No longer a Lackey

Mo Qingkuang, upon hearing that Zheng Tao did not firmly refuse, knew that there was a chance. With Mo Fan's guidance, he quickly said, "Director, the admiration and respect I have for you are like the continuous flow of a river." 

"I heard that Headmaster Fu's disciple is hailed as the number one talent in the Central Province. He must have shown off in front of you many times, right? You can rest assured, that as long as you accept me as your disciple, in the future, you can show off in front of anyone!" 

These words scratched Zheng Tao's itch. He had never accepted disciples not because he didn't want to cultivate successors, but because he had never found a suitable one. 

A few years ago, the previous martial arts champion, Chen Kong, satisfied him quite well, but he was snatched away by that fellow Fu Qing. 

Although the three big shots of the Imperial Academy had always been at odds with each other, in reality, they maintained good relations. The rivalry of the older generation naturally continued to the next. 

Chen Kong's talent was exceptional. Over the past three years, he consistently broke through his cultivation realms, surpassing the disciples cultivated by Hua Ge over many years. He became the number one talent in Central Plains, ranking high on the Young Qilin Ranking. 

However, Fu Qing was someone who couldn't control his mouth. Whenever he met someone, he would brag about how talented his disciples were. When he snatched people away from Zheng Tao back then, Chen Kong willingly joined his side. Fu Qing often boasted about this in front of Zheng Tao. 

Thinking about this, Zheng Tao's heart was filled with anger. He carefully examined Mo Qingkuang. 

About sixteen years old, with a divine-grade technique, a first-rank martial master, an earth-grade physique, and extremely high comprehension. In a short time, he could cultivate an earth-grade martial skill, possessing a certain level of strength to fight beyond his rank. 

No matter how you looked at it, he was a good seedling. If cultivated well, he wouldn't be much worse than Chen Kong! 

"Do you really want to be my disciple?" Zheng Tao stared deeply at Mo Qingkuang, and his aura suddenly changed, as if a mountain was pressing down. 

Seeing this, Mo Qingkuang was not alarmed but delighted. It seemed that Zheng Tao didn't want to reprimand him but was instead testing him before accepting him as a disciple. 

He straightened his back, his gaze firm. The profound hatred, the hope for the rise of the family, and the belief in becoming stronger were all supporting him! 

"I indeed want to be the director's disciple!" Mo Qingkuang gritted his teeth, enduring the overwhelming pressure, and spoke slowly with determination. 

"Think carefully..." Zheng Tao smiled, and the pressure suddenly increased. 

Mo Qingkuang groaned and collapsed to the ground. 

Then he stubbornly straightened his spine again, looking resolutely at Zheng Tao. 

As time passed, Mo Qingkuang felt the pressure all over his body alleviating, and his breath gradually stabilized. He stood up with a flushed face, panting heavily, "Have you agreed?" 

As time passed, Mo Qingkuang's forehead was covered in sweat, and he almost bit his teeth until they bled. But he remained steadfast. 

Zheng Tao nodded and turned away. 

Mo Qingkuang felt the pressure around him ease, and he gradually regained his breath. With a flushed face, he stood up, panting heavily, "Does this mean you've agreed?" 

"Secure the position of the martial arts champion first..." Zheng Tao waved his hand, and Mo Qingkuang flew out, falling down clumsily. 

"Teacher, just you wait!" Mo Qingkuang knew he had passed the test. He glanced at the closed door and happily rushed out. 

Inside the room, Zheng Tao had a faint smile on his face, murmuring to himself, "Since that fellow Fu Qing's disciple became the martial arts champion, my disciple should at least be the martial arts champion too. Little rascal, don't disappoint me." 

*** 

Seeing Mo Qingkuang come out of the inner hall in a sorry state and unable to conceal his joy, Han Yan'er, who had been waiting for a long time, immediately went up to him. 

"Why did it take you so long?" she asked. 

Mo Qingkuang teased, "Just now, an old man claimed that I'm even more handsome than him and insisted on taking me as his disciple!" 

"Old man? What old man?" Han Yan'er was puzzled. The ones who usually checked ages were some court officials, whose strength generally reached the level of Grandmasters. 

Mo Qingkuang pretended to be clueless. "An old man who is quite handsome. He even introduced himself as the Dean of the Martial Arts Institute, called Zheng Tao." 

Han Yan'er rolled her eyes. "Can you stop bragging? Dean Zheng wants to take you as his disciple, claiming you're even more handsome than him?" 

"You think I'm lying?" Mo Qingkuang smiled. "The old man said that as long as I can become the Martial Arts Champion, he'll take me as his direct disciple." 

"That sounds more reasonable," Han Yan'er said, glaring at him. 

With Mo Qingkuang's extraordinary talent, it wasn't impossible for Dean Zheng to have thoughts about taking him as a disciple. However, achieving the title of Martial Arts Champion might be challenging for Mo Qingkuang. 

The age limit for the martial arts exam was eighteen. Mo Qingkuang was only sixteen, and the candidates approaching eighteen were likely to have stronger talent and abilities. 

Moreover, with the interference from Yuan Sword Sect, the difficulty of the exam had increased significantly. 

Thinking about this, Han Yan'er said, "This isn't the place to talk. Come with me to my mansion; there are some things I need to discuss with you." 

"Why can't we talk here? You always make things complicated." Mo Qingkuang, still in high spirits, jokingly complained. 

His voice wasn't low, and many people around heard him. They were astonished. Was this guy flirting with the Ninth Princess? 

Han Yan'er's cheeks quickly turned a hint of crimson. She glared at Mo Qingkuang fiercely. What on earth is the deal with this guy? 

If it weren't for his assistance at the Flower King's Royal Tomb and being chosen by Director Zheng, she wouldn't have had to rely on him this time for the imperial examination. Han Yan'er couldn't help but wish she could call the guards to sew this guy's mouth shut. 

"What nonsense are you talking about? Hurry up, there's something important to discuss!" Han Yan'er was so frustrated that she wanted to find a hole to hide in. She grabbed Mo Qingkuang's hand and rushed out. 

Seeing this scene, a series of bone-dislocating sounds echoed in the hall of the government office. 

"There's a brother trying to hit on her..." 

"Help him put his jaw back in place first!" 

*CRACK* 

"Is the Ninth Princess holding a man's hand?" 

Han Yan'er, always the dream lover of young talents in Central Province, with her clear and cold temperament, was widely admired. 

Never before had someone dared to speak to her in such a frivolous manner. What was even more surprising was that instead of angering Han Yan'er, it led to an awkward situation where she pulled that guy's hand and fled. 

Could it be that our pursuit strategy is wrong? Or was Kuang Qing so talented that he could make the Ninth Princess fall for him? 

"I told you long ago not to be a lapdog. Look at those lapdogs drooling in the hall, did you hear them? The higher a woman's status, the more she dislikes lapdogs!" The teasing voice of Mo Fan came, awakening Mo Qingkuang from the delightful dream. 

Unbeknownst to him, he had been dragged by Han Yan'er for quite a distance. 

Feeling the silky smoothness tingling his senses, Mo Qingkuang deeply regretted his past behaviour towards Chu Yanran, bending over backwards to please her. 

He silently swore in his heart: 'The old man was right, licking boots will leave you with nothing in the end. I won't be a lapdog anymore!'