Bombarding Cultivators with Cluster Artillery

Seven days had passed, and lights of escape flew towards various destinations.

Jiang Ding flew towards the exterior of the university, planning to use the three-day break between classes to visit home.

It had been four years, and he missed it strangely.

After six or seven hours, he arrived at Rongcheng City.

Checking the time, it was now three in the afternoon, during high school hours, so he flew to Rongcheng No.1 Middle School and landed next to the security room at the school entrance.

”Hello, I’d like to visit the school.”

Jiang Ding handed over his ID card for registration.

”Which middle school are you from? Skipping classes to be here isn’t good.”

The security guard, a young man around twenty, gave him a glance and frowned.

He didn’t really want to let a youth with a tendency for trouble into the school, lest it caused issues and the blame landed on him.

His gaze caught a glimpse of the ID card.

Jiang Ding.

Foundation-building cultivator.

ID number: 5227...

”Holy crap! Respected elder!”

Jiang Ding’s expression darkened.

Who’s your respected elder? Sure, you’re much younger than me, but be careful or I’ll accuse you of slander!

”I’m so sorry, respected elder, truly sorry for not recognizing you,”

The young man quickly registered him, chuckling apologetically, ”You look so young, I couldn’t recognize you, mistook you for one of those ruffians from the Fourth or Fifth Middle School trying to get in and hit on girls.”

Twelve years ago’s top scholar, at that time he was probably still in elementary school.

”...Don’t call me elder.”

Jiang Ding fell silent for a moment, but didn’t bother arguing with a kid, instead he asked, ”What about Old Hu the security guard?”

Old Hu the security guard, was the previous school security, surname Hu, with a big beard, very friendly to the students, occasionally playing basketball or soccer with the kids in school, having a good relationship.

”Old Hu retired, three years ago, probably at home taking care of his grandchildren now.”

”Retired.”

Jiang Ding was startled.

A moment later, he took his ID card, left the entrance, and started to stroll slowly around the school field, blending in with the crowd of high school students without standing out in any particular way.

”Weird old elder.”

Looking at his retreating figure, the young man muttered to himself and sat down to start browsing on his phone.

There were plenty of big shots coming and going in the sky that didn’t affect his life of lying flat, sparing himself decades of detours.

Wandering the field, the classrooms, and lakeside, Jiang Ding visited each place and experienced a plethora of emotions, bringing him a sense of calm.

In the Chinese class, he also found Lin Wanqiu teaching a bunch of fifteen or sixteen-year-olds, attentively listening, looking quite acclimated.

Without disturbing, he visited the cultivation room he often used during his senior high school years.

Jiang Ding approached the weapon rack and picked up a Magic Breaking Sword.

”It’s been quite a while since I’ve actually held and wielded a sword.”

Clang!

The sword left its sheath, tracing a perfect arc that shone brightly. The afterimage of the sword’s circle lingered in the air for a few breaths before slowly fading away.

”Expose Sword Style, not rusty, and there’s even room to improve upon perfection.”

Jiang Ding closed his eyes to feel, slightly observing his muscles with Divine Sense, and slashed with the sword again.

Clang!

The perfect arc reappeared, and within its vague contours, there was a beauty never seen before, with something special added to it.

”Beyond perfection, it’s about reaching a level of unconscious skill, isn’t it? Adding one’s own touch, elevating the original martial technique.”

”It’s a pity...”

Jiang Ding sighed, sheathed the sword, and returned it to the rack, taking one last look at this familiar cultivation room.

He turned and walked away.

After flying in the sky for a while, he was drawn by the distant booming sounds and the rat-tat-tat of gunfire, landing at a corner of the outdoor training field.

”Remember, cold weapons are just a hobby, you should only get an understanding, don’t be like those unfortunate ones in the previous years who clung to it without letting go, neglecting their academic performance...”

”You must understand, not everyone is like that senior of yours,”

Zhang Dingjun held a Magic Breaking Axe in his hand, swinging it vigorously from time to time, and shouted loudly.

Below, over thirty fifteen-year-old boys and girls nodded like pecking chickens.

Jiang Ding showed a look of nostalgia and did not disturb the normal course of the class.

Several hours later.

”Class dismissed, go back and think more about what you learned today,”

Zhang Dingjun announced.

A group of students, ravenous, scattered in an instant, rushing towards the direction of the bus stop.

Zhang Dingjun himself performed the Wind-riding Technique, his body floating up, about to fly away.

”Hello, Teacher Zhang,”

A sixteen-year-old youth in blue clothes appeared in his view, politely greeting him.

It felt natural, not out of place at all, as if he had always been there.

”Jiang Ding, is there something you don’t understand...”

Zhang Dingjun stopped the act of flying, asking instinctively.

”Holy shit!”

”Jiang Ding!”

”How did you pop up like a ghost?!”

Zhang Dingjun’s body shuddered, eyes bulging, speaking incoherently.

With a whoosh, he rushed in front of Jiang Ding, grabbed his neck, and shook it back and forth, brimming with excitement.

It took a while for him to calm down somewhat.

Zhang Dingjun looked him up and down, occasionally sniffing with his nose.

For a teacher who had nurtured the first Top Scholar of the Xianmen Sect, he would find it hard to forget.

”You’ve reached the foundation-building stage,”

Zhang Dingjun stated with certainty.

”Let’s see, twenty-eight and established the foundation... wow, that’s the mark of a Top Scholar of the Fairy Door.”

He sucked in a breath of cold air.

”How did you figure that out?”

Jiang Ding asked, puzzled.

It was the same with An Tuzi, and the same with Teacher Zhang.

”Guesswork.”

Zhang Dingjun laughed, ”More than ten years ago, you were already at the peak of Xiantian. Even if you wasted some time switching your cultivation path, by now you surely would have reached foundation building. After all, there’s no bottleneck to speak of.”

”Sigh, by comparison, my kid still has no Inner Qi. He’s thirteen and has such poor aptitude…”

He looked at Jiang Ding with eyes full of hope,

Stopping just short of saying it out loud.

”Luckily, I came prepared,”

Jiang Ding gave a wry smile and tossed over a jade bottle: ”Here’s a top-quality Qinghua Yunji Elixir for little friend Zhang, wishing him a smooth journey on the Immortal Path and success in his future foundation building.”

”Top-quality Qinghua Yunji Elixir!”

Zhang Dingjun was overjoyed, accepting it without any reserve, ”Truly the gesture of a foundation-building great cultivator, grand and generous. Thank you so much, really.”

Such an elixir was precious, but more importantly, there was no way to obtain it.

Golden Pill Monks capable of concocting such elixirs wouldn’t waste time making such low-level ones for mortals to use, and very few made it to the market.

The two chatted for a while longer, reminiscing about their high school years with great emotion.

More than an hour later,

Jiang Ding bid farewell to Zhang Dingjun.

Afterward, he visited each of his teachers in turn, chatting with them, asking about their health over the years, sharing interesting teaching experiences, and upon parting, he presented each with a bottle of Qinghua Yunji Elixir, containing three pills.

If stored properly, these could essentially ensure that three generations would have a decent starting point in their Martial Dao aptitude.

Once he had finished these tasks, he flew up into the sky, unfolded his Divine Sense, and quickly located Lin Wanqiu’s position, who was on a bus, hurrying home.

Jiang Ding sped up, arriving at the next stop ahead of time to wait.