Chapter 88: Pre-Job Training (Part One)

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Qin Ye tapped on the bedside table, deep in thought. The SRC’s approach was clearly unscientific. This was obviously some kind of alloy egg—no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t penetrate it... Wait! Someone could penetrate it! Alloy egg? What nonsense was he thinking?

“Looks like I can only temporarily settle for a secondary location... And I need to check with Su Feng about the structural plans of the First Cultivation University, see how deep underground we need to dig... I remember taking six elevator rides back then, each floor about three meters. That means nearly twenty meters beneath the foundation of Hui University... If the First Cultivation University digs too deep, it could be dangerous...”

Arthas pondered, “No rush. Let’s see first... Bao’an’s fall is still a way off. You have plenty of time to prepare. Are you really willing to give up on Kuafu just like that?”

Qin Ye shook his head.

He couldn’t let go.

But he had no choice.

Arthas sighed, “If it really doesn’t work out... Cao Youdao’s old base is decent enough. Hui Province doesn’t have many personnel; it’s unlikely anyone would deliberately search there. Your two questions just now were on point. But I must remind you, once the underworld’s entrance is chosen, it can’t be changed. Otherwise, why has Fengdu Ghost City existed for thousands of years? Has the underworld ever considered relocating?”

Qin Ye clicked his tongue and pulled the covers over himself. “We’ll talk later.”

He then rested well for several days.

With so many matters recently, he felt like a wound-up spring—it was time to loosen up.

Over the next few days, he made a call to Zhang Baoguo. The Timo incident was still unfolding; he wasn’t planning to go for now but promised to join Zhang Baoguo for New Year’s dinner.

As for the changes in Bao’an City... there was little difference before martial law was declared.

That bloody night in Bao’an City, those unaware would never know. The upper echelons were the only ones worried. Ordinary citizens continued with their lives. By the third day, order was restored, but some things were no longer hidden.

By the sixth day, all hospitals had installed new equipment and opened new clinics for identifying cultivation aptitude.

The usually quiet Funeral Street saw a slight increase in foot traffic, but more people gathered on a newly planned street beside it: Taiji Street.

Every new order was now publicly announced, so every citizen knew what this place was.

This was the hub for all sects, schools, and trade of cultivation materials!

All old shops were cleared out, replaced by merchants selling peachwood swords, talismans, and antiques most had only seen on television. Visitors went from sparse to enthusiastic in just a few days. On the last day of the week, many monks and Taoist priests even walked in openly.

The people of China were simple—they had low demands. As long as their daily lives were secure, they would tolerate much.

Every day, new orders were issued in Bao’an. The internet remained down and was explicitly stated never to be restored. Instead, a new news system would be introduced to maintain connection, yet some prohibited words could not be typed.

Schools began preparing a new subject: Cultivation Studies. Once teaching staff assessments were completed next year, it would be implemented in kindergartens, preschools, elementary, middle, high schools, and even the First Cultivation University, which planned a trial enrollment of its first batch of students after the winter break.

The government system was first to implement the cultivation system. On the third day, the Special Investigation Unit moved from underground to above ground, taking over most projects related to the supernatural and halting many departments that contacted the outside world.

Such news was constantly reaching Qin Ye’s ears. He happily swiped his computer card from Wang Chenghao, indifferent to the outside world.

The word “cultivation” was slowly catching fire in Bao’an.

On the seventh morning, Qin Ye got up early.

After washing and eating, it was already 7:30.

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The previous night, he had been added to a small group chat named “First Cultivation University Faculty 2018.” Only real-name registration was required.

A quick glance showed quite a crowd.

Not only were there many familiar faces, but also several notorious party and state traitors, like Lin Han, Li Runxue, and their group. Even Zhang Chenghai, who had once treated him to breakfast, was there.

There were also some particularly painful names.

“Honorary Department Head: Zhou Xianlong.” “Honorary Department Head: Chang Shun.”

Counting them, there were only two hundred people. Compared to other universities—even branches—where faculty numbers ran into the thousands, this was extremely streamlined.

He didn’t say a word all night, chatting vigorously in the adjacent group for socialist successors, only putting his phone away at midnight to sleep.

Changing into casual clothes, he called a car heading straight to Hui University.

“The First Cultivation University?” The driver chatted nonstop, eyes shining when Qin Ye gave the address, “Little brother, what’s it really like there? Is the pay really good?”

Qin Ye: “...”

“I heard those with aptitude get really good conditions there. I wonder if my son has that aptitude... Hey, little brother, tell me about it? I’ll give you a free ride.” “Oh, right, I just realized why you look familiar—you’re that Timo!” “Are you an ethnic minority? Your name was told to me by my son.” “Is there a special policy for ethnic minorities joining the Special Investigation Unit?”

