Chapter 21: Auto Chess

Chapter 21: Auto Chess

But it was Zhou Hui's disciples who would be stepping up, not Zhou Hui himself.

How could everything be left to an old man who wanted to retire?

He wasn't like the Mei-Zhu couple, who'd had a son late in life to worry about—though Zhou Hui felt that any one of his little rascals was a hundred times more troublesome than other people's children.

But everyone must walk their own path, and he could only teach them to the best of his ability.

With that thought, Zhou Hui confirmed the time for the secret realm exploration.

It was set for a month later.

Perhaps due to Heaven's twisted sense of humor, that day was the seventh day of the seventh lunar month.

According to the conventions of the cultivation world, if the exploration went smoothly, this date would become the day for future secret realm trials among the Great Sects—the day the "Child of Destiny" and Mo Bei would first meet.

"Heh." Zhou Hui let out a cold laugh.

How disgusting.

But even if he wanted to just coast, his children were neither puppets nor willing actors.

In the past, with him keeping them in check, they weren't seasoned enough and could be manipulated into playing their parts obediently. But what if he toughened them up? Those brats wouldn't even listen to their master properly—he doubted they'd truly follow Heaven's script willingly.

Watching Heaven struggle to keep its plot on track was a fine pastime for retirement, wasn't it?

Zhou Hui looked out the window at the sky and calculated the course schedule:

"A month is enough."

*

The disciples of the Celestial Spirit Sect were certainly not puppets.

While the Immortal Venerable was still planning the lessons, some disciples were already planning to skip the first class.

"Cong, Yu Cong! Get up, we're going to be late for the open lecture!"

"...I'm not going."

Yu Cong burrowed deeper into his blankets: "I'm so tired. I just want to sleep."

Every sect had such disciples—those who feared no one's gaze, cared not for others' opinions, and just coasted at the very bottom of the sect, having made themselves so essential that no one could touch them.

Yu Cong was exactly that.

He had ranked last in the previous sect examination—not just in grades, but in attitude as well.

Yu Cong had slept through that exam, and even the sinking Coral Platform couldn't wake him up enough to try. He simply slept through the entire test in full view of the disciples and servants, making everyone say it was a shame he didn't train in body cultivation—his skin was thick as a city wall, no training needed.

In the Celestial Spirit Sect, which carried on the Tireless Immortal Venerable's spirit of hard work, Yu Cong was a true oddity.

Of course, Yu Cong didn't think so.

He thought he tried hard enough—but he was a Sword Cultivator!

As a sword cultivator, he only needed to master his swordsmanship. If not for the fact that he needed to read to understand cultivation techniques, Yu Cong felt he could do without reading entirely. Why the hell should he take exams?

Today was the same.

He had gotten up at the Hour of the Ox (1-3 AM) to practice his sword, returning soaked in dew, and was about to catch some extra sleep when he was pulled out of bed for an open lecture. Yu Cong saw no point in it at all.

Yu Cong's friend knew how he was and how to persuade him:

"This open lecture—the Tireless Immortal Venerable will definitely show up himself. Are you sure you're not going?"

Yu Cong reluctantly stuck his head out from the blankets.

To be honest, swordsmanship wasn't the Celestial Spirit Sect's specialty. Yu Cong, a sword cultivator, had chosen this sect purely because he admired the Tireless Immortal Venerable's might.

But in the face of sleep, even the Immortal Venerable had to take a back seat.

"But... it's just an open lecture. The Venerable probably won't talk about swordsmanship," Yu Cong analyzed with his limited brainpower. "It'll just be common cultivation methods and spells. Going or not, it's the same."

"That's not necessarily true. Think about our Lord Immortal Venerable's nature—he'll definitely keep track of who attended and who didn't," Yu Cong's friend said. "You don't want to be remembered by the Venerable that way—ah, with your grades, he might already have you on his radar!"

That remark completely jolted Yu Cong awake.

Bad grades on paper could be excused because he was a sword cultivator, but if he left the Venerable with the impression that he was lazy and disobedient, he'd be done for!

Yu Cong scrambled out of bed and straightened himself up.

Thanks to the newly built sundial clock, he saved travel time.

So, as the morning sun's shadow fell upon the disciples' dormitory area, Yu Cong and the others arrived at the Scripture Pavilion in an instant.

Strictly speaking, the Palace of Silence hadn't been renovated, so to accommodate everyone for a large lecture, they still had to use the Scripture Pavilion.

But this gathering wasn't in the main hall from last time—it was in the right tower of the Scripture Pavilion.

The renovated Scripture Pavilion was vast, and Yu Cong had never been here before.

—In fact, as a sword cultivator (again!), Yu Cong had never had any interest in the Scripture Pavilion.

His friend, however, let out a curious "Huh?" and said, "Why are we in the formation area?"

What area?

Yu Cong thought with disinterest—as long as it wasn't swordsmanship, it had nothing to do with him.

He shuffled along behind his friend like a sleepwalker, following when the other walked, sitting when the other sat, not even opening his eyes at Zhou Hui's voice:

"...I believe last time's exam has shown everyone the importance of learning, so I won't repeat those clichés. For most of you, formal classes haven't started yet, so for this open lecture, let's play a game..."

Yu Cong yawned.

He lazily whispered, "Am I dreaming? The Lord Immortal Venerable said 'game'?"

"You're not dreaming—it really is a game," his friend replied.

Definitely a dream!

