Chapter 21: The Bear and the Armchair
Past the rickety registration desk, the grounds of Shrek Academy looked less like a prestigious cultivation school and more like an abandoned farming commune. The dirt paths were uneven, the wooden cabins were suffering from dry rot, and the training fields were just cleared patches of weeds.
Mame walked through the dilapidated campus, his immaculate silver-white silk robes practically glowing against the drab, rustic background. He moved with the slow, unhurried grace of a noble inspecting a rather disappointing stable.
Eventually, he reached a large, open clearing that served as the final testing ground.
Sitting in the center of the dirt field, dozing in a wooden chair that looked entirely too small for him, was a man built like a brick fortress. He wasn't particularly tall, but his shoulders were impossibly broad, thick with corded muscle. He had a gruff, scarred face and radiated a heavy, earth-shaking aura even while asleep.
Zhao Wuji. The Vigorous Vajra Bear. A Rank 76 Spirit Sage and the Vice Dean of Shrek Academy.
Hearing the soft crunch of expensive leather boots on the dirt, Zhao Wuji lazily cracked one eye open. He expected to see a terrified, exhausted kid who had barely scraped past the second and third exams. Instead, he saw a pristine, silver-robed aristocrat who looked like he hadn't even broken a sweat.
Zhao Wuji blinked, sitting up straighter. "Well, aren't you early. You pass the bone age and spirit rank tests already, rich boy?"
"I did," Mame replied smoothly, stopping a few paces away. He didn't bow. He simply looked down his nose at the massive Vice Dean. "I presume you are the final hurdle of this quaint little institution?"
Zhao Wuji let out a gruff, booming laugh, slapping his thick thigh. "Quaint? That's a new one. Yeah, I'm the final test. Name's Zhao Wuji. Usually, I don't bother with this part. One of our older students, Dai Mubai, is supposed to test the newcomers."
Zhao Wuji sighed, scratching his stubbled chin in annoyance. "Unfortunately, that idiot prince picked a fight with a walking natural disaster at the Rose Hotel last night. He's currently laying in the infirmary with a dozen fractured bones and a bruised ego. Kid's tough, so it's not life-threatening, but he won't be throwing any punches for a few weeks. So, you're stuck with me."
Mame's pitch-black eyes betrayed absolutely nothing. He offered a slow, polite nod, deeply amused by the irony. "How unfortunate for him. I suppose I will just have to settle for the Vice Dean, then."
Zhao Wuji narrowed his eyes. As the owner of the Vigorous Vajra Bear Martial Soul, he possessed incredibly sharp, beast-like instincts. He looked at the boy's arrogant posture, the flawless silk, and the dark, wild hair.
On the surface, it was just a spoiled noble. But underneath... Zhao Wuji felt the hair on the back of his massive neck stand up.
What the hell is this kid? Zhao Wuji thought, a rare thrill of anticipation rushing through his warrior's blood. There's no soul power leaking out, but my bear instincts are screaming at me. It feels like I'm looking at a sleeping dragon. A true monster.
A massive, sharp-toothed grin spread across Zhao Wuji's face. This was exactly why Shrek Academy existed.
"I like your nerve, kid," Zhao Wuji chuckled, crossing his massive arms. "You definitely have the air of a monster. But we can't start the final exam just yet. We have to wait and see if any other freaks made it past the front gates. We test in batches."
"I see," Mame said, his tone perfectly flat. "We wait."
"Yep. Could be a while," Zhao Wuji grunted, gesturing vaguely to the empty dirt field. "Make yourself comfortable."
He expected the pampered noble to complain about the dirt, or perhaps stand rigidly at attention to preserve his expensive clothes.
Instead, Mame simply raised his hand. His void-black ring flashed.
With a soft, heavy thud, a massive, obscenely plush armchair materialized right in the middle of the dusty training ground. It was crafted from polished dark mahogany, upholstered in crimson velvet, and featured heavy gold tassels along the armrests. It looked like a throne stolen directly from a royal palace.
Zhao Wuji's jaw dropped. He stared at the chair, then up at the boy, completely dumbfounded.
Mame didn't say a word. He casually turned around, sat down in the luxurious velvet armchair, and elegantly crossed his legs. He rested his elbow on the armrest, propped his chin on his knuckles, and let his pitch-black eyes drift shut.
Within seconds, his breathing slowed into a calm, rhythmic cadence. Right in front of a Rank 76 Spirit Sage, in the middle of the most brutal entrance exam on the continent, the "Young Master Bai" decided it was the perfect time to take a nap.
Zhao Wuji stared at the sleeping boy for a long, silent moment. Then, a booming, uproarious laugh erupted from his chest, echoing across the academy grounds.
"Oh, you are definitely a little monster!" Zhao Wuji cackled, shaking his head as he leaned back in his own, vastly inferior wooden chair. "This year's batch is going to be incredibly entertaining."
Chapter 21: The Bear and the Armchair (Continued)
The afternoon sun baked the hard-packed dirt of the Shrek Academy training field. For the next hour, Mame slept peacefully in his summoned velvet armchair, completely unbothered by the heat, the dust, or the scrutinizing gaze of Vice Dean Zhao Wuji.
