The Daily Life of the Immortal King

It was September 5th, the twenty-third day of the summer vacation.

There was about a month to the end of the summer vacation. The start of a new term of every cultivation high school happened before that; that was to say, although school started on October 7th, the truth was that students had to hand in their homework and do a new round of entrance exams on October 1st.

Half a year had passed, but Wang Ling still remembered the embarrassment that happened when he entered No. 60 High the first time round. The new entrance test wouldn’t affect the class groupings, and was just for evaluating each student’s overall ability after half a year of learning. Some students improved, while some screwed up… What was vital was how much progress they made.

This was also a new level of difficulty in keeping his grades down which Wang Ling was now facing.

This was a lot harder than keeping his test scores down, because he had to be very clear about each of his classmate’s learning situation, and then calculate the progress they made, and finally determine how much progress he himself should make…

Yes, even when it came to the rate of progress, Wang Ling had to keep his grades down to retain his middle position in class.

Wang Ling didn’t like to procrastinate when it came to summer homework; he didn’t want to end up doing it in a fast food restaurant in the last few days of the summer vacation like 99% of students.

Wang Ling preferred to do his homework in an orderly manner. Besides, there were some parts which he didn’t personally need to write himself.

In terms of handwriting, Wang Ling already had a database of all the font types in the whole world in his brain. Using the remarkable “Great Ma Liang ¹ Spell,” it was easy to mimic any handwriting, so even if Wang Ling didn’t practice writing his characters, he didn’t have to worry that his handwriting would look bad.

Every time he handed in his homework and his exam papers, Teacher Pan always felt that Wang Ling’s words looked like they were printed, each one being a uniform square…

…

The last summer assignment was to write a report.

This was also compulsory homework which all teachers-in-charge assigned their students, and which was extra credit that counted to their graduation.

Wang Ling didn’t really care about this extra credit, but if he didn’t write the report, his marks would be deducted…

The topic of the report: “My Classmate.”

Requirements: After half a semester, you should now have some knowledge and understanding of your classmates. Please write an evaluation of no less than 800 words each on the five students whom you are the most familiar with in class. Explain how you got to know each other and how you get along (Do not make things up. Your story must be true. You can make fun of the other party, but you are not allowed to use insulting words.).

“…”

Hm…

Mentally skimming through the homework requirements set by Teacher Pan, Wang Ling felt some melancholy for the first time in a long while.

800 words actually wasn’t hard… But writing five essays was a little demanding!

The point was, he couldn’t have Pen and Eraser write this for him. These two gremlins wrote in a mechanical style. Wang Ling remembered when the language teacher had written a comment at the end of an essay which Pen had written for him: “You might as well copy out The Complete Classic Collection of Good Words and Good Sentences .”

And so, the teacher had given that homework a low grade.

The disadvantage of mechanical writing was that the work was emotionless, and it was too obvious when you were imitating star compositions.

The report this time was on true stories.

Wang Ling felt that at the very least, he needed to have a better understanding of the five people before he could write the report.

When it came to the five people whom he had the deepest connections with in class –

They were Super Chen, Dopey Guo, Feather Lin, Little Peanut, as well as Lotus Sun, whom the author had no freaking clue about but hadn’t forgotten…

Four of these five people had been on his “to watch out for” list at the start of the semester.

Now, in the blink of an eye, a semester had passed.

“How time flies…” Wang Ling murmured unconsciously.

Only one semester had gone by after 900-plus chapters. Actually, Wang Ling didn’t know how many more chapters the author would have to write before he got to Wang Ling’s high school graduation… No, perhaps the question was, how many more days were there before it was over?

After all, this shameless and unscrupulous author was only updating at one chapter a day.

…

Every time he thought about his, Wang Ling couldn’t help taking a deep breath.

He calmed down, and when he opened his eyes, the golden petals in his pupils blossomed as he released all of the power of sight of the King’s Eye.

Light shot through the air and tore open part of history – Wang Ling was searching for Super Chen’s memories.

In the blink of an eye, Wang Ling had moved from his desk to a sea of stars. This was the memory space which the King’s Eye had infiltrated, and around Wang Ling at the moment were fragments of Super Chen’s memories.

Wang Ling reached out to grasp one fragment.

Memories that didn’t belong to Wang Ling suddenly appeared in his mind.

Various memories and images were displayed in vivid detail like old photos.

Year 4383…

Super Chen was three years old, and could already remember things.

The Chen family ran a martial arts dojo, and Father Chen was the head.

One night in late December, it suddenly turned cold in Songhai city, and snow fell heavily along with piercingly cold winds.

When Super Chen woke up, there was already a thick layer of snow outside.

The sky was just turning light, and the world outside was white with snow. The faint light which broke through the clouds reflected off the snow, irritating Super Chen as he opened his eyes in discomfort.

It was still a little before six o’clock.

Super Chen had slept in his family’s dojo that night.

When he opened his eyes, he could already hear the sound of the wooden dummy being hit outside.

Father Chen had set up some equipment for martial arts practice in the dojo’s courtyard out front.

Super Chen, who was only three, couldn’t fully understand how the equipment worked, but he knew he had to handle this equipment every day if he wanted to become strong.

Father Chen was bare from the waist up, revealing his muscles, and barefooted as he practiced on the wooden dummy in the courtyard.

Father Chen’s punches were as quick and violent as vipers, and Super Chen couldn’t follow them at all with his eyes; even trying to catch sight of their shadows was hard.

Father Chen deliberately had Super Chen live in the martial arts dojo. Their Chen family had practiced ancient martial arts for generations. Although it was now an era of national cultivation, body techniques still played an indispensable role.

However, more and more children nowadays would rather be the mage firing fireballs from the back than the man who used consummate body techniques to charge and break through enemy lines up front.

Father Chen felt that real men should charge forward! Not lie low at the back and just cast spells.

Seeing that Super Chen had woken up, Father Chen knew that the right opportunity had arrived. His aura turned heavy, and as he exhaled, he blew out a stream of white qi a dozen or so meters long like a snow-breathing dragon. Super Chen’s small mouth dropped wide open with awe at this sight.

“Want to learn, boy?” Father Chen looked at Super Chen.

“Yes!” Super Chen was already enticed.

“Good boy!” Father Chen rubbed Super Chen’s small, round and empty head, picked him up and brought him out of the room to an old pagoda tree.

Father Chen: “Go, son.”

Super Chen: “???”

Father Chen: “If you want to practice martial arts, rub this tree first. From today onward, rub the bark with your hand until this tree is bald.”

Super Chen: “???”

Wang Ling: ”