Chapter 4: The Aspect of Dragon and Tiger

There were quite a few martial academies in Shangyi County, but only the official Martial Institute affiliated with the county government had the qualification to recommend candidates for the martial examination.

Because of his previous life's failed experience at a town martial academy, Li Ji'an had not chosen a private school this time. Instead, he spared no expense to enter the official institute.

The Martial Institute was state-run; even the instructors and gatekeepers were official staff.

Aside from apprentices recommended by other academies who’d passed their examinations, the institute’s own requirements for new apprentices were quite strict.

They assessed bone structure, temperament, and age from every angle.

In his past life, Li Ji'an had put in tremendous effort just to be admitted here, enduring much criticism along the way.

“Are you the Daoists from Purple Cloud Monastery?” As soon as they got out of the carriage, a young attendant at the institute’s gate came forward to greet them.

The middle-aged Daoist responded with a polite smile, then watched as Li Ji'an and Qingyun entered the Martial Institute.

“Gentlemen, please follow me to the admissions office for registration, bone assessment, and temperament evaluation. Afterward, you may select an instructor on the training grounds…” The attendant showed no sign of disrespect despite their young age, a testament to the thoughtful arrangements made by the monastery, and also to the standing of Purple Cloud Monastery within the county.

Walking the same path he had taken for ten years in his past life, Li Ji'an paid little attention to the attendant, instead scanning for familiar faces.

Only after leaving the front courtyard did he finally ask, “Was there once an old gatekeeper here?”

The young attendant paused, thought for a moment, and replied, “Are you referring to old Huang? If so, he passed away three years ago.”

“I see.” Li Ji'an nodded, saying nothing more, his mood unchanged.

Three years ago, old Huang would have been over sixty. In these times, that was a long life—a peaceful passing.

And ever since his master died in his previous life, Li Ji'an had grown indifferent to partings and death.

He had to be.

With “Return to Youth” in his possession, as long as he remained cautious and avoided being killed or dying unexpectedly, in theory, he could live as long as the heavens, immortal through eternity.

Time is a blade that will claim everyone—except him.

Fifteen years ago, when trying to enter the Institute, he had often matched wits with old Huang at the gate, even fantasizing that the old man might be a hidden master.

Because of this, he gave old Huang many gifts of wine and meat.

Eventually, he realized the old man was just an ordinary gatekeeper.

Still, over time, a genuine bond had grown.

Passing through the corridor, he arrived at the familiar admissions office.

There, he saw the bone assessor and the temperament examiner he remembered from before.

Bone assessment had some theoretical basis: by correlating the martial achievements of past students with their bone structure prior to training, they’d deduced general rules over time.

Those with certain bone structures developed their bodies faster and achieved higher; these were deemed superior.

Inferior bone structures, conversely, were considered useless.

Of course, this experience-based method had its flaws—true geniuses with unique bone structures might be misjudged as ordinary or even poor.

As for the temperament evaluation… In Master Zhao’s words: “A martial artist’s heart lies in their determination to master the Way, and what they’re willing to sacrifice for it.”

The more one was willing to give, the stronger their resolve, and the less likely they were to quit halfway.

Put plainly: the more money offered, the better.

In his previous life, Li Ji'an had moved the Institute with the sheer strength of his will.

“Are you here to pursue immortality or simply to strengthen your body?” the bone assessor asked as they entered.

There were two paths at the Institute. One was for those aspiring to immortality, requiring higher standards and higher fees, as the Institute would provide instructors, medicines, food, and a series of resources.

Only those with above-average bone structure, excellent temperament, and under fifteen years old were eligible.

The other path was for those simply seeking physical fitness; Li Ji'an had taken this route in his past life.

“Sir, these two are from Purple Cloud Monastery…” the attendant promptly reminded him.

“Oh? Then you must be here for the immortality path. Come, let me assess your bones,” the assessor said, beckoning them forward.

“Ow, ow, that hurts—please, a bit gentler!” Qingyun, plump and chubby, was first to be examined. As soon as the assessor laid hands on him, he howled like a pig being slaughtered.

Li Ji'an had expected this and stepped aside in time, slightly opening his mouth to dissipate the sound.

The assessor was unfazed, even amused by Qingyun’s cries.

“Very good—plump, but sturdy, not weak at all. Thick bones and long tendons; an excellent prospect for martial arts.” He examined Qingyun from limbs to spine, nodding repeatedly.

“It seems Purple Cloud Monastery’s bone-strengthening remedies are truly remarkable.”

“Superior bone structure!”

“Superior?” Li Ji'an raised his eyebrows, surprised at Qingyun’s excellent foundation.

In his decade at the Institute, he’d seen only a handful rated as superior by this assessor—all had passed the county’s martial exams and entered the Immortal Academy in the provincial capital.

As for himself, at age thirty, he had been rated with inferior bone structure.

“Of course, bone structure is influenced by nourishment and development during childhood, and that influence is significant.

But ultimately, it comes down to genetics and prenatal development.

His senior brother’s family was well-off, and when Qingyun was conceived, they were doing quite well. During pregnancy, there must have been ample nutrition, giving him a strong foundation.

Though he hadn’t practiced any strengthening techniques before age eight, there was no lack of good food and care, and he developed well.

From age eight he began practicing with me, so this result is only natural!” Realizing this, Li Ji'an smiled knowingly and gave Qingyun an approving look.

“Oh, sir, please—just tell my master I’m not suited for martial arts, that I have poor bone structure. I beg you!” Qingyun pleaded, utterly uninterested in the coveted “superior” rating, as if it were the plague.

The assessor’s eyes widened in disbelief; in all his years, he’d never encountered such a reaction.

“Qingyun! No nonsense,” Li Ji'an reprimanded sternly at the right moment.

“Senior brother, I…” Qingyun hung his head, thoroughly dejected.

This had been his last hope, and now it, too, was dashed.

“Master, assess me next,” Li Ji'an said, changing the subject and stepping forward.

The assessor eyed Qingyun askance while beginning the assessment.

He couldn’t fathom Qingyun’s attitude—such a pity.

As he was still lamenting Qingyun’s lack of ambition despite his outstanding foundation, the sensation from his hands made him abruptly fix his gaze on Li Ji'an, his expression of regret vanishing in shock.

Li Ji'an clenched his teeth, enduring the pain radiating from his joints.

Seeing the assessor’s look of disappointment, his heart tightened with anxiety.

Could it be his foundation was still poor?

“If this body truly suffered congenital deficiencies from birth, and even postnatal strengthening couldn’t compensate, then things would be much harder. I’d have to find one of those legendary elixirs said to transform one’s bones and destiny!”

After all, “Return to Youth” only reset to age eight; everything before that was set. He had no control over the years before eight.

He felt somewhat discouraged by the prospect, but not entirely hopeless. With “Return to Youth” and the potential to change one’s foundation through divine elixirs, if not in this life, then in another—in ten or even a hundred lives, surely he would succeed.

Of course, with each return, childhood’s shadows and risks would increase. He would need to be ever more cautious, and make meticulous preparations for the next cycle.

But at that very moment—

“Could it be… the Dragon-Tiger Phenomenon?” the assessor exclaimed in disbelief.