Eventually, the sound of footsteps crunching on the dry grass signaled the arrival of the remaining applicants.
Four figures stepped into the clearing, having successfully navigated the earlier, grueling stages of the entrance exam.
Leading the group was Tang San, his expression a mask of calm calculation, with Xiao Wu sticking uncharacteristically close to his shadow. Behind them walked a stunningly beautiful girl in a pale cyan dress, her skin like porcelain and her demeanor radiating pampered wealth—Ning Rongrong, the little princess of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan. Bringing up the rear, moving with absolute, silent grace, was the cold, leather-clad Hell Civet, Zhu Zhuqing.
As they entered the clearing, the group collectively stopped dead in their tracks.
The visual contrast of the scene was utterly absurd. On one side of the dusty, weed-choked field sat a massive, scarred brute of a man in a cheap wooden chair. On the other side, resting comfortably in a ridiculously opulent, crimson velvet armchair, was a boy in immaculate silver-white silk, taking a nap.
Ning Rongrong's perfectly sculpted jaw dropped. She looked down at the dust clinging to her expensive cyan dress, and then pointed an accusing finger at Mame's velvet throne.
"Hey!" Rongrong complained, her spoiled, aristocratic entitlement instantly flaring up. She stomped her foot, glaring at Zhao Wuji. "What kind of academy is this?! I'm the heir to the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, and I had to wait in line in the boiling sun for two hours! Why does he get VIP treatment and a velvet chair?!"
Zhao Wuji lazily cracked an eye open, picking his ear with a thick finger. "He brought it himself, princess. Spatial ring. If you want a chair, you should have packed one."
Tang San's eyes narrowed as he recognized the silver-robed aristocrat from the Rose Hotel.
His hand instinctively brushed his Twenty-Four Moonlit Bridges belt. The hypocritical rage he felt the night before came rushing back. Tang San looked at Mame lounging in the chair, and his deeply ingrained Tang Sect biases immediately drew a conclusion.
Lazy, Tang San thought, his internal monologue dripping with self-righteous disdain. He relies on the wealth of his clan to pave his way. That crushing pressure from the hotel, those impossible rings... it has to be a trick. An illusionary spirit tool, or perhaps a forbidden alchemical drug that temporarily inflates aura and alters ring color. There are no shortcuts in true cultivation. He is a fraud masquerading as a master.
Tang San felt a smug sense of superiority wash over him. He was a reincarnated genius who had spent his entire life training his body and mind. He wouldn't let a spoiled noble with flashy tricks intimidate him again.
Beside him, however, Xiao Wu was having an absolute mental breakdown.
Her long rabbit ears twitched erratically, her crimson eyes locked onto the sleeping boy. Her 100,000-year beast instincts were completely haywire, tearing her in two different directions.
Run! her prey instincts screamed, sensing the terrifying, dormant King Beast hiding beneath the silver silk. He's an apex predator! Hide!
But simultaneously, a deep, profound warmth bloomed in her chest. The microscopic traces of Ki radiating from Mame felt... familiar. It felt like the thick, ancient canopy of the Star Dou Forest. It felt like the heavy, protective earth-shaking rumble of Er Ming, the Titan Giant Ape. It felt like the cool, unyielding authority of Da Ming, the Azure Bull Python.
Why? Xiao Wu thought, her breath hitching as she stared at the human boy. Why does he feel like home? Why does he feel like my brothers? Standing a few paces away, Zhu Zhuqing remained completely indifferent on the surface. Her pale face was a mask of cold stoicism. But internally, a rare, genuine spark of amusement flickered in her dark eyes.
She recognized him from the registration line—the boy who had terrified the entire crowd with just a look. And now, he was treating the most notoriously brutal entrance exam on the continent like a waiting room for a high-end restaurant.
The arrogance, Zhu Zhuqing thought, a microscopic, almost invisible smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. At least he doesn't pretend to be something he's not.
Zhao Wuji stood up from his wooden chair, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the dirt field. He stretched, his joints popping like firecrackers.
"Alright, you little freaks, listen up!" Zhao Wuji boomed, his rough voice completely shattering the quiet afternoon.
In the velvet armchair, Mame slowly opened his eyes. He didn't jump. He didn't startle. He simply uncrossed his legs and sat up, his pitch-black eyes taking in the four new arrivals. He offered Tang San a polite, mocking smile that made the Tang Sect genius grit his teeth.
"Since Dai Mubai got himself hospitalized by picking a fight he couldn't finish," Zhao Wuji announced, a vicious grin spreading across his scarred face, "I'll be taking over the final exam. Congratulations on making it this far. But if you want to officially join Shrek Academy, you have to get past me."
Zhao Wuji slammed his massive fists together, a shockwave of raw, physical power rippling through the air.
"The test is simple," the Vice Dean laughed. "The five of you have one incense stick of time to coordinate. After that, you will all attack me together. If even one of you is still standing when the incense burns out, you all pass. If I crush you all... you pack your bags and go home."