Child, You Are the Pride of Great Xia

Facing the heartfelt gratitude and bows from his classmates, Su Qi merely waved his hand dismissively.

"Just a mutual exchange."

His tone was as casual as if he'd just solved a simple math problem, not a cultivation theory that had overturned everyone's worldview.

This effortless demeanor only deepened the awe in Liu Feiyu and the others.

To them, he was no longer just an ordinary senior.

But a trailblazer ahead of his time.

"Ahem!"

A deliberate cough cut through the fervent atmosphere in the classroom.

The balding teacher carefully tucked away his notebook and slowly walked over.

"Alright, that's it for today's theory class."

His gaze swept over Liu Feiyu, the burly young man, and the others.

His voice was low but firm: "What you've gained today—take it back and digest it properly. And remember, keep your mouths shut. If anyone blabs outside... even your elders might not be able to..."

He left the threat hanging, but the warning in his eyes was unmistakable.

He couldn't help it—he'd been young once too.

Young people loved to show off, to flaunt their achievements.

"Yes, teacher!"

The group responded in unison before quickly filing out of the classroom at the teacher's gesture.

In an instant, the once-bustling room was left with only Su Qi and the old centipede—er, the teacher.

Oh, and his sister, who had already dozed off in the back row.

Su Qi had warned her last night not to spar.

And now? Both sides had suffered.

She didn’t even have the energy to stay awake in class.

The last trace of pretense faded from the balding teacher's face.

His earlier act had been nothing more than a performance for the others.

Now, his expression turned deadly serious.

He stepped toward Su Qi, step by step.

An invisible pressure bore down from all directions, squeezing in on him.

This was the aura of a high-level expert—enough to unsettle the mind of an ordinary student.

Yet Su Qi remained seated calmly, as unshaken as a mountain breeze.

"Speak."

"Where did you learn this?"

His eyes locked onto Su Qi, searching for the slightest flicker in his expression.

Su Qi met his gaze without flinching.

"I didn't learn it."

"I came up with it myself."

Came up with it himself?

What a joke!

The application and theory of Essence had been refined over millennia by countless predecessors, tested through countless physical trials.

An entire system built upon sacrifice.

Every breath, every method of guidance—each held profound truths.

Later generations merely stood on the shoulders of giants, making minor optimizations within the framework.

Since ancient times, no one had ever dared claim they could conjure an entirely new theory—one that could overturn the very foundations!

"Do you even realize what you're saying?"

"This isn't funny. I need the truth."

He wasn't exaggerating.

Su Qi's reply remained calm.

He looked at the balding teacher and countered, "Am I guilty of something?"

The teacher fell silent.

No, not guilty.

But it defied reason.

His first thought upon hearing Su Qi's explanation was—

This method of Essence capture was insane!

Sheer heresy!

Yet the proof was undeniable—those nine students were living evidence...

He stared at Su Qi for a full minute, dumbfounded.

The young man before him was composed, his demeanor unassuming—just an ordinary student at a glance.

Finally, the teacher exhaled sharply, the oppressive aura vanishing in an instant.

A wry smile returned to his face as he dragged over a chair and collapsed into it, as if drained of all strength.

"My apologies. I overreacted."

"There have been... incidents like this before."

"Outsiders would disguise techniques obtained from their patrons, then plant them where some unsuspecting student might 'stumble upon them'—like an ancestral box or a patch of backyard soil."

"Making them believe it was their 'once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.'"

"The techniques themselves weren't flawed, but human physiology differs from theirs. By the mid-to-late stages, bizarre side effects would emerge."

"It cost Great Xia many promising talents, not to mention wasted resources and manpower."

"So even if your Essence Flow Construction Method shows potential, nearly 80% of people still doubt its viability."

Su Qi listened quietly.

He could tell the teacher wasn't deliberately giving him a hard time.

After all, without "cheating," something like this really shouldn’t be possible for someone his age.

The teacher's expression turned grave once more.

"Even so, you're certain you came up with this yourself?"

"We're all adults here. Words have consequences."

"I came up with it myself."

It wasn't stubbornness.

This really was a watered-down version derived from his own cultivation method.

Hearing this, the teacher nodded.

"Then I'll report this."

"Someone will contact you within three days."

"And that two-and-a-half-minute record of yours—don’t let it resurface. Ten minutes is your limit now. Understood?"

Su Qi nodded. "Understood."

Seeing his compliance, the teacher finally relaxed slightly.

He dismissed the barrier and hurried out of the classroom.

Su Qi didn’t linger either.

He walked to the back of the room.

In the corner, his foolish sister had claimed the "prime spot," fast asleep on her desk.

An open copy of Essence Fundamentals served as her pillow, a drop of drool glistening at the corner of her lips, trembling with each soft breath.

