Chapter 16: The So-called Hundred Seventy-Ninth Branch

The cabin door of the Jade ship stood wide open.

Qin Shu stepped inside.

He wasn’t the first to arrive.

Several people were already seated within the vessel, with two security guards stationed at the entrance.

One of them extended a hand, saying, “Please show your token.”

“Here you go.” Qin Shu presented the token he had received after registering earlier.

“Token for District Y-3, seat 196—your assigned location.”

“Thank you!”

Stepping through the doorway, he walked towards the interior, searching for his seat.

The ship was enormous; each district resembled a small auditorium capable of seating hundreds.

Seats were arranged in pairs, with an aisle running between every two rows.

Qin Shu’s seat was located in the central section.

As he gazed upon row after row of heads, he couldn’t help but think:

Bronze… That’s what most folks here are.

Heh heh, except me.

A hint of smugness crept into his eyes.

For now, he was the only one in his row.

Time passed slowly as more freshmen trickled into District Y-3, their chatter gradually filling the air.

In Qin Shu’s immediate vicinity—front, back, left, and right—all four seats were occupied by girls.

No, it would be more accurate to say that throughout District Y-3, there were far more girls than boys.

Males accounted for less than twenty percent of the crowd.

Noticing him looking around, the girl sitting to his left asked, “Do you feel like there are way too many girls?”

“Indeed,” Qin Shu nodded, then took the initiative to extend his hand. “Qin Shu, from Yangzhou City Sixth Middle School.”

“An Feng, from Yuhuai City Lanyu County First High School. Pleased to meet you!”

She was a beautiful girl with an innocent appearance. She reached out her hand and gently touched Qin Shu’s.

“I had suspected that more female students would awaken as wood attribute spiritual souls, but I didn’t expect it to be this significant,” Qin Shu remarked with a sigh.

“As you know, water and wood elements predominantly belong to us girls. However, for gold, fire, and earth elements, there are far more male students awakened than females.”

“That makes sense,” Qin Shu nodded in agreement.

“Oh right, do you think we’ll face anything unusual once we arrive at school?” An Feng asked, blinking her eyes curiously.

“What do you mean?” Qin Shu genuinely wasn’t aware; aside from the main campus of the God of War Academy, details about other branches were closely guarded secrets.

An Feng chuckled softly. “You’ll find out soon enough—it’s going to be quite a surprise.”

Her smile held a hint of mischief.

Qin Shu sensed this and said, “I feel like it might not be a pleasant surprise, but rather a shocking one instead.”

“Heh heh!” An Feng laughed without responding—her silence seemed to confirm his suspicion.

Yet, despite himself, Qin Shu found himself growing somewhat excited.

Before long, the ship began its ascent, climbing swiftly into the sky.

The powerful recoil struck like a thousand-pound force against their backs.

Yet for Qin Shu, it was surprisingly effortless.

An Feng, on the other hand, felt sick, his stomach churning as he tried to suppress the urge to vomit.

Soon, the ship entered its cruising phase.

“Phew, that was unbearable!” An Feng turned to look at Qin Shu, perplexed. “How can you not be affected at all?”

“I have a strong constitution,” Qin Shu replied with a smile. He found An Feng’s appearance quite appealing, wondering if perhaps it was time to find himself a girlfriend.

However, such matters were left to fate; who knew what awaited them after being assigned to different divisions?

Uncomfortable from the acceleration, District Y-3 fell silent. Most students had drifted off to sleep, seeking respite from the earlier turbulence.

An Feng leaned towards Qin Shu. “Mind if I borrow your shoulder for a nap?”

“Go ahead.” Qin Shu, of course, didn’t object. He felt An Feng’s head rest against him as he closed his eyes, breathing evenly.

The ship traveled swiftly, reaching its destination in just three hours before beginning to decelerate.

Deceleration happened rapidly too. Although less abrupt than acceleration, it still caused bodies to lurch forward involuntarily.

Those three hours passed tediously, most students remaining asleep throughout the journey.

One by one, seat belts tightened around each person due to inertia.

“Ah!”