Yu Cong let his consciousness sink deeper into the sweet darkness—falling completely asleep wouldn't do; if the Venerable saw that, it'd leave a bad impression—but the Venerable's warm, gentle, soothing voice was perfect for lulling one to sleep:

"...Let's play a game of chess. But since this is likely everyone's first time with this kind of chess, for the first round, we'll play with a standard lineup."

"First, I need a proper Spell Cultivator... Qian Xing."

"Then, a body cultivator... Yu Wen, you come—I know you're not a body cultivator, but with your recovery ability, you can easily double as one."

"Next, two support roles—oh, an Artifact Cultivator and an Alchemy Cultivator—Yezi, Shulong;"

"Next, we need a Sword Cultivator..."

Yu Cong's eyes snapped open.

"Did Lord Immortal Venerable just mention a Sword Cultivator?" Yu Cong asked the person beside him.

His friend, however, ignored him.

To be precise, all the disciples were now craning their necks, staring intently ahead, and no one was paying any attention to Yu Cong.

Yu Cong had no choice but to widen his eyes and see for himself.

He then realized that this class wasn't actually boring theory—it seemed to be some kind of "game."

At the front of the classroom sat a chessboard with several pieces on it. They weren't the Go pieces most popular among cultivators, nor chess pieces, but rather several lifelike little figurines.

On closer inspection, those pieces looked exactly like the inner disciples Zhou Hui had named in Yu Cong's dream: Qu Qianxing, Yu Wenxuan, Guan Ye, and Lu Shulong.

However, there was one blank piece on the black side of the board. Zhou Hui surveyed the group, then gave a pat on the shoulder of one of the youngest disciples, Mo Bei:

"Bei'er, you're up."

No one knew what Zhou Hui did, but the blank piece on the board morphed into a likeness of Mo Bei.

Zhou Hui nodded and said to everyone: "Next, I need an opponent—"

"Wait, Master, this isn't fair!" At that moment, Yu Wenxuan stepped forward eagerly. "Even for a teaching game, if the opponent is you, Master, isn't that a guaranteed loss?"

"In that case, have someone else play the teaching game!" Zhou Hui glanced at Yu Wenxuan, then looked away and said, "Ran Deng, you remember the rules I mentioned earlier, right? You'll handle the pieces."

"Yes." Ran Deng walked up to the chessboard.

"Third junior sister is a formation master; if I'm not mistaken, this game is related to formations, so she has an inherent advantage," Yu Wenxuan pressed on. "And the pieces! Forget the junior brothers and sisters—not to brag, but whoever gets my piece is guaranteed to win!"

"Then let's give this set of pieces to A Ran's opponent," Zhou Hui said to Ran Deng. "A Ran, is that okay?"

"Alright, Master." Ran Deng said, smiling at Yu Wenxuan. "Senior brother, are you going to face me with your 'guaranteed-win self'?"

"I won't bully junior sister," Yu Wenxuan laughed, then said. "Second junior brother, why don't you play the teaching game against third junior sister?"

"Huh?"

Qu Qianxing was clearly spacing out, and before he could react to Yu Wenxuan calling him out, he was shoved in front of the chessboard.

Qu Qianxing frowned and tried to step back: "I don't need to..." This senior brother—was he that eager to go hang from a tree again?

Unexpectedly, Zhou Hui seemed unusually tolerant of Yu Wenxuan today: "Fine, let's do it that way!" He looked at the chessboard. "But I need to find five suitable pieces for A Ran."

With that, Zhou Hui turned to the other disciples: "Who's willing to volunteer?"

The disciples were momentarily stunned; some hadn't reacted, others were sizing things up, but a few bold ones raised their hands high:

"Me!"

"Immortal Venerable, please choose me!"

Zhou Hui's gaze swept over a few disciples and finally settled on someone next to Yu Cong.

Yu Cong was startled, and only then realized that the person next to him had also raised a hand.

"Yan Fei, right?" Zhou Hui said to Yu Cong's friend, clearly remembering all the disciples' names and specialties. "I recall your swordsmanship is indeed impressive—are you planning to become a Sword Cultivator?"

"Yes!" Yan Fei said in a daze.

Yu Cong looked at Yan Fei with envy, kicking himself for not reacting sooner.

Zhou Hui didn't notice Yu Cong and simply handed a peachwood piece to Yan Fei: "You can give it your most skilled sword technique."

"Ah, my best is the third move of your self-created Flying Spirit Sword Technique, the Spirit Cloud Sword." Yan Fei said, his face turning red.

As he spoke, a piece appeared on the chessboard in front of Ran Deng—a tiny replica of Yan Fei.

The little figure struck a pose and shouted, "Spirit Cloud Sword!" It not only looked exactly like Yan Fei but also moved exactly the same way, even replicating his small habits when using the sword.

Yu Cong could even pick out Yan Fei's usual flaw.

"Wow!" The surrounding disciples gasped in amazement.

Yan Fei looked utterly mortified.

Yu Cong, however, felt envious. He wanted such a piece too, to show off before the Immortal Venerable.

Then it suddenly occurred to him—had those inner disciple pieces (the little figures) also demonstrated their techniques earlier? Yu Cong regretted even more that he'd fallen asleep at the start.

He wasn't the only one with that thought.

When Zhou Hui asked, "We have a Sword Cultivator, so what about a Body Cultivator?"

"Me!"

"Me, me, me!"

This time, nearly half the classroom's disciples raised their hands, making the Celestial Spirit Sect seem like a gathering spot for Body Cultivators—though, of course, many were just raising hands randomly; who wouldn't want to show off in front of the Immortal Venerable?

Zhou Hui quickly rounded up five pieces for Ran Deng.