Unbelievable.

Su Qi flicked her smooth forehead lightly.

"Mmm..."

Liu Yuan mumbled incoherently, scrunching her nose before reluctantly peeling her drowsy eyes open.

She blinked in confusion at the empty classroom, slow to process.

"Huh? Brother? Class over?"

Su Qi smirked.

Wasn’t she the one who’d sworn that, as the first day of the semester, she wouldn’t sleep—to "save face" for the teacher?

Strict with others, lenient with herself, huh?

"Yep, class is over," he replied offhandedly.

Rubbing her eyes, still half-asleep, Liu Yuan yawned and stretched before finally shaking off the grogginess. She grabbed Su Qi’s arm and stood.

"Come on, next is combat training! I won’t fall asleep this time."

The two walked out side by side.

Suddenly, Liu Yuan gasped.

Su Qi glanced over.

His sister was waving her phone excitedly—the Magicard Academy’s dedicated app.

A bright red notification was displayed.

A poll on whether to cancel this morning’s combat training.

Only four had voted against it.

The rest? All in favor.

The curriculum at Magical Card Academy was intense, but who wouldn’t jump at the chance to steal a half-day of leisure?

Coupled with the matter of the Sourceflow Construction Method, many students had things weighing on their minds, so their study efficiency was likely far from optimal.

As for the combat instructor’s thoughts, they were even simpler.

The balding professor would undoubtedly waste a good chunk of class time on Su Qi’s incident.

By doing him a favor today, the instructor could rightfully reclaim that lost time later.

A win-win situation.

"Bro, where are we going now?" Liu Yuan swung Su Qi’s arm playfully.

"Going home," Su Qi replied succinctly.

……

The next eight days passed uneventfully.

The balding professor had said someone would contact Su Qi within three days.

But like a stone sinking into the ocean, no news ever came.

Su Qi didn’t dwell on it either. He attended classes as usual, left when they ended… or so it seemed.

In reality, he skipped whatever he could, and even the mandatory ones weren’t entirely safe.

Over those eight days, he attended a grand total of two lectures.

During that time, he further optimized the stripped-down version of the Sourceflow Construction Method.

But he proceeded with caution.

Su Qi had to ensure the improvements appeared more like a "stroke of inspiration" rather than the tip of a fully developed system.

Life seemed to return to its usual rhythm.

Yet, Su Qi knew better—this was merely the calm before the storm.

If no one reached out within three days, it could only mean one thing…

The matter was so significant that the procedures couldn’t be completed in such a short time.

Then, on the evening of the ninth day—

Su Qi returned home, a cup of milk tea in hand.

He stepped into the familiar alleyway.

Just as he was about to head upstairs, a voice—aged yet brimming with vigor—called out from the worn-out rattan chair downstairs.

"Little Su, care for a chat?"

Su Qi paused mid-step.

Under the large locust tree in the courtyard, Old Man Feng sat in his rattan chair, lazily fanning himself with that tattered palm-leaf fan of his.

Normally at this hour, the old man would either be dozing off or listening to some outdated opera on his radio.

For him to actively stop Su Qi like this was a first.

And his tone was off—no trace of his usual lethargic drawl.

Su Qi approached. "Looking for me, Old Feng?"

The old man didn’t answer immediately.

His cloudy eyes, usually dull, now resembled bottomless ancient wells as they scrutinized Su Qi.

Then, just as quickly, they softened back into their usual warmth.

"Little Su, don’t just stand there. Sit." He gestured to the small stone stool beside him with his fan.

Su Qi held out the milk tea. "Want some?"

Old Man Feng shook his head. "Can’t stomach that stuff. Last time, that girl from the Lin family brought me some ‘Snow King’ drink—claimed it was the most expensive milk tea. Tasted awful, nothing ‘premium’ about it."

Su Qi: "…"

That girl from last time?

Impressive…

Even fooling this old fox?

Well, at least it saved him a cup of tea.

Old Man Feng continued, fanning himself leisurely. "Heard you’ve been stirring up quite the commotion at the academy."

His tone was casual, as if discussing some trivial neighborhood gossip.

Su Qi didn’t respond, simply taking a seat in silence.

He knew this was just the opener.

"A brand-new theory on Source Essence capture, one that overturns foundational principles—all your own idea."

Su Qi neither confirmed nor denied it.

Instead, he stabbed the straw into his milk tea and began gulping it down noisily.

Old Man Feng’s eye twitched slightly.

Such a serious topic, and here you are, slurping away?

How carefree can you be?

"Little Su."

Old Man Feng finally set the fan down on the armrest of his chair.

He rose slowly, his hunched back straightening ever so slightly, his entire demeanor shifting.

