime-scale, and internal pill melted rock waste: zero.”
Frank flipped another page, pointing his pencil at a series of hand-drawn stone-built cross-sections.
“Item three: Work-yard upkeep and habitat safety. Classroom 404 was received in a state of severe load-bearing unsafe neglect. Over the past thirty days, my crew has replaced twelve rotted pine floor beams, reframed five double-hung sash windows with lead balance weights, driven an eight-foot solid copper equipment grounding rod into bedrock, and installed a closed-loop hydronic underfloor radiant heating system using high-thickness stone oil.”
Frank looked up over his glasses at Dean Shang and the assembled elders.
“The roof is watertight, the heat-rising envelope is sealed, and surrounding static back-EMF has been fully drained to ground. All work conforms to standard town building codes. Here is the signed check ledger, daily upkeep logs, and CIE-404 occupational safety rule-following sheets.”
Frank held out the thick stack of brown butcher paper with two hands.
The Chief Judge scurried forward, took the papers with careful respect. Then he carried them up to the judging terrace.
Dean Shang and twelve senior elders crowded around the papers.
The Academy Chief Accountant adjusted his crystal glasses. His hands shook as he traced the ink lines.
“Look at these counts...” the accountant gasped, tears welling in his eyes. “Every copper coin spent on nails and lumber is cross-referenced with vendor receipts! The daily fluid intake of each student is charted against their spirit vein squeezing curves! There are no missing numbers, no inflated expenses, and zero accounting discrepancies! In forty years of auditing academy ledgers, I’ve never seen such terrifying, flawless paperwork!”
Every elder on the judging terrace stared in stunned silence.
There were no excuses. There were no emotional appeals. There were no requests for special high-born dispensation.
It was a cold, iron-hard castle of pure, checked working data.
Dean Shang took the papers into his own hands, his chest heaving with overwhelming emotion.
“Careful...” Dean Shang whispered, his voice cracked with awe, the amplification stones carrying his breathless intensity to the highest tiers. “In three hundred years of Hongwu Academy history, our teachers have chased illusory reputations, fought over resource pills, and measured success by the cruelty of their swords. Not a single master ever cared whether their students breathed clean air, whether their floorboards were warm, or whether their spirit veins were protected from churning friction.”
Dean Shang looked down at Frank, his eyes blazing with sky conviction.
“You took three discarded, crippled children whom the entire world had abandoned to the dung heaps. You didn’t give them toxic pills. You didn’t teach them wicked shortcuts. You built their foundations square, true, and unbending!”
Dean Shang turned to the ten thousand spectators, raising the butcher-paper ledger high above his head:
“This isn’t zero-star teaching! This is the lost Dao of the Ancient Sages! The Dao of Absolute Foundation!”
Dean Shang reached into a velvet box held by the Chief Judge. Then he pulled out a heavy medallion forged from white star-jade and pure gold, suspended from a crimson silk sash. The Grand Laurel Medal of Hongwu Academy, the highest academic honor in the principality, untouched for over eighty years!
Dean Shang personally walked down the marble steps and draped the golden medal around Frank’s neck.
“By unanimous decree of the Grand Academic Council,” Dean Shang proclaimed, his voice booming across the valley, “Teacher Lu Zhen’s re-sign-off is passed with the highest honor of Supreme Distinction! Plus, the freehold deed of Classroom 404 and the entire Western Backup Ridge is hereby granted to Teacher Lu Zhen as permanent, tax-exempt lineage property in perpetuity!”
ROOOOOOOOOOOOAR!
The entire Colosseum erupted into an earth-shaking tsunami of applause!
Ten thousand people stamped their feet, cheering until their throats were raw:
“TEACHER LU!”
“CLASS 404! SUPREME CHAMPIONS!”
At that exact second, right before Frank’s eyes, his DAO-QA screen erupted into a blinding waterfall of brilliant golden light!
Ding!
A clean, metal chime sounded in Frank’s mind.
Three golden parchment pages, streaming ancient sky script, materialized in his mental inventory, slotting neatly into the Hotfix Pass-key Binder.
At the same time, a faint circular radar pulse rippled outward from his dantians. It extended to a fifty-meter radius. Every hairline crack in the arena flat stone slabs, every loose nail in the VIP bleachers, and every pinched nerve in the surrounding elders’ spines appeared in Frank’s mind as crisp, neon-amber test overlays.
Frank touched the heavy gold-and-jade medal around his neck.
“Star-jade and gold alloy,” Frank muttered under his breath, reading the system tooltip: [Purity: 94.2% | Weight: 1.4 lbs | Scrappable Melt Value: 450 Spirit Stones]. “Decent scrap value. At least it’s not lead-filled brass.”
Frank looked at Dean Shang and gave a polite, businesslike nod.
“Thank you, Dean Shang. Having the freehold deed on the western ridge will save us significant paperwork for the spring drainage spreading. Freehold status means we don’t have to pull town zoning permits to add a tool shed or pay dangerous material storage fees for our Black-Gold balance weights.”
Several prominent clan patriarchs and wealthy silk guildmasters surged forward down the arena stairs. It waved jade tokens and heavy velvet coin pouches:
“Master Lu! Please accept our clan’s direct heir as an apprentice!”
“Master Lu! Our merchant guild will donate ten thousand gold stones if you allow our eldest son to sweep your classroom!”
Frank held up both hands, frowning at the encroaching crowd.
“Clear the exit ramp,” Frank commanded firmly, tapping his clipboard against his palm. “You people are blocking the main way out hall. If a stampede occurs, thirty percent of you’ll suffer crushed metatarsals. Keep ten paces back. We don’t take uninspected applicants.”
Dean Shang right away signaled the Law Guards to form a protective cordon, chuckling warmly at Frank’s unbending discipline.
Frank turned on his heel, tucked his clipboard under his arm, and gestured to his three students.
“Pack the wheelbarrows, kids. Today we eat mutton hotpot.”
“YES, TEACHER!” Shitou, Ling’er, and Niu Mang shouted, their faces beaming with pure, uncontainable joy as they hoisted their toolbags. Then they pushed their wheelbarrows through the cheering crowd, their yellow gourd helmets shining like crowns in the midday sun.