Chapter 111: Could Not Help but Narrow His Eyes...

After Qin Xiao left, Jiang Lin remained lounging in his chair, sunbathing and fishing. Since he was waiting around anyway, he figured he might as well enjoy himself—after all, even if the world were ending, one still had to live, and he had to go teach Madam Qian to read that evening.

The mere thought of teaching Madam Qian gave Jiang Lin a headache. Honestly, if it were just an ordinary fox demon appearing in the mansion to absorb life essence, it wouldn’t be a big deal; even if the fox were a high-ranking elite of the Dugu Demonic Sect, he wouldn’t be particularly bothered. He would simply tie the fox up in the evening and subject it to a grueling interrogation. Jokes aside, in all his years as a disciple of the Demonic Sect, there had never been a mouth he couldn’t pry open.

However, Jiang Lin realized something was deeply off. Hadn't he been running into a few too many foxes lately? First, there were the two little white foxes at the dilapidated temple on the outskirts of Donglin City, then the mysterious, incredibly powerful veiled white fox leader, and now this four-tailed fox demon. Were fox demons really that common? Had he accidentally stumbled into a fox den?

Ever since he encountered that first fox at the temple, Jiang Lin had been on edge, wondering if she would come to Donglin City. Her cultivation level was truly incomprehensible; she had trapped him in an illusion without him even realizing it. If she had wanted to kill him then, he wouldn't even have known how he died. The only reason Jiang Lin had entered the city was a gamble—that she hadn't reached the Yupu stage, or that even if she had, she wouldn't strike again. After all, she had spared him at the temple. Moreover, white foxes were naturally solitary and disliked human company, so he guessed they weren't deeply involved with the Dugu Demonic Sect. They might share some minor common interests, but surely not enough to warrant further action.

When he learned that the Blood Name Array had been set up in Donglin City, his conviction grew stronger. White foxes were born with a love for purity and were notoriously fastidious. Asking a white fox to set up an array in a city as filthy as one tainted by the Blood Name Array was like asking a guy with extreme OCD to share a water bottle with you. If he agreed, you had to be careful—either he was a weirdo, or he was a follower of the King... or he was trying to "practice" with you. The probability of those three white foxes remaining in Donglin City was incredibly low.

Yet... why did his right eyelid keep twitching?

"Teacher..."

Just as Jiang Lin was propping his chin on his hand, pondering the mysteries of life while fishing, the cheerful voice of Fatty Qian drifted over from nearby.

"Teacher! Here is my homework! Please take a look!"

Fatty Qian respectfully presented a stack of papers to Jiang Lin, containing nearly a thousand words of reading reflections. Jiang Lin took a casual glance, but the handwriting was so atrocious he felt like his eyes had been assaulted.

"Teacher... how was the student's reflection? Did I manage to grasp even a fraction of your wisdom?" Fatty Qian asked timidly from the side.

"Well, about that..." Jiang Lin mused, starting to spout nonsense with a straight face: "The calligraphy is free-spirited, the words are moving, and the understanding is profound. Although it lacks flowery prose, it possesses a simplicity as fragrant as fresh soil. Especially those two tear stains at the end—they add a truly profound touch."

"Um... Teacher..." Fatty Qian squirmed, his chubby face flushing red. "Actually, that's just the drool from when I accidentally fell asleep..."

"..." Jiang Lin set the papers on the chair and wiped his hands on Fatty Qian’s robe.

"Teacher... am I too dull?" Fatty Qian hung his head, looking as aggrieved as a three-hundred-pound child.

"No! Fatty!" Jiang Lin draped an arm over his shoulder. "Actually, what’s written on the paper doesn't matter. A great man once said: 'Practice is the sole criterion for testing truth.' Knowledge on paper always feels superficial! The hour is late; let's go. Your teacher will take you to conquer that young lady!"

"Eh?" Fatty Qian’s frame trembled, his face reddening, his eyes darting around with a hint of bashfulness. "Teacher, now?"

"Right now!"

"But Teacher, I’m not prepared..."

"Prepared for what!" Jiang Lin slapped his shoulder hard. "Our lives don't require extra preparation! Every day is a live broadcast! You must have confidence in yourself! Do you know what my greatest advantage is?"

"Your good looks?"

"Wrong!"

"Your talent?"

"Also wrong!"

"Your kindness?"

"Dead wrong!"

Jiang Lin sighed softly, speaking with profound earnestness: "It is the luxury of being suave!"

...

Half an hour later, Jiang Lin, dressed in white and holding a white fan, walked into the backyard with Fatty Qian, who had shed his usual gaudy jade pendants and gold ornaments.

What was the "luxury of being suave"? It wasn't about wearing gold and silver to make sure everyone knew you were rich. That wasn't wealth; that was tackiness. Truly wealthy people dressed simply and modestly, yet every shirt they wore cost a fortune. It was about an aura of dominance in every gesture, a subtle exuding of the "eligible bachelor" vibe... In short, it was about showing off in front of others while remaining low-key and retaining one's class.

Alright... he couldn't keep making this up. Jiang Lin had initially thought this way and taught Fatty Qian the "Three Waves" philosophy. But gradually, he realized something was wrong. This kind of thing was too hard to master quickly. In this era, it was either gold, silver, antiques, or calligraphy—to tell someone you were rich "unintentionally" required the other person to have the ability to appreciate such things. It wasn't like his previous world, where a Rolex or an Armani suit needed no explanation; you just had to recognize the brand, flash it, and the other person would be dazzled.

Besides, the girl already knew Fatty Qian was the dim-witted son of a wealthy landlord. Why didn't she just give in? Even in his old world, if he could drift a Ferrari with one hand, the car would be full of girls in no time. Was it because women in ancient times were more reserved? Or perhaps she had a sweetheart, or she simply viewed Fatty Qian as a local bully—the type to use someone and toss them aside? If she was just reserved, that was manageable; he was already halfway there. If she thought he was a bully, that was also fine—Fatty could show his sincerity over time. But if she had a sweetheart... well, that was a bit troublesome, but still fine.

Jiang Lin always firmly believed: There is no wall that cannot be breached, only a hoe that is not wielded hard enough!

However, just as they reached the arched gate of the backyard, Jiang Lin stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at the courtyard before him, his eyes narrowing.

Now... Jiang Lin finally understood why the girl had rejected Fatty Qian.