I was just making up techniques… how did all of you become Emperors? Chapter 4: Chu Feng — Don’t Tell Me I Have to Make Up a Cultivation Method?

A collective gasp filled the room as those words hung in the air.

The gazes directed at Chu Feng were a chaotic blend of wonder, contempt, and sheer bewilderment.

It was well known that the Heavenly Spirit Institute stood as the premier branch of Wendao Academy.

Distinguishing itself from other departments, the Heavenly Spirit Institute made no distinction between inner and outer disciples.

Every individual who secured a spot there was either a legendary genius or destined to become one shortly.

In contrast, the current Xiao Chen was a mere cripple, relegated to rotting away within the Miscellaneous Dao Institute—

Even if he had managed to remain among the inner disciples of the Sword Dao Academy, the distance between him and Qin Rou would have only widened as the days passed.

In three years' time, the gap in their prowess would be as vast as the distance between the heavens and the earth.

Within the entire Sword Dao Academy, only a tiny elite could hope to rival the top-tier talents of the Heavenly Spirit Institute.

Those rare few were sword dao geniuses of the highest order, individuals who remained in the sword path solely out of an unwavering devotion to the blade.

Elder Bing let out a mocking laugh, her expression dripping with disdain.

"Very well. If Chief Chu is determined to play out this farce, I shall play along.

Let us set a three-year pact between our disciples. They shall settle this in a duel three years from today.

Should Xiao Chen suffer defeat, you will step down as Chief of the Miscellaneous Dao Institute, dismantle your sect in a public display, and kowtow to me three times in apology!

Do you possess the courage to agree, Chief Chu?"

Chu Feng gave a careless shrug. "Why would I refuse?"

Then, his voice took on a sharper edge. "But what if Xiao Chen emerges victorious?"

"Hmph!"

Elder Bing let out a cold snort. "Pure fantasy. How could a useless cripple like him ever hope to overcome my disciple?"

"Nothing in this world is absolute. If Xiao Chen actually wins, what will Elder Bing offer then?"

Chu Feng remained entirely unshaken and poised.

Watching the confrontation, Xiao Chen’s fists tightened instinctively. Within his soul, he made a silent vow:

"This elder will submit to whatever penalty you deem appropriate!"

Dismissing the very notion of failure, Elder Bing threw out a casual condition.

"That is insufficient," Chu Feng answered with a calm demeanor.

"What else do you demand?" Elder Bing asked, her internal killing intent nearly boiling over.

"Include your disciple in the terms. After all, she is at the very heart of this conflict," Chu Feng said, a smile playing on his lips.

"Fine."

Elder Bing declared, "If Rou'er is defeated, her fate will be left entirely to Xiao Chen’s mercy."

"A pact is made."

"A pact is made."

The two finalized the agreement publicly before the gathered crowd.

Chu Feng reached out and patted Xiao Chen’s shoulder. "Come. We are returning to the Miscellaneous Dao Institute."

"Yes, Master."

Xiao Chen replied instantly, following Chu Feng without casting so much as a parting glance at Qin Rou.

His mind was now consumed by a single goal: to crush her in three years.

Though he couldn't fathom the source of his master's unwavering faith in him, he believed—Master would surely find a path for him to walk the road of cultivation once more.

Upon exiting the academic office, Chu Feng’s pride in Xiao Chen grew with every step.

In that moment, he felt like shouting to the heavens:

News of the events at the academic office rippled through Wendao Academy like wildfire.

The three-year agreement between the Miscellaneous Dao Institute's Xiao Chen and the Heavenly Spirit Institute's Qin Rou became the primary subject of every conversation.

However, the consensus was overwhelmingly skewed toward Qin Rou.

Even the academy's high-ranking officials dismissed it as a desperate ploy by Chu Feng to delay the inevitable end of the Miscellaneous Dao Institute.

To most elders, whether the sect collapsed today or three years from now was an irrelevant detail.

The nine institutes of Wendao Academy were situated upon nine distinct mountains.

The Miscellaneous Dao Institute occupied Miao Miao Mountain.

Unlike the other peaks that buzzed with life and activity, Miao Miao Mountain felt eerily abandoned.

Chu Feng and Xiao Chen trekked along a path that was remarkably clean and silent.

Had the academy not sent workers to maintain Miao Miao Mountain every few days out of tradition, the area would have been reclaimed by the wilderness long ago.

After thirty minutes—

The pair finally crested the long mountain trail and stood before the gates of the Miscellaneous Dao Institute.

In his previous state, Chu Feng would have been gasping for air.

But now, bolstered by ten years of cultivation, the climb felt as easy as a stroll.

Chu Feng spoke, "Disciple, this shall be your home from this day forward.

Our Miscellaneous Dao Institute is vast. There are many vacant courtyards available. Aside from my personal residence, you are free to pick any spot you desire. Just inform me once you have settled on a place."

"My thanks, Master."

Xiao Chen cared little for luxury—his only burning desire was to restart his Cultivation.

Chu Feng gave a nod and walked toward his own quarters.

Xiao Chen watched his master depart. While his mind was flooded with questions, he decided to find a place to stay before seeking answers.

Inside the chief’s courtyard—

Chu Feng reclined on a plush couch, his mind racing as he plotted how to continue the deception for his disciple.

A single disciple like Xiao Chen had already gifted him ten years of cultivation. If every student provided a decade, then ten disciples would mean a century, and a hundred would mean a millennium.

With a thousand years of cultivation, would he not be able to act with total impunity within Wendao Academy?

He could spend his days in perfect leisure.

As for the world of violence, blood, or hunting for "fortuitous encounters," Chu Feng had zero interest. If he could gain power without pain, why would he ever put his life on the line?

However, tricking disciples was no simple feat.

Someone like Xiao Chen was a rare find in Wendao Academy—particularly because the Miscellaneous Dao Institute had such a pathetic reputation.

It seemed he would have to invent a comprehensive system of techniques to maintain the illusion.

The night passed in tranquility.

The following morning, well after the sun had risen—

Chu Feng let out a yawn and swung his door open, only to find Xiao Chen standing silently in the courtyard, waiting.

Small beads of sweat clung to Xiao Chen’s brow—it was obvious he had been standing there for quite some time.

Chu Feng instantly smoothed his features into a mask of dignified teacherly concern. "Xiao Chen, how long have you been standing there?"

"Reporting to Master—it has not been long, perhaps only two hours."

Xiao Chen showed no resentment for the long wait. Instead, he convinced himself that his master was testing his grit and patience.

As the old adage goes:

Chu Feng let out a silent groan of frustration.

He asked in a measured tone, "What brings you to see me?"

"Master, I wish to begin my Cultivation again. I beg you to guide me onto the path."

As he spoke, Xiao Chen prepared to sink to his knees.

Chu Feng moved quickly to catch him, preventing the gesture. "Why are you always so quick to kneel? Stop that. I will find a way for you to cultivate."

"Thank you, Master!"

Xiao Chen’s eyes sparkled with intense hope.

Chu Feng looked into that hopeful gaze and thought to himself:

Regardless of his motives, a master who failed to provide a cultivation technique to his disciple was no master at all.

If word got out that he taught Xiao Chen nothing, he would never be able to recruit more disciples.

But there was a major hurdle—Chu Feng had no idea how to actually cultivate!

With that thought, a sudden spark of inspiration hit Chu Feng's eyes.