After a while, he finally stopped.

“Alright, Little Brother, I admit that joke was quite amusing.” John Foster murmured a few times, repeating “rebirth,” shook his head, and laughed, “Little Brother, once your martial cultivation reaches the Embryo Nurturing Realm and you come into contact with the Embryo Shedding Realm, you’ll understand that in this world, there is simply no such thing as rebirth.”

Seeing that William Foster still wanted to say something, John Foster’s expression turned serious, and he solemnly said, “Little Brother, say no more. I promise you, I won’t go to the Northern Di. But you must also promise me that after I leave, you’ll take good care of mother.”

“Mm, Big Brother, don’t worry.” Big Brother didn’t believe the “truth” he had just spoken, but for some reason, William Foster actually felt relieved. He told himself, as long as Big Brother promises not to go to the Northern Di, that’s enough.

“The Wild Ox Fist—I have nothing more to teach you. Before I leave, I want to pass on to you our Fang family’s ‘Eight Forms of the Left Azure Dragon’s Claw.’ Back then, father relied on this supreme art to earn his title of marquis. Father passed it to me, and now I, on his behalf, will pass it to you. Watch carefully.”

William Foster’s heart was shaken. He had long heard the name of this supreme art. Although it was a family secret, in his previous life, because he had no interest in martial arts, he had never seen it.

In the pavilion, lanterns were lit everywhere. In the glow of the lamps, John Foster demonstrated to William Foster the Fang family’s “Eight Forms of the Left Azure Dragon’s Claw,” one by one. John Foster taught with dedication, and William Foster learned with focus. By the time the set was finished, it was nearly midnight.

“Our Fang family’s Eight Forms of the Left Azure Dragon’s Claw is an offensive supreme art, a method that uses true qi and gang qi to attack. The higher your cultivation, the greater its power. Right now, I can only condense a gang qi dragon about ten zhang long. In father’s hands, he can manifest a giant dragon dozens of li long, able to breathe fire and water, soar through clouds and mist, capable of anything. This is why father can suppress the barbarian tribes. After I leave, you must practice even harder. Once you’ve mastered this art, if you get the chance, you can go to father and obtain the ‘Eight Forms of the Right Azure Dragon’s Claw.’ These two arts complement each other. Once mastered, their power is immense—no god or Buddha can stand in your way!”

“I’ll do my best,” William Foster replied.

“Good, then I’ll be off. Take good care of yourself, and mother as well.” John Foster smiled and waved to William Foster.

As his words fell, John Foster stood up, looked up at the bright moon in the night sky, and with a light push of his foot, soared into the air.

Roar!

A clear dragon’s roar echoed from the Purple Dragon Garden. Under William Foster’s gaze, John Foster suddenly leapt up, and in midair, transformed into a more than ten-zhang-long azure dragon. Lightning crackled all around the dragon’s body. It circled once above the pavilion where William Foster sat, then suddenly shot eastward, vanishing into the vast night.

In the Great Zhou dynasty, all sons of nobility, upon reaching the age of ten, had to be sent to the Academy.

The so-called Academy was a place where the court’s civil officials taught the Confucian virtues of filial piety, brotherhood, loyalty, righteousness, propriety, and trustworthiness—only literature was taught, not martial arts. The entire Academy was overseen by the Grand Tutor of the court.

The Grand Tutor was one of the Three Excellencies, and also the current emperor’s literary mentor. His students were spread across the eighteen provinces of the Nine Continents. Of the twenty-seven ministers and eighty-one scholars in the court, nearly half were his students or had attended his lectures. With such overwhelming power, even someone like the Marquis of Pingding dared not offend him lightly.

William Foster rode out in a carriage, and only arrived at the Academy after half an hour. The grand Academy stood at the northwest corner of the capital, facing the imperial palace. Sitting in the carriage, William Foster lifted a corner of the curtain and saw countless carriages, each bearing their family’s banners, crowding the Academy’s entrance so tightly that not even water could pass through.

“Let’s stop the carriage here,” William Foster said to the driver, then stepped out of the carriage.

William Foster could almost picture the Academy’s layout with his eyes closed. In his “previous life,” he had spent more than ten years here. From the grand carved railings and jade columns to the smallest flowers and trees, he knew every detail by heart.

“Little Marquis!” Several officials’ sons saw William Foster, their faces flashing with fear. They lowered their heads and greeted him, obediently stepping aside. The incident of John Foster breaking into the Academy with David Harris and James Thompson had already spread throughout the school. For many, it was the first time they realized William Foster had such a formidable elder brother. Some students, seeing William Foster, looked at him with disdain and kept their distance.

William Foster knew well that these people were all from David Harris and James Thompson’s faction. He didn’t care, and walked into the Academy along a white jade path with a carefree expression.

The Great Zhou dynasty was at the height of its civil and military power. In its thousand-year history, it had produced countless nobles and aristocrats. This also created the bustling scene before William Foster’s eyes. The students of Great Zhou gathered in groups of three or five, laughing and chatting—each group forming its own faction.

Walking among the crowd, William Foster heard all kinds of voices. In his previous life, he had devoted himself to literature, so hearing these sounds again now felt somewhat familiar.

“William Foster, in your previous life, you studied Confucian texts your whole life, but in the end, you were just a scholar with no strength to truss a chicken. You watched your family fall apart and were powerless to help. This has already happened once—do you really want it to happen again?” Sensing this emotion, William Foster silently warned himself. Doing something for a long time inevitably leaves its mark.