The meeting finally ended. I thought ancient cultivators would be good at talking fast — turns out they were just good at talking forever.
Grandpa Yun Tie yawned as we stepped out into the sunlit courtyard. "You did well, Feiyang," he said proudly, giving me a hearty pat that almost launched me into orbit. "You handled those old fossils better than I ever could."
"I just said what they wanted to hear," I replied, rubbing my back. "Which was nothing. They seemed to like nothing."
Grandpa laughed, beard shaking. "That's the key to diplomacy! Say nothing with confidence."
Before I could reply, a small voice piped up behind us."U-um… you… hey…!"
I turned lazily. There she was — the little alchemist from earlier, clutching her herb basket like it held her courage.
"Oh, you're the… disciple, huh," I said, pretending to remember.
"Y-yes, sir! When will you… teach me?"
I squinted like a wise hermit from a cheap drama. "Listen carefully, disciple. No student should rush a teacher. And—call me 'sir.'"
"S-sir! When will you be free for teaching then?"
I yawned dramatically. "Ugh. Busy right now. We'll start tomorrow morning. Maybe."
"Yes, sir!" she chirped, practically glowing. Then she skipped away.
[Why did they even leave a six-year-old to teach another six-year-old?] Z asked, his tone dripping disbelief.
"Because they were impressed by my genius, obviously."
[Or desperate for a babysitter.]
"Same difference."
I stretched, cracked my neck, and sighed. "Anyway, time to do those sword forms. Gotta finish the daily task."
[Unbelievable. You're more consistent with System tasks than actual work.]
"That's because System work can be done with style."
I stepped into the courtyard, the crisp air cutting through the hum of spiritual energy. Drawing my wooden practice sword, I began moving through the Thirteen Forms of the Sword God's Book — slow, graceful arcs slicing through sunlight.
[Your posture's actually good,] Z admitted.
"Of course. I'm lazy, not talentless."
Two faint auras stirred behind the door — watching. A whisper of curiosity and a flicker of judgment. I smirked inwardly.
"I can sense them, Z."
[Dan Qinger and another girl. Red hair and white hair. Want me to chase them away?]
"Nah. Let them watch. Free audience equals free reputation."
[You're addicted.]
"I call it passive income."
Hours later, I sheathed my sword, the system chiming completion.[Task Complete. +1 Level, +300 Reputation.]
Z: [You really are hungry, huh.]Me: "For naps and fame? Always."
As I walked back, faint voices carried from the alchemy courtyard.
"Another failure," came a small, frustrated tone — Dan Qinger. "If I keep failing, Father will scold me again."
"Don't worry," said a calm, frosty voice — the white-haired girl beside her. "You'll get there eventually."
Qinger sighed. "Father even asked that young master to help me…"
The white-haired girl snorted. "Isn't that the lazy one? He looks like he might drop dead any second."
My eyebrow twitched.
"But… he's kind of good-looking," Qinger added shyly.
Mood restored. I stood there, feeling smug and offended at the same time.
Then Qinger's words cut deeper than any blade:"Father said it's also a test for that young master — to see if the Yun Clan's fame is fake."
"Ohhh… so that's the case, huh." I turned away with a wicked grin. "Z."
[Yes, sir.]
"Buy every alchemy manual a 10 to 15-year-old prodigy could master. Right now."
[You're taking this personally.]
"No. I'm taking it professionally."
[That's exactly what a petty man says.]
"Those old coots want proof? I'll give them proof… while sleeping."
The Next Morning
Dream: roasted duck, golden buns, and the faint sound of someone screaming my title.
"SIRRRRRR!"
I shot up, hair in chaos. "Who—what—where's the fire!?"
Dan Qinger stood at the foot of my bed, puffing her cheeks. "You said you'd teach me today!"
"Oh right… that did happen yesterday, huh?"
She pouted. "It's already midday, sir! How much do you sleep? Don't you need to cultivate?"
"Oh, right. Normal people do that here." I waved lazily. "I have Auto-Cultivation."
[Excuse me?! You have me, not Auto-Cultivation!] Z protested.
"Same thing," I said aloud.
"Auto what?" Qinger asked, tilting her head.
"Never mind. Come, let's find somewhere warm so I can—uh—teach you."
As I stood up, she squeaked, eyes wide. "Kyaaa!"
I blinked. "What now?"
She pointed at my pants. "Y-your… bump…"
"Oh, that. Morning spiritual energy, my lady. Happens to geniuses."
Her face went red enough to power a furnace.
[You're impossible,] Z muttered. [Why are you even doing this? The payment you're getting could buy a mansion from the Shop.]
"You don't get it," I said, striding toward the gardens. "When people hear the Dan Clan's heiress was taught alchemy by a sword cultivator at age six—my fame skyrockets."
[Ah, the reputation long game.]
"Exactly. The lazy always think long-term."
[So how exactly are you teaching her?]
"Not me. You."
[What.]
"I bought a Substitute Ticket — for hands and mouth control. You do the teaching while I sleep."
[You made me buy all those alchemy manuals for this!?]
"Of course. You still don't understand my Dao, do you, Z?"
[Unfortunately, I understand it too well.]
We reached a tranquil garden surrounded by glowing herb fields. Birds sang. Spirit mist shimmered. The perfect classroom… for a nap.
"So," I said, already eyeing the grass. "What do you know?"
"I know up to the basics of pill formation," she said nervously.
"Ah, so you're still a flint in the fire."
She blinked. "W-what?"
"Don't worry about it. Sit there. Watch and learn."
Then I collapsed onto the grass and fell asleep.
The "Lesson"
My body moved.
Z had taken over. My lips spoke, calm and assured: "First, balance the fire essence with the herb's core. Visualize the spirit flow as circular, not linear."
Dan Qinger gasped. "Sir! Your control is perfect!"
"Of course," Z said through me. "Mastery is about rhythm."
She asked question after question — and "I" answered every one. To her, it was divine guidance. To me, it was a nap with benefits.
[This is ridiculous,] Z muttered mid-lesson."Shhh," I whispered in my dream. "Teacher's working."
Hours passed. When I woke, the sun had shifted and Qinger was still diligently refining herbs.
"Oh wow, look at the time," I said, stretching. "Lesson's over. Food?"
"Yes, sir!" she said, eyes sparkling with admiration.
We went to the dining hall. I ate like a starving immortal while she stared in disbelief.
"You… eat so much, sir."
"It's all part of cultivation. Digesting heaven's essence requires fuel."
[You're digesting dumplings, not heaven.]
"Same energy signature," I murmured between bites.
Qinger giggled softly. He really is a genius, she thought. Weird habits… but incredible skill.
Across the hall, white-haired Lei Xuemei watched silently from behind a pillar, eyes narrowing. "So that's the so-called prodigy…"
Afterward, I waved lazily. "Come a little later tomorrow, Qinger. I need time to… cultivate."
"Yes, sir! I'll prepare everything!" she said brightly, bowing before hurrying off.
"Prepare," I muttered. "Man, the sun's nice today."
[So no thank you, huh?]
"Oh, come on. You're the best assistant ever."
[Hmm. That's better.]
Z's tone softened. [By the way, she's smart. I taught her a few basics, but her issue's practical control. Not theory.]
"Good. Tomorrow, make her practice until she glows. Day after that, we'll do practicals."
[You mean I'll do practicals while you sleep again.]
"Details, details."
I flopped onto my bed, pulling the blanket over my head. "All that hard work… maybe I'll take a nap."
[You did nothing.]
"Exactly."
And thus ended the first lesson of the Slumbering Dragon's Alchemy Class — taught entirely by a sleeping teacher.