Twisted Dreams

Teaching building, Grade One, Class Eight.

The classroom’s appearance doesn’t differ much from other classes.

But peering in through the window, a peculiar atmosphere emerges.

The places on the walls originally for displaying excellent assignments and honor certificates are covered with crooked graffiti.

Desks are scattered haphazardly, as if each piece of furniture has its own idea, occupying space at will.

The students appear to be in a state of indifference.

Some are snoring away, drool hanging from the corners of their mouths.

Some are gaming, shouting occasionally: "Grab the dragon!"

A few girls are playing with their phones and looking in the mirror, thinking about where to hang out tonight.

The teacher of traditional Chinese studies on the podium helplessly gazes at the students below, with a hint of fatigue and disappointment in his eyes.

Despite raising his voice and using various methods to capture the students’ attention, he only receives indifference in return.

Reasonably speaking, not even a negligible student from the most ordinary university should witness such a scene.

The teacher stands at the podium without receiving the slightest respect.

It’s simply because the students in this class are special.

They all have good family backgrounds; in other words, they’re little tycoons, second-generation wealthy kids.

These wealthy kids aren’t just rich; more crucially, they have excellent cultivation talents.

In high school, their grades were abysmal, even described as small hoodlums, little bad girls, definitely the spoiled brats.

Yet particularly, they are quite sensitive to Spiritual Power.

Ordinary universities, especially top-tier ones like Imperial Capital Foreign Language University, wouldn’t admit them.

Their college entrance exam scores weren’t even a fraction of what’s needed for Imperial Capital Foreign Language University.

The Guardian Dao Academy accepted them.

Not because it cherishes cultivation talents, nor because its tolerance is strong enough.

Once, during a meeting with the school’s leadership, many leaders didn’t want to accept these students, but Li Tufang pushed through the opposition and admitted these spoiled brats.

Li Tufang once said:

"If we let these students go with the flow, under the backdrop of Spiritual Energy Revival, they might get exploited by villains or become villains themselves.

An Extraordinary villain with a strong family background would surely give society unimaginable trouble.

With one more Class Eight, Mang Mountain Special Prison could have a few less cells."

And so, Class Eight was established.

Liu Lingwei looked at Li Yang apologetically:

"Mr. Li, this is Class Eight.

If you don’t like it, I’ll talk to the Dean."

Liu Quan also looked at Li Yang mockingly at this moment:

"The Dean is very resolute; his decisions are hard to change."

He sneered inside: Taking over Class Eight is your bad luck.

You can’t beat or scold the students here; they’ve been spoiled rotten by their families.

If you upset these students, they might retaliate against you.

Li Yang shook his head:

"No need, it’s fine."

He didn’t originally plan to stay here for long.

Agreeing to teach here was only because Li Yang wanted to know what Li Tufang was up to.

’Ding, ding, ding...’

The dismissal bell rang, and the traditional Chinese studies teacher left the classroom dejectedly with his textbook.

University courses generally consist of two major lectures in the morning, with a twenty to thirty-minute break after the first lecture.

Many students who don’t eat breakfast go to the cafeteria at this time.

As the students left the classroom, they saw the three of them.

A male student greeted Liu Quan cheekily:

"Yo, Brother Quan, are you teaching us today?"

Liu Quan felt quite esteemed.

The universally recognized hardest-to-discipline Class Eight had students actively greeting him, providing face in front of the goddess Liu Lingwei.

Liu Quan chuckled:

"No, this Mr. Li is your martial arts class teacher."

Some students glanced at Li Yang with surprise.

It was just a glance of astonishment, with no respect, as if they were viewing animals in a zoo.

"Brother Quan, are you with Teacher Liu today? Do you have something going on?"

A student asked mischievously with a smirk.

Liu Quan had been chasing Liu Lingwei for some time now.

The students gave Liu Quan some respect, mainly because he could brag, using non-existent magical experiences to fool some students.

Combined with Liu Quan’s status as a candidate elder of the Talisman Sect, these students thought Liu Quan was quite impressive.

Liu Lingwei frowned, glanced at Li Yang.

She had no interest in Liu Quan.

Seeing Liu Lingwei’s expression, Liu Quan grew jealous, and after thinking quickly, he said:

"Teacher Liu, Teacher Li, you’ve seen it; these students are difficult.

How about I join this class to assist? If students act up, I can help address it."

Liu Lingwei thought for a moment:

"Alright, thank you, Teacher Liu."

Liu Quan, wanting to show gentlemanly behavior in front of Liu Lingwei, extended his hand to Li Yang again:

"Don’t worry, Teacher Li, I’ll help guide them."

Unexpectedly, Li Yang ignored him, walked straight into the classroom, and continued to read the school history.

Liu Quan froze for a moment, helplessly gesturing to Liu Lingwei.

As if to say, look at this guy, with no manners at all.

Liu Lingwei pursed her lips and said:

"Teacher Liu, you must coordinate well with him, make sure Mr. Li isn’t wronged."

Liu Quan was stunned.

In his eyes, Liu Lingwei’s actions seemed to protect her little romantic interest.

Liu Quan’s eyes turned sullen:

"Rest assured, he won’t be wronged."

His jealousy was significant; he couldn’t figure out what Liu Lingwei saw in Li Yang.

To be a martial arts teacher for Class Eight, he must either be an ordinary Loose Cultivator without money or power or someone being sidelined by Dean Li.

Liu Lingwei nodded, turned around, and left, muttering:

"I wonder what the Dean is thinking."

Liu Quan’s face grew increasingly grim, quietly whispering where no one could hear:

"I’ll take good care of this kid."

...

The class bell rang.

The students returned from outside, sat in their seats, and curiously watched Li Yang for a while.

As if they were watching monkeys in a zoo.

Li Yang acted differently than the other teachers.

Other teachers either strictly reprimanded them to take out their books or pretended to be friendly, trying to befriend them.

But Li Yang was simply sitting at the lectern reading, his gaze not even on the students.

Could this be a new trick?

Minutes passed, and Li Yang still hadn’t spoken a word.

The students lost interest and began doing their own things under the podium.

Chatting, gaming.

As an observer, Liu Quan frowned.

It seems Li Yang intends to give up entirely, not even planning to lecture these students.

Honestly, Li Yang’s approach is quite effective.

By not taking responsibility for teaching, he naturally avoids student resentment, and naturally, there’s no face-losing or feeling wronged.

Liu Quan couldn’t let such a comfortable situation fall into Li Yang’s lap.

Liu Quan’s eyes shifted, and he beckoned a student over:

"Class monitor, come here."

The student, dressed and exuding the vibe of a spoiled brat, immediately leaned over and nodded mischievously after listening to Liu Quan’s whisper.

Suddenly, the class monitor raised his hand:

"Seriously, teacher, it’s been twenty minutes, and you haven’t said anything. I’m going to file a complaint with the school authorities!"

Liu Quan said earnestly:

"Mr. Li, you’re here to teach, not slack off.

Since the students wish to hear something, it’s better to talk a bit.

Even if you’re new and unsure how to teach, sharing some of your extraordinary experiences would be good."

Li Yang, holding his book, glanced across the students without expression:

"Shut up, quiet down."

The class monitor, provoked by Li Yang’s disdainful look, stood up angrily:

"Do you know who you’re talking to! Do you know who my dad is?"

Li Yang snapped his fingers.

The class monitor felt something grabbing his ankle.

He looked down, and instantly his soul left him, letting out a woman’s scream:

"Ah!!!!"

An undead with a terrifying face, empty eyes, was crawling out from the magic circle, grabbing the class monitor’s foot.