Applied Immortality

“My face is sitting right here. Let them come hit it if they want to.” Wang Qi was stern. “But what’s Immortal Institute’s face got to do with me?”

The youth’s tone was irrefutable. Mao Zimiao even gave him an odd look.

[I guess geniuses’ brains are wired differently after all.]

The three Argent Apex disciples squeezed out a smile. “Senior Brother Wang, don’t say that. We are from the same institute. Anyone else can see that. We might not interact much, but that isn’t something you can just deny. A loss for Argent Apex Immortal Institute is your loss as well.”

Wang Qi’s snapped his eyes on the speaker. “Which are the current best Immortal Institutes?”

He replied in reflex, “Leyan, Lijing…”

“And why are the two of them seen as the strongest? Do they settle vendettas?”

The three disciples were lost for words.

“The Immortal Institute established to offer basic education and training to gifted seekers of immortality, to determine the path most suited to them.” Wang Qi preached while stirring his porridge. “If I become a five best true disciple, others would condescend how Argent Apex Immortal Institute ain’t bad. What do you think people would say if none in our year gets to be a true disciple, not just in the five best, but in the lower sects as well?”

Wang Qi showed utter contempt. “What the hell does that get to do with face? Is that how you think you should uphold your name?”

“Huh?”

The bookworm sneered. “What I’m trying to say is that you believe there’s no way of shaming them in the examination. Now that the chance came to humiliate the Langde Immortal Institute, you think that by beating them outside the examination, you’d still feel it’s a win no matter how bad the tests’ results are. Tell me if I’m wrong.”

The three flushed. “How did you know?”

Wang Qi mocked them without even turning his head. “Placing your name on the same level as Immortal Institute’s is pathetic, even more so for not knowing how to fight for said Immortal Institute’s reputation…”

The trio left in indignation before he finished.

Wang Qi still stirred his porridge like nothing happened.

Wu Fan stayed behind. He noticed Mao Zimiao’s odd look. “You may be right, but you should still do it.”

The cat-eared girl nodded. “Yep, yep. Little Qi, you don’t like fighting, but you should stir trouble every chance you get, nya.”

“Don’t feel like it…” When no one unrelated was around, the mighty bookworm’s swag deflated. Wang Qi lay on the table. “I’m so seasick right now I feel like hurling, yet you want me to fight?”

Wu Fan glanced back at the distancing trio and smiled. “You could’ve said it another way.”

Wang Qi scoffed. “It’s for their own good.”

Wu Fan sighed. “They don’t get it, nor I, for that matter.”

Wang Qi gave a muffled explanation. “Modern cultivation needs Dao seekers. Fighters don’t bring a smidgen of contribution to Dao. Not to mention the strong drive to win scuffles is detrimental to a Dao seeker, for the wins you should be aiming for aren’t against mediocre…”

“Well said.”

A man interjected.

Mao Zimiao and Wu Fan turned to the neighboring table, at a youth wearing a white coat. His spiritual power was at the same level as Wang Qi and the others, early Qi Refining. He had a casual demeanor, unfazed by anything. His hair was of a much lighter color than common folk, but nowhere near as exotic as a demonborn’s like Mao Zimiao. It was also wild.

Wang Qi was slower to react.

The youth’s left hand was playing with a crabapple—Wang Qi really wanted to call it an apple, but when in Rome…

The youth’s crabapple fitting in his fist was a shiny red, and very eye-catching. They say sweet fruits are a good remedy for seasickness.

The youth picked up the bowl on the table with his right, slurped his porridge, and continued. “Dao seeker, a term only said by those who truly understand modern cultivation. You’re not bad.”

“Tanks, is that crabapple for sale?”

Divine Province’s cultivation world thrived, yet the mortal world’s means fell short of Earth’s. Out-of-season fruits were expensive and in high demand. The youth’s lustrous fruit revealed it was freshly picked. Jiongli had to have a place nearby that sold them.

The youth didn’t see it coming and was taken aback. He stared at the fruit and smirked. “This? You can’t afford it.”

Mao Zimiao whined. “Isn’t it just a crabapple? How expensive can it be?”

As far as the demonborn girl knew, crabapple wasn’t a spiritual fruit.

The youth had the same carefree demeanor, neither interested nor bothered. He threw the fruit to Wang Qi. “Care for a bite?”

“I feel slightly underestimated here.” Wang Qi smirked and brought the fruit to his mouth. “By taking a bite I’ll have to pay you for it. Your pettiness is revolting, somewhat.”

The youth looked at him with faint interest.

Wang Qi was an independent man. If he wanted to do something, he’d do it with no regard for anyone’s thoughts. As he thought about eating the fruit, the youth’s peculiarity never registered.

As for being poisoned, Wang Qi reckoned he’d yet to gain such a die-hard enemy to send a kamikaze over to the Immortal Alliance branch to kill him.

He took the first bite.

The apple’s juice touched his tongue, the thought ‘sweet’ entering his mind. Chewing a bit, Wang Qi felt that both the taste and the texture were just like a regular apple from Earth.

He froze. [Did something pass over my head?]

A baby-faced girl ran to the porridge stall. She wailed at the crabapple in Wang Qi’s hand. “Don’t eat it!”

She spoke just as Wang Qi took a second bite.

It was a large one too, close to half of the whole fruit. Wang Qi didn’t chew, taking some porridge as well before swallowing everything whole.

He asked the youth, “What’s your relationship with Transcendent?”