Chapter 245 – A Small Incident Before the Banquet

“My apologies, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Shang Bai. Due to differing interests, I enjoy reading extensively and have some modest understanding of the Book of Songs. Thus, I’ve been affectionately dubbed ‘Little Poetry Immortal’ by everyone.”

Hearing this, Ye Kuang couldn’t help but momentarily space out, as an objective understanding of the term “Poetry Immortal” suddenly surfaced in his mind.

Those with unparalleled martial skills, reaching the pinnacle of mastery, could be called “Martial Immortals.”

Indeed, poetry also contains its own golden house!

Poetry intoxicates without clouding the heart; if the heart becomes intoxicated, one becomes naturally drunk. It is a profound and time-honored cultural accumulation, encompassing human relationships, worldly wisdom, vast knowledge, ethical principles, moral ideologies… It remarkably embraces all things. Not only does it serve as a bridge between past and future generations, but it also allows individuals to comprehend different philosophies of life based on their own perspectives. Only such can be called a Poetry Immortal!

At this thought, a gleam flashed in Ye Kuang’s eyes, his brows furrowing tightly as he asked with clear puzzlement, “Do you need something from me?”

“How strange, how strange,” Shang Bai muttered to himself, evidently filled with doubt.

The reason was that Ye Kuang’s current attitude was completely different from before. If Shang Bai hadn’t witnessed and heard it himself, anyone would think Ye Kuang was feigning ignorance.

Just like one of the “Thirty-Six Stratagems”—fear not the enemy’s strength, but beware of feigning illness to deceive the enemy, playing the fool to catch the tiger off guard.

Little did he know, this was also because, after the previous incident, Ye Kuang’s true self-awareness could occasionally exert a subtle influence on him.

Shang Bai: “I must admit, pardon my poor eyesight. May I ask for your name, friend?”

Hearing this, Ye Kuang couldn’t help but scratch his head, only able to state a fact.

“My sister gave me a name. She said I’m obsessed with martial arts to the point of madness, so she always calls me Wu Kuang.”

“Wu Kuang?”

“Yes.”

Shang Bai murmured for a moment, then suddenly found the name somewhat familiar. With a start, he gravely realized that Ye Kuang was actually that forbidden existence who had fought with Martial Uncle!

Here, it must be mentioned that the name “Wu Kuang” was only bestowed upon Ye Kuang after the Three Venerables reached a unanimous decision.

Seeing this person lost in thought, Ye Kuang couldn’t help but feel bored and said, “If you have nothing else, I’ll be on my way.”

No sooner had he spoken than he turned to bypass Shang Bai and continued forward.

Shang Bai: “Wait.”

Hearing this, Ye Kuang stopped again and asked doubtfully, “Is there something else?”

As he spoke, his eyes were fixed on the other’s every move. In his mind, no one would approach without reason just to strike up a conversation.

Shang Bai pondered again and again before finally stating his purpose: “In five days, Qian Dao Academy will host a banquet. Senior Brother Qing Ge has invited all junior brothers from the three great academies to attend. Given that you, friend, are both brave and resourceful, I presume you wouldn’t refuse to show face.”

Hearing this, Ye Kuang’s brows tightened, but he continued walking forward without turning his head. Surprisingly, he neither refused nor directly agreed.

Instead, Shang Bai watched the receding figure of a certain “Kuang” and then revealed a playful smile, murmuring to himself, “Good looks are all alike, but I never thought an interesting soul would be one in a million.”

Yet as soon as the words fell, Shang Bai’s figure leaped and vanished in the blink of an eye at the edge of the forest.

Half an hour later.

Ye Kuang once again kicked the wooden door open, startling all the students present.

When it came to arrogance and recklessness, he was likely the only one in this place.Even the faction led by Senior Brother Xiao, with whom he had clashed last night, had now lowered their banners and silenced their drums over this matter.

It could be said that Ye Kuang’s current entanglement with the Eldest Senior Sister of Kun Dao Academy was a dangerous signal to them.

The elderly lecturer, as if already aware of the situation, could only turn a blind eye to this troublesome character and said, “Since you’re back, take a seat.”

Ye Kuang: “Alright.”

At that moment, the entire academy hall fell into an eerily profound silence.

Only the lecturer’s voice continued unhurriedly: “As everyone knows, millennia of progress and regression have led to the near-extinction of martial studies in this world, stripping them of their former glory. After enduring countless hardships, those who truly comprehend the Martial Realm have dwindled, which ultimately led to the founding of Kunlun’s Three Academies.”

As his words faded, the elderly lecturer suddenly posed a question: “As students of this generation’s Yuandao Academy, you are fortunate, yet also unfortunate.”

Hearing this, Senior Brother Xiao, Xiao Mowan, couldn’t help but voice the shared confusion: “Venerable One, may I ask why you say so?”

The elderly lecturer glanced across the students in the hall, sighed softly, and explained: “Since everyone wishes to know the answer, I shall not hold back.”

Pausing deliberately, he continued: “To maintain the heart for martial cultivation is undoubtedly rare—this is your fortune, for you inherit a cultural legacy. As for the misfortune…”

Before he could finish, the lecturer fell into deep contemplation, clearly uncertain whether to proceed.

Instead, a voice suddenly emerged from the back row.

It was none other than Ye Kuang!

“Perhaps it’s because martial studies have suffered a severe rupture, causing the loss of numerous cultural treasures within. The scarcity of those skilled in martial arts directly impacts the inheritance, which now lacks original innovation and the ability to mend the gaps left by generational discontinuities.”

As his words gradually faded, the hall inevitably sank into silence.

This silence, however, spoke louder than words.

Hearing this, the elderly lecturer couldn’t help but glance toward the back with slight surprise, then revealed a trace of satisfaction before concluding: “Though Wu Kuang’s words may not be entirely accurate, they warrant deep reflection.” The misfortune I speak of lies precisely in this: if you wish to carry this legacy forward, you must uphold a humble heart and a martial spirit, continuing the relay.”

His statement stirred the room like a stone casting ripples across a pond.

Clearly, each person was lost in their own thoughts, their fighting spirit fluctuating—perhaps this is the innate talent inherent in every mortal.

The world may witness waxing and waning, but this intangible belief ceaselessly integrates into the bloodline of those who pass the torch.

Just then, the elderly lecturer tapped his bamboo scroll.

“Tap, tap, tap…”

Amidst these respectable and intoxicating sounds, everyone inevitably felt a sense of lingering fascination.

Before leaving, the lecturer called out to Ye Kuang, saying, “Young fellow, find some time for a chat.”

Ye Kuang, upon hearing this, grinned foolishly and replied, “Alright.”

With that, he abruptly fled as if escaping, vanishing without a trace.

Leaving the elderly lecturer alone to chuckle wryly to himself.

When Ye Kuang arrived at another academy hall, he suddenly felt his eyes brighten.