Chapter 895: Chapter 528
Within Mochi Academy, six classrooms are situated along the corridor.
At this moment, outside the classrooms, autumn leaves are swirling in the sky, and the open ground below is crowded with students from various halls.
Yet, all the people are enveloped in silence, even deliberately keeping their breathing low…
They stare with wide eyes, silently watching the distant Confucian-robed woman who remains in place.
Just a few breaths ago, a Confucian-robed woman, identical to her, had emerged from her body, her snow-white eyes swiftly embarking on a journey southward.
Meng Zhengjun furrows his brows tightly, his eyes fixed on the direction where the presence, seemingly a Nascent Soul yet not quite, had departed.
According to the rules, flying is forbidden within the Academy, the restrictions are exceedingly strict; even she, the teacher of etiquette, and indeed the few Deputy Mountain Masters could not breach them.
However.
The snow-eyed Zhu Yourong had just left with great swagger, as if nothing had happened.
The ancient array’s prohibitions enveloping the Academy did not hinder her in the slightest.
Because… she possessed a ‘Wind of Joy’.
Seeing it is like seeing a nobleman.
Therefore, a few breaths ago, the Confucian-robed woman who had gracefully bowed in front of Meng Zhengjun erupted with a fury like igniting a powder keg, and Meng Zhengjun could not immediately pursue her.
There was the reason of the Academy’s prohibitions, and also… she, being a half step Nascent Soul, lacked the ‘generosity’ of a certain young lady’s intervention.
Able to condense a Nascent Soul, and leave the body for a thousand miles.
Simply… incredible.
Meng Zhengjun’s eyelid twitched sharply, he withdrew his gaze and abruptly turned around.
“Zhu Weirui, calm down! What is the matter? This is the Academy, it is simply absurd, no one will be of help today, give me an explanation!”
Meng Zhengjun spoke in a firm and quiet voice, his figure flashed and appeared before the stationary Zhu Yourong.
The Confucian-robed woman, with her three thousand strands of black hair cascading down like a waterfall, was looking down, staring vacantly at her tightly clenched right fist, as if there was something inside it that she dared not face.
“You want… an explanation?”
The Confucian-robed woman swayed unsteadily and softly murmured, suddenly raising her head:
“Meng Zhengjun, I want you to give me an explanation! As the teacher of Mochi Academy, leading the team down the mountain, and bearing the responsibility of guarding the students, yet arrogant and negligent!!”
Zhu Yourong gritted her teeth, waving her jade hand to push aside the stunned Meng Zhengjun standing in front of her.
The woman’s dark hair cascaded like a waterfall, her eyes slightly red, she grabbed the obstructive white hem of her gown and dashed hurriedly toward a certain place within Mochi Academy down the straight corridor…
The previous image of the elegant and intellectual lady teacher is now completely gone.
Such behavior, within the Academy bound by strict rules, is exceedingly rare and rude.
“You… you said…”
Meng Zhengjun stood in place, slowly retracting his outstretched hand, his mind filled with confusion.
“Arrogant and negligent…”
The rigid and stern lady teacher suddenly turned around, her gaze swept over the returning crowd missing one person, and the next moment, she seemed to recall something, suddenly awoke, and quickly took out an object with no reaction or warning from her sleeve.
“Could it be… bad!”
Meng Zhengjun furrowed his brows, turned around immediately, and quickly chased after the determined back of the Confucian-robed woman.
On both sides of the Mochi corridor bathed in golden sunset.
After the hurried departure of both Academy lady teachers, the atmosphere among the students became momentarily silent.
After a short while, they withdrew their curious or puzzled or complicated gazes.
The students who had witnessed the entire affair exchanged countless glances, and an uncontrollable clamor for discussion arose.
“Is this really the elegant and carefree Orchid… Teacher Zhu who used to teach us calligraphy classes?”
Some students who had long admired and focused on the Orchid teacher couldn’t help but murmur.
“Nonsense, could it be false.” Another student interjected.
“But… what on earth, did Teacher Zhu and Teacher Meng argue about, also, why was Teacher Zhu… so anxious.”
The crowd began to murmur, the atmosphere among the students filled with confusion.
However, there were also some students of remarkable backgrounds and extraordinary insight who couldn’t help but express surprise about other matters.
“Just now, was that… Wind of Joy? Isn’t Teacher Zhu only a first-rate Confucian scholar, not yet a nobleman, and isn’t this rare and precious Wind of Joy something that only our Confucian noblemen can be bestowed by the Confucian Temple? Similar to the Daoist Purple Energy.”
“Hey, I’ve never heard of that before, Brother Chen, elaborate a bit.” Some students in the crowd asked with curiosity after hearing this.
The latter waved his hand, saying he only knew a little, just those things he mentioned earlier.
At the front of the crowd, Yu Huaijin, Gu Yiwu, Han Wenfu, the leaders of three different halls, glanced back at the students discussing, but said nothing.
The crowd was full of wild guesses, engrossed in speculation.
Among the students in front of Shuaixing Hall, Xiao Hongyu spoke with doubt:
“Can the Nascent Soul also leave the body?”
Her background gives her considerable knowledge of cultivation.
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PS: Refresh at three
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Within Mochi Academy, six classrooms are situated along the corridor.
At this moment, outside the classrooms, autumn leaves are swirling in the sky, and the open ground below is crowded with students from various halls.
Yet, all the people are enveloped in silence, even deliberately keeping their breathing low…
They stare with wide eyes, silently watching the distant Confucian-robed woman who remains in place.
Just a few breaths ago, a Confucian-robed woman, identical to her, had emerged from her body, her snow-white eyes swiftly embarking on a journey southward.
Meng Zhengjun furrows his brows tightly, his eyes fixed on the direction where the presence, seemingly a Nascent Soul yet not quite, had departed.