“When you have some free time, bring him to see me… never mind, just introduce him to me,” Jason Brooks originally wanted to maintain the air of a professor, but seeing the shrewdness in the young man before him, he couldn’t be bothered to beat around the bush.

Ah, you want to meet the Autobot? William Thompson was once again taken aback. He didn’t know much about Travis Sullivan, just that the name itself was enough for him to poke fun at. “I’m just an outer dorm student.”

The students of this academy are also divided into levels—not by first or second year, but into three stages: outer dorm students, inner dorm students, and upper dorm students.

These three stages also correspond to three academic years. The fastest can finish in three years; if slower, as long as it doesn’t exceed five years, it’s still considered a successful completion. If it takes more than five years, they’ll be forcibly dismissed.

Take Travis Sullivan, who attempted suicide—he couldn’t advance from inner dorm to upper dorm, so he jumped off a building.

“You’re his savior, and he almost got you killed too,” Jason Brooks said blandly. “Just help introduce him. He’ll definitely give you that much respect.”

“Alright,” William Thompson thought for a moment and nodded, but his curiosity was piqued. “Professor, what’s so special about this person? You actually…”

Jing Brooks realized he’d definitely be asked, so he answered without hesitation, “He… is connected to the Daoist Palace, you get it?”

“Daoist Palace spiritual cultivator?” William Thompson first frowned, then suddenly understood and nodded. “Got it.”

No wonder you don’t want a commission. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth: I knew it, when is a cat ever not curious?

Daoist Palace spiritual cultivation is different from the official fortune cultivation. Students here, besides tempering themselves, mostly learn combat skills, but ultimately must undergo the baptism of fortune to effectively improve their cultivation. This is also the cornerstone of official rule.

But the Daoist Palace cultivates the Heavenly Dao, with spiritual energy enhancement as the foundation, emphasizing personal courage and progress. What they value most are all kinds of rare treasures; as for fortune, they don’t care much for those resources.

Fortune might be tied to a nation or even a world. Without these fundamentals, fortune cultivation isn’t anything special.

Daoist Palace spiritual cultivators rarely appear in the mortal world, but when they do, mortal officials always fawn over them—spiritual cultivators look down on fortune cultivation methods, but fortune cultivators highly covet the methods of spiritual cultivators.

Seeing the smile at the corner of William Thompson’s mouth, Jason Brooks felt a bit embarrassed and couldn’t help but cough. “As long as you know, don’t spread it around… I’ve always valued your talent and found you a good job. This little request isn’t too much, is it?”

“Not at all,” William Thompson burst out laughing. “But in the end, it’s still about exchanging benefits.”

“You brat, so arrogant!” Jing Brooks rolled his eyes at him and turned to leave.

My homeroom teacher is way too cautious, William Thompson thought, spreading his hands, finding it a bit amusing.

In fact, he was not at all unfamiliar with the Daoist Palace. The Wind Observer was originally a spiritual cultivator from the upper realm, and now he was walking the dual path of fortune and spiritual cultivation—fortune cultivation as the surface, spiritual cultivation as the foundation.

At last, he could finally make contact with spiritual cultivators of this world. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, but… there was no need to rush.

The next day, he went to find Travis Sullivan.

When the Autobot jumped off the building, although his fall turned into a glide, he was still badly injured, with several broken bones. The fact that he could get up and run at the time was purely due to a surge of blood and energy; now he was lying in bed recovering.

But such injuries are nothing to a cultivator. As long as there are good medicinal pills, recovery is quick.

William Thompson brought some external medicine to visit him—this is just how social interactions work, even if the injured person was someone he had saved.

Travis Sullivan’s attitude was a bit odd. On the surface, he was very grateful and apologized for the harm he’d caused, even saying he’d compensate him with some nutrition money—“I know you’re not exactly wealthy.”

But for some reason, William Thompson always felt there was an indescribable coldness between them—as if he was being kept at arm’s length.

In this situation, he found it hard to bring up the topic, so after chatting for a while, he asked why the other had been so desperate at the time.

“It was just a moment of impulse,” Travis Sullivan gave a wry smile. “I just did badly on the make-up exam.”

Turns out, at the end-of-year exam last year, this guy missed it due to something, and his professor wouldn’t let him take leave. Instead, he acted all tough, saying, “Worst case, I’ll take the make-up next term. If I don’t get an A in every subject, I won’t move up to upper dorm!”

But in this make-up exam, he happened to get a B in one subject. Although it didn’t stop him from advancing, Someone Sullivan is a man of pride and said, “I’ll just stay in inner dorm for another year!”

However, his father wouldn’t let him mess around like that. Spending another year means graduating a year later. At this point, he gave a wry smile. “My family wants me to enter officialdom. Being a year younger means getting a head start… sigh, you probably don’t get it.”

“I get it,” William Thompson protested. “I’m from Huaxia on Earth, and you’re telling me about officialdom? It’s just ‘one step behind, every step behind,’ right?”

“Huh, you’re pretty insightful,” Travis Sullivan looked at him in surprise, feeling he’d underestimated this orphan. “But I just don’t want to follow my family’s arrangements…”