Timo, indeed!

Ethnic minority, indeed!

Qin Ye said nothing, maintaining a cold demeanor. Just hearing “Timo” made his head ache. He got off the car amid the driver’s resentful gaze and stood at the university gate.

Hui University had changed somewhat.

The “Hui University” sign was removed, replaced by six metallic characters in silver strokes reading “First Cultivation University.”

The campus itself was unchanged, but the usual throngs of students were gone. All OFO, Mobike, and other bike-sharing systems were cleared away. The convenience store was replaced with antique-style décor. He wondered how they managed that in just seven days.

It felt somewhat deserted.

Following the notice, he arrived at the lecture hall stairs. It was already 8:30, and the faculty meeting would begin at 9. Many teachers were already there. At the door, a strong voice called out, “Hey, Timo! Over here!”

I’m about to fly up and kick him!

Without looking, Lin Han, the tall fool, grinned foolishly and waved. Qin Ye shot him a sharp glare and sat as close by as possible.

“Hello, Mr. Ti,” said the man next to him, a refined-looking man in his forties, wearing thick glasses and a Zhongshan suit. Despite his scholarly appearance, an aura of Yin energy radiated strongly from him. Smiling, he extended his hand, “I’m Zhao Hailong, a lone cultivator. Please take care of me.”

Qin Ye felt his heart bleeding—what was with “Mr. Ti”?! No escaping it now.

Suppressing his gritted teeth, he shook the man’s hand, forcing a smile, “Hello, S9527, Qin Ye.”

“S...” The middle-aged man was visibly startled but then furrowed his brow.

Not right... that day he heard many called “Timo.” An ethnic minority surname was understandable... Did he really make a mistake? Why did the other seem so sensitive?

Everyone in the lecture hall was chatting. Such large gatherings in the cultivation world were unprecedented. Those who reached the soul-binding level knew that working behind closed doors was useless; only mutual learning and complementing strengths was the way forward.

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“Silence.” At exactly nine, a voice full of true energy silenced the crowd.

Two figures rose from the front row and approached the podium.

One was an old man with white hair, wearing a black jacket with intricate embroidery. His features were ordinary.

The other was about sixty, thin, with a white beard and an ethereal, Taoist aura. He wore a white robe embroidered with green bamboo and mountains, exuding elegance.

Yet Qin Ye held no contempt.

These two elderly men, unremarkable in looks, carried true energy like a mighty river—unceasing and vast.

They were at the Impermanence level!

“I will introduce myself. I am Xu Anguo, the twenty-third generation leader of the Central Plains Cultivation Alliance. Thanks to the support of fellow cultivators, I have been honored to serve as president of the First Cultivation University.”

Qin Ye suddenly realized it was a mistake not to sit near the tall fool and his group.

His knowledge of the mortal cultivation world was too shallow, and now he couldn’t bring himself to ask a stranger.

The white-bearded man smiled, “I am Li Tao. Former director of the ‘Purple Qi East Arrival’ website. You could say I built the entire site single-handedly, never entrusting others. Grateful for the honor to serve as vice president.”

Unable to hold back, Qin Ye lightly cleared his throat and whispered to Zhao Hailong, “Brother Zhao, who are they?”

Zhao Hailong gave Qin Ye a surprised glance but then noticed his age and nodded knowingly. “Mr. Ti... I mean, Mr. Qin, you must have just joined the Special Investigation Unit. Some lone cultivators who haven’t left the province naturally aren’t as informed.”

...So what was with “Mr. Ti”? How deep was Timo’s impression on you that you don’t even play League of Legends?

Unaware of Qin Ye’s inner mockery, Zhao continued, “Lone cultivators struggle. Many don’t even understand their own path. The Central Plains Cultivation Alliance was formed by lone cultivators, founded in the mid-Ming Dynasty. But their realms were low, so they never had much say—just a weak group seeking mutual support.”

Qin Ye asked, “Then what about him...?”

“Do you mean why Xu Anguo qualified as president?” Zhao smiled slightly. “Yes, lone cultivators are weak, but in the early Republic, this extraordinary genius Xu Anguo emerged and reached Impermanence level early in the founding of the nation, elevating this obscure alliance’s reputation.”

“More impressive was his mastery of commerce and interpersonal relations. Skilled at navigating these, the Central Plains Cultivation Alliance went from a mutual support group to the largest alliance in the six provinces of Central Plains, even suppressing several famous temples, Taoist sects, and schools.”

Qin Ye understood.

Being president might not require the highest cultivation level.

But it certainly demanded social skills, fundraising ability, and resource competition.

Xu Anguo’s résumé made the position well deserved.

“What about the Purple Qi East Arrival website?”