Jing Brooks hurried along, walking nearly a mile before arriving at a small grove of trees. Only then did he turn around, smiling as he spoke, “I’ve already arranged the volunteer subsidy for you—there’s no janitorial work.”

　　His face was full of anticipation, looking as if he expected to be showered with gratitude.

　　“Thank you, Jing Brooks.” William Thompson stepped forward and bowed deeply. When he straightened up, his expression was solemn. “I actually think janitorial work is fine… as long as it’s not the outhouse. I wanted to say that last time, but you walked too fast.”

　　“Outhouse?” Jason Brooks was stunned at first, then burst out laughing. “How could that be? You’re an outstanding student in the Chen class—who would arrange such a thing for you?”

　　“Let’s hope so,” William Thompson nodded weakly, thinking, Is that really up to you?

　　“Classmate Thompson, your attitude is very disappointing to me,” Jing Brooks’s face darkened, clearly displeased. “I am your instructor, after all. I’ve gone to great lengths for your sake, running back and forth, and this is how you treat me?”

　　“It’s my fault,” William Thompson bowed deeply again, appearing very respectful on the surface, though he was still quite resentful inside and didn’t bother to hide it. “May I ask what kind of volunteer work it is?”

　　“You’ll be satisfied with this one,” Jason Brooks replied gruffly. “Library inspection—surely that’s good enough for you?”

　　Hiss—William Thompson drew in a sharp breath, his scalp tingling. “Librarian… are you serious?”

　　Seeing his shock, Jason Brooks couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. He lifted his chin slightly. “Is that good enough for you?”

Chapter 4: Cultivators Have Spiritual Fortune

　　Good enough for me? William Thompson felt as if ten thousand wild horses were stampeding through his chest.

　　This was a librarian! The most prestigious position in the Huaxia nation on Earth—bar none.

　　The creators of Daoism and the architects of Huaxia’s rise were all librarians.

　　William Thompson couldn’t help pressing his chest, afraid his heart might leap out, then forced a smile. “I thought it might be kitchen help.”

　　He meant it as a joke, but Jason Brooks took it seriously. His face darkened. “Kitchen help… how could that compare to library inspection?”

　　To be fair, kitchen help was a decent job—helping in the kitchen with picking, washing, chopping, and stir-frying vegetables. Although you couldn’t get in on the procurement (where the real perks were), you could eat as you pleased and even sneak some food back to your room. It was a top-notch, practical position.

　　If you didn’t have connections, don’t even think about getting a kitchen job.

　　But compared to library inspection, kitchen help was nothing.

　　Library inspection was a refined and prestigious job.

　　Kitchen help came with plenty of perks—there’s an old saying: “In a famine year, cooks never starve.” But the social status wasn’t high.

　　And in a famine, not many librarians would starve, either.

　　Not to mention, as a library inspector, you had access to a vast number of books. Students who wanted to borrow them faced monthly limits and had to pay.

　　That’s right—this academy charged for everything, and knowledge was no exception.

　　For some students, the meager volunteer subsidy for library inspection wasn’t even worth mentioning.

　　Once William Thompson realized this, he nodded decisively, a happy smile spreading across his face. “Of course I’m satisfied. Thank you so much, Jing Brooks.”

　　“No need to thank me,” Jason Brooks clasped his hands behind his back and spoke coolly. “I only helped because I see your potential. You should know, securing this position cost me a lot of effort.”

　　“I’m truly, truly grateful,” William Thompson grinned so widely his eyes became slits. “I’ll be sure to cultivate diligently and repay your kindness.”

　　“Mm.” Jing Brooks’s lips curled into a faint smile, then he stared intently at William Thompson, just standing there.

　　What, you want something? William Thompson stared back, his mind racing. The two of them locked eyes, neither speaking.

　　After a long moment, William Thompson slapped his forehead and said with a smile, “I get it—you want a commission, don’t you?”

　　This position was just too good. Jason Brooks was only an ordinary instructor; it couldn’t have been easy for him to secure it. So… since he’d put in the effort, it was only fair for him to expect something in return.

　　William Thompson was no naïve youth—he was well-versed in the ways of quid pro quo.

　　Jing Brooks’s eyes had been full of hope, but at these words, he glared and barked, “William Thompson, what kind of nonsense is in that head of yours at your age? I’m your teacher—how could I take your hard-earned money?”

　　“Then I’ve offended you—please forgive me, Instructor,” William Thompson quickly bowed and turned to leave. “It was petty of me to misjudge your intentions. I’m ashamed and will take my leave.”

　　“Hey… wait a minute!” Jason Brooks saw how quickly he was leaving, hesitated, and hurriedly called out, “I haven’t finished speaking!”

　　I knew it! William Thompson sighed inwardly, slowly turned back, and bowed again. “Please, Instructor, go ahead.”

　　Jing Brooks’s lips twitched twice. He glanced around, then spoke in a low voice, “On the day you reported in, you saved an inner dorm student… isn’t that right?”

　　“That’s right,” William Thompson nodded. “His name is Travis Sullivan… haha, that’s quite a name.”