No longer the drowsy old neighbor basking in the sun—now, he carried an air of authority.

"Some matters aren’t suited for discussion here."

"Come with me."

His tone was calm, leaving no room for refusal.

Su Qi didn’t ask where or why.

He simply nodded, placed the empty cup on the stone stool, and followed Old Man Feng without a word.

The two walked single-file out of the alley.

At the entrance, a sleek black car—devoid of any insignia—awaited them.

The vehicle sped through the streets before finally stopping in front of Magical Card Academy’s grandest administrative building.

This was Su Qi’s first time here.

Old Man Feng led him straight into a conference room.

When the doors swung open, two rows of five people each sat in solemn silence.

Only the seats at the head and opposite ends remained vacant.

Su Qi recognized very few faces, but two stood out.

The balding professor sat stiffly, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. When Old Man Feng entered, his expression grew even more uneasy.

The others maintained their composure.

Clearly, the balding professor was small fry here.

Beside him sat a stern-faced middle-aged man—likely the academy’s dean, if Su Qi’s memory served.

"Everyone, take your seats."

Old Man Feng strode to the head of the table and sat with the ease of one accustomed to command.

His gaze swept over the tense assembly before settling on Su Qi.

"Let me introduce myself. This old man is Feng Xingxia, holding an honorary position in Great Xia."

His words were modest.

But those who understood needed no further explanation, and those who didn’t—well, it wasn’t for them to know.

Feng Xingxia was one of the few living legends of Great Xia.

After the brief introduction, his focus returned to Su Qi, his expression grave.

"Young friend Su Qi, on behalf of Great Xia, I formally request—"

"That you share your Sourceflow Construction Method with our nation!"

Dead silence engulfed the room.

The balding professor’s jaw hung slack.

The academy dean’s chest rose and fell rapidly.

"Request."

"Share?"

The word choices were deliberate.

In situations like this, terms like "demand," "petition," or "surrender" were far more common.

As if sensing the need to drive the point home, Feng Xingxia dropped another bombshell.

"Should you agree, I pledge my personal reputation and standing to secure for you the highest-tier X-grade patent protection!"

Someone gasped audibly. "X-grade?!"

What did that entail?

Only technologies capable of altering Great Xia’s national destiny—strategic-level breakthroughs—earned such classification.

Every entry in that category was a national treasure.

If approved, Su Qi’s name would be etched forever into Great Xia’s history, immortalized alongside the nation’s glory.

"Additionally, you will receive a permanent ten percent royalty from all annual revenue generated by the Sourceflow Construction Method."

Feng Xingxia’s words struck like hammer blows, each syllable resonating through the room.

A meteoric rise?

No, this was warp-speed ascension!

All eyes locked onto Su Qi, anticipating his elation, his tearful gratitude.

Yet, his reaction once again left them stunned.

He showed no hunger for wealth, no yearning for the pinnacle of honor.

The young man fell silent for a moment, then cautiously raised his head. In his eyes, which usually carried a hint of indifference, there now shone a pure glimmer of hope and earnestness.

He looked at Feng Xingxia and asked softly,

"...I don't really understand patents, and I don’t care about them."

"But I’ve heard something about the Abyss..."

"I just want to ask... will this thing of mine make Great Xia better?"

"If it can, I’m willing to hand it over unconditionally."

At this moment, what flickered in his eyes wasn’t greed for wealth or pursuit of fame—it was the purest concern for his country.

Those simple words struck like an invisible but devastating blow, landing squarely on the most vulnerable part of Feng Xingxia’s heart.

This old man, who had weathered countless storms and hardened his resolve like steel, found his emotional defenses utterly shattered in an instant.

Tears streamed down his weathered face.

What a fine young man!

Faced with such immense temptation of fame and fortune, his first thought wasn’t for himself, nor even his family—but for his nation!

What integrity! What selflessness!

"Yes! Absolutely!" Feng Xingxia’s voice trembled with emotion. He thumped his chest, his clouded old eyes suddenly blazing with light.

"With your Sourceflow Construction Method, Great Xia’s overall strength will increase by at least 30% within three years! We can nurture more geniuses, more formidable talents! When facing those threats, far fewer lives will be lost—far, far fewer!"

The old man grew more impassioned as he spoke. He stood up, walked around the conference table, and approached Su Qi. His wrinkled, calloused hand came down heavily on Su Qi’s shoulder.

"My boy, you are Great Xia’s pride."

...

[Delight +666]

[Delight +666]

[Delight +666]

The numbers exploded wildly in Su Qi’s mind.

He really wanted to curse at this damn system.

Couldn’t it just jump by 60,000 at once?

Did it have to keep spamming 666?

If this kept up, he wouldn’t be able to keep his act together—holding back a smirk was exhausting, damn it!