Return of the Immortal Emperor Daddy novel Chapter 303

The school Qin Yuhan chose for the little one was, naturally, no ordinary institution. Nor was it just a simple elementary school. Named Jixia Academy, it encompassed elementary, middle, and high school levels, and its existence had received official recognition.

The name "Jixia" immediately brought to mind the Jixia Academy of the Warring States period. That historical institution was the world's first higher education establishment of its kind—organized by the government but managed privately. During its time, academic works were published one after another, creating a favorable social environment for the contention of a hundred schools of thought and promoting the flourishing of academic culture in the pre-Qin era.

This school, daring to call itself "Jixia," was certainly not as legendary as its historical namesake, but it was far from simple. If you couldn't afford a Ferrari with your daily income, or if your child wasn't a renowned prodigy, you wouldn't even know of its existence. The reason for its exclusivity? Its principal had once been the teacher to the principals of both Shuimu and Longjing Universities. He was also a descendant of the Confucius Family of Qufu and, therefore, a direct descendant of Confucius himself.

The weather was hot, and before the school gates had even opened, a kind-hearted, white-haired old man was already there, distributing complimentary mung bean soup to the children and parents to help them cool off.

Jixia Academy was located on an obscure mountain in Yang City, usually a peaceful place filled with the songs of birds and the fragrance of flowers. But since it was registration day, the area at the foot of the mountain was bustling with traffic.

Wu Tian had already brought the little one here. The drive itself should have taken only ten minutes, but to set a good example for his child, Wu Tian drove in such a proper, rule-abiding manner that it took them an hour.

Along the way, however, the little one grew displeased. "I thought you had the driving skills of Takumi Fujiwara, Dad, but it turns out you don't."

Wu Tian didn't argue. This little one will definitely be a female driver one day—and not just any female driver, a fighter jet among them.

At the base of the mountain, Wu Tian and the little one also had some mung bean soup. The old man who served it wore a rare Zhongshan suit and was as thin as a bamboo stalk. He had a full head of white hair and a kind face. Perhaps because he spent all his time in the mountains, his skin was fair enough to make many women jealous.

Seeing Wu Tian and the little one drink his soup, he blurted out, "Well, I'll be damned. Finally, someone is drinking the mung bean soup I brewed."

PFFT! The little one, who was in the middle of drinking, sprayed her soup everywhere. She hadn't expected such an elderly man, who by all rights should be a cultured intellectual, to speak so coarsely.

Wu Tian, on the other hand, had seen it all. What kind of person hadn't he met? He'd known a tomb-raiding Taoist, a damned black dog, and even powerful experts who would repeatedly provoke the weak only to be beaten time and again, claiming they were trying to comprehend a higher Martial Path from the beatings. Nothing surprised him anymore.

"You have no idea," the old man sighed. "I brew this mung bean soup every year at this time, but what happens? The rich people don't want to drink it, probably because they think it's not clean. As for the families who aren't rich, their children must be geniuses. They don't want their kids drinking it either, afraid they'll get an upset stomach and it'll affect their performance on the exam."

"Exam?" Wu Tian immediately grasped the key point.

"Right, didn't you know? To register, you have to pass an exam first." The old man glanced around before whispering to Wu Tian and the little one, "The school needs funding, you know. It isn't a government institution, and even the official schools don't have that much money. Without money, how can you provide a good education? That's why this school accepts the children of the wealthy. But what if they turn out to be dunces? Simple. They get sent to the Sky Class. Don't be fooled by the impressive-sounding name; it's just to placate the rich parents. We just take their tuition and put on a show. The class that receives the real attention and cultivation is Class A."

"Mhm." The old man nodded one last time, then waved his hand. "You can go now."

He had been the one to start the conversation, and now he was the one ending it.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify