The master stood to the side, his sharp eyes catching sight of the martial spirit certificates in Old Jack's hand.
He cleared his throat twice, each cough sounding like it carried the weight of years of disappointment.
"Old sir," he said, doing his best to sound authoritative. "May I see the martial spirit certificates of these two boys?"
Old Jack, being the sharp-witted village elder that he was, immediately picked up on the man's mannerisms.
This guy… he doesn't carry himself like a big shot, but the concierge called him 'Master.'
So… probably important?
Without hesitation, Old Jack handed over the certificates. After all, a man who looks like he hasn't smiled in twenty years must have some level of authority.
Yu Xiaogang took the certificates, examined them like a scholar analyzing an ancient text, then coughed lightly again.
"Old sir," he said, his voice carrying the weight of years spent being underestimated. "These certificates are real. Let them come with me."
Tang San and Arthev exchanged glances.
Well, that was easy.
They turned to Old Jack and bid their farewells.
The old man, ever the responsible guardian, threw in some last-minute words of wisdom before heading off.
"Listen to your teachers, don't cause trouble, and for the love of the spirits—DON'T GET INTO FIGHTS!"
Tang San and Arthev both smiled awkwardly.
"Uh… yeah, about that..."
After Old Jack left, Tang San turned to Yu Xiaogang with genuine confusion.
"Teacher, where are we going now?"
Yu Xiaogang lowered his head, forcing a smile onto his face.
A very stiff, uncomfortable, "this is my first time attempting human emotions" kind of smile.
Arthev, who had been silently observing, immediately felt a migraine incoming.
"Sweet spirits above, that face looks like it's trying to remember how happiness works."
"I'm not a teacher at the academy," Yu Xiaogang said with a mysterious tone, as if he were revealing some ancient, forbidden knowledge.
Tang San blinked in confusion. "Since you're not a teacher, then… are you the head of the academy? The concierge called you 'Master,' after all."
Yu Xiaogang threw his head back and laughed—a laugh that carried the weight of someone who hadn't had a genuine reason to laugh in years.
"Hahahaha! You're just six years old, but you're quite smart," he said, shaking his head. "Still, you're wrong. I am not the leader of the school."
Arthev stood silently at the side, watching this back-and-forth.
Inside his mind, a stampede of grass and mud horses was galloping wildly.
"If you have something to say, just say it. Why stretch it out like some great philosophical revelation?!"
Tang San, his young mind trying to process this nonsense, tilted his head and asked, "Then who are you?"
Yu Xiaogang puffed out his chest, putting on the air of a wise sage about to reveal a profound truth.
"I am merely a guest here, eating and drinking," he declared. "People just call me 'Master' so often that even I sometimes forget my real name."
Arthev, watching this performance, resisted the urge to facepalm and instead gave Yu Xiaogang a thumbs-up in his heart.
"Truly worthy of the title 'Master'—Master of freeloading!"
Yu Xiaogang then looked at Tang San seriously.
"You must understand that 'Master' and 'Teacher' are two very different things. Don't get them confused… unless, of course, you want me to be your teacher."
A brilliant strategy—not asking to be a teacher, but making the student ask for him instead!
Arthev watched in silent admiration.
"A man who turns joblessness into an art form… Yu Xiaogang, you have my respect."
Yu Xiaogang thought about the martial soul certificates he had just seen and furrowed his brows.
"These kids… at least one of them must have twin martial souls. Otherwise, how could someone with mere Blue Silver Grass be innately full of soul power?!"
He glanced at Tang San, who was looking at him eagerly and comfirm he must be the one.
"Master, are you going to teach us how to cultivate martial arts?" Tang San asked, his voice filled with excitement.
Yu Xiaogang stopped walking, turned around dramatically, and said, "Then… are you willing?"
Tang San immediately froze, his excited expression fading into deep contemplation.
He didn't nod. He didn't shake his head. He just stared at Yu Xiaogang with a gaze that seemed to say: You think I'll just agree without knowing what I'm signing up for?
Yu Xiaogang chuckled at this reaction, but with his stiff, expressionless face, the laughter didn't make him look friendly—it just made him look even more awkward.
Arthev, watching this, sighed internally. If this guy were a merchant, he'd go bankrupt on his first day. "Are you willing?" What kind of sales pitch is that?!
Noticing Tang San's wariness, Yu Xiaogang reached out and ruffled the boy's hair like a wise old mentor.
"You are incredibly talented and clever," he said, shaking his head with a knowing smile. "It seems I'll have to be a little more persistent. After all, you are only the third person in a hundred years to have twin martial souls."
Tang San's eyes widened.
Arthev, standing to the side, resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Bro, you just met the kid and already decided he has twin martial souls? Talk about confidence!"
Still, he had to admit—Yu Xiaogang was a master of bluffing.