“Holy crap!”

“This hurts!”

“What’s going on?”

Cries of alarm rose and fell.

“What happened?” An Feng stirred from his drowsy state, only to find Qin Shu’s arm around his shoulders.

“Sit tight,” Qin Shu said, slowly releasing his grip.

An Feng finally realized something was amiss and braced himself against the seat in front.

“Thanks!”

Qin Shu replied mildly, “No problem. We must be almost there.”

Noticing how composed Qin Shu remained seated, An Feng’s heart skipped a beat. He whispered, “You’re not just at Qi Refinement first stage, are you? In fact, you’ve surpassed all four initial stages, haven’t you?”

“Hush!” Qin Shu raised an index finger to his lips. “Don’t let anyone know.”

In truth, he didn’t mind if others guessed correctly about his cultivation level.

It never crossed anyone’s mind that he had already achieved Foundation Establishment—a milestone typically reached only by those with God-tier awakened spiritual souls, provided they trained under ideal conditions before starting school.

Yet here was Qin Shu, merely a Bronze ranker.

At most, others might assume him to be in the middle stages of Qi Refinement.

“I understand.” An Feng nodded, signaling his commitment to secrecy.

The ship finally stopped and began a straight descent.

First weightlessness, then hypergravity.

Inside, the freshmen felt like they were about to be played dead.

This academy was truly inhumane.

As the cabin door opened, an announcement came over the loudspeaker:

“All new students, immediately exit through the door.”

An Feng slowly stood up, feeling slightly unsteady on his legs. He reached out and grabbed Qin Shu’s arm. “Give me a hand here.”

Qin Shu looked around; most everyone seemed to be in the same boat.

He wrapped an arm around An Feng’s waist. “Sure thing.”

An Feng’s waist was soft and slender, with a pleasant feel—though Qin Shu remained perfectly proper.

Together, they stepped carefully out of the cabin.

In other seats as well, pairs helped each other outside.

Outside the door, the air was refreshingly crisp.

Looking around, there was no main gate. The overall layout of the 179th Branch School resembled a small town.

Rows of duplex villas stretched along the foot of the mountain, while several large buildings stood nearby. One by one, awakened beings emerged from their Qiankun pouches, pouring out spiritual grains for weighing.

“Is this what you meant by ‘surprise’?” Qin Shu turned to look at An Feng, genuinely surprised.

“I heard it from my sister,” An Feng said with a smile. “It’s actually not bad here. At least it’s less dangerous than other branches.”

Qin Shu knew why they were really there; it wasn’t to learn but to work as farmers.

A burly man led hundreds of teachers up to them. He looked at all the new students and said, “Look at you all—how can you call yourselves awakened beings? Can’t even handle this much physical activity?”

“Everyone, stand properly and straighten your backs.” His voice was so loud that it hurt their eardrums.

“I’m Yun Gang, head teacher of Farm Division 179. From now on, you’ll be under me and these other teachers’ supervision. We’re about to assign classes and then distribute tasks.”

“This is happening so fast!” Qin Shu glanced around; some people still hadn’t found their footing.

Then one by one, voices rang out:

“Students A1-01 through A1-50, please follow me.”

“Students A1-51 through A1-100, come with us.”

“Students A1-101 through A1-150, step forward.”

The group was quickly divided into two hundred teams of fifty people each, perfectly accommodating all ten thousand freshmen.

Naturally, Qin Shu and An Feng found themselves assigned to the same district.

Their headteacher—though whether he truly qualified as a “headteacher” was debatable—was an old man with graying hair and beard. He held a pipe in his hand, exhaling clouds of smoke.

His name was Liu Yubai, and his cultivation base was at the Golden Core stage.

“Are you all standing steady?” Liu Yubai asked mildly.

Without waiting for a response, he continued, “It doesn’t matter if you’re not standing steady; as long as you can move.”

As he spoke, he flung out one object after another—a token and a Qiankun pouch—for each freshman, landing them precisely before each student.

“These will serve as your identity proofs, as well as your means of transportation and cargo carrying from now on.”