Chapter 4: Chapter 4: A Quick Diagnosis: Completely Illiterate
Outside the alley, under the brilliant sunlight, Fang Can spoke with confidence and composure:
"I have dabbled in a bit of everything, whether it’s poetry and verse, the study of the natural world, celestial movements, arithmetic and geometry, gunpowder development, international affairs, the fine arts... I know a little about all of it."
Fang Can spoke with confidence, holding nothing back in order to improve his standing within this faction.
It was just like a job applicant padding their resume. If not for the fact that this was an Otherworld, with completely different countries and geography, he would have also claimed to know a few foreign languages and geography.
After all, he really did know all of those things—just a little bit of each.
As for his identity?
He was, of course, a senior in his final year of high school—at the Great Perfection stage, the absolute peak of his life’s mental, physical, and memorial faculties!
That’s right!
In layman’s terms, all those lofty-sounding subjects mentioned above were simply known as language arts, physics, geography (the astronomy section), math, chemistry, political science, and extracurricular interests.
All that was left was to swallow the college entrance exam Magic Potion and spend two months digesting it, after which he would successfully devolve into a fragile university student who only knew how to eat.
Hearing Fang Can’s self-introduction, Li Fengtian’s brain short-circuited for a moment. Then, he subconsciously questioned him, "Aren’t you afraid of spraining your back from all that big talk, kid? Who do you think you are, knowing everything?"
’What kind of family could afford to teach him all that? Is he a Prince? A Crown Prince?’
After all, in an era where the average person was illiterate, most people acquired knowledge either in the womb or through oral and hands-on teaching. Just having one marketable skill was already a rare achievement.
Fang Can’s high school education could practically be considered prophetic in this world.
’These are just the standard basic skills of an ordinary high school senior preparing for the college entrance exam,’ Fang Can explained to himself.
Faced with a resume that crushed his contemporaries, Li Fengtian couldn’t immediately tell if the kid was bluffing. A sense of respect for a learned man began to grow in his heart.
So, with the intention of giving him a small test, Li Fengtian asked an incredibly simple question: "Alright then, can you write your own name?"
Fang Can: "..."
That one short sentence had an effect as devastating as calling Sun Wukong the "Horse Groom."
He had just arrived in this world without any chance to learn. Never mind writing the characters, he couldn’t even read them.
The only reason Fang Can wasn’t a mute was that the spoken language here sounded like a dialect from his previous life.
Staring at the strange, blocky characters printed on Li Fengtian’s clothes, Fang Can never thought that he, a dignified high school student, would one day become illiterate.
One look was all it took. Verdict: a bona fide illiterate!
If it were a practical exam, he could at least try balancing a chemical equation for gunpowder or even extracting methamphetamine with the shallow knowledge he’d learned in high school. But his own name...
After mumbling for a moment, Fang Can admitted, quite shamefully, "No, I can’t."
’Heh, I knew you were bluffing, kid.’ Li Fengtian sneered, and the respect he had just felt for the learned man vanished in an instant.
At the same time, a sense of superiority welled up inside him. At least *he* could write his own name. With that thought, he successfully dismissed Fang Can’s presumptuous "bluffing."
Without waiting for Fang Can to prove himself, he clasped his hands behind his back and strode away, leaving the devastated Fang Can behind.
Fang Can, who had a bellyful of things he wanted to say, could only follow along sullenly. He decided that his top priority now was to learn to read the writing of this Otherworld.
After all, there was no use for an illiterate person even if they were holding a secret martial arts manual. Not everyone could be a Shi Potian.
As they walked, he focused his attention on the transparent panel he hadn’t had a chance to examine earlier, preparing to study it carefully.
Name: Fang Can
Body: 1.2
Spirit: 1.2
Qi: 1.0
Talent Entry 1 [Out of the Depths]: The worse your environment, the higher your hidden attributes. Turn misfortune into fortune! Turn disaster into blessing!
Talent Entry 2 [Indomitable]: The lower your health, the faster you regenerate. Only by coming infinitely close to death can you awaken to the true meaning of life!
Description: None
...
In his vision, a pale panel that looked as if it were formed from vape smoke displayed what looked like character data from a game.
Fang Can guessed these were his three primary stats.
Talent Entry 1 was a superpower he was born with, but when had he acquired Entry 2?
Suppressing his confusion, Fang Can turned his attention to Li Fengtian’s explanation.
Seeing that Fang Can was a complete novice who knew nothing about the divisions of power in the martial world, Li Fengtian took the opportunity on their way back to the sect to explain some of the basics to him.
Of course, the main content was just bragging about how awesome the Tiger Slaughter Sect was—how there wasn’t a single rival force within a hundred-mile radius of Yanggu County, how their word was absolute law, how the kid had totally lucked out by joining, and that this was an absolute blessing, and so on and so forth.
As the two walked and talked, Li Fengtian in his high-class embroidered robes and the short-haired Fang Can naturally attracted the attention of pedestrians.
But when they saw the blood-red tiger emblem on Li Fengtian’s chest, they all subconsciously shrank to the side, not daring to get in his way. This indirectly made Fang Can realize that the Tiger Slaughter Sect’s status—and reputation—was probably not very good.
’Have I just joined a Demon Sect?’ Fang Can wondered subconsciously.
In about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the two stopped in front of a large gate adorned with statues of majestic lions.
As Fang Can looked on, he saw wide stone steps leading up to the gate, flanked on each side by three sect members dressed in black uniforms with red patterns.
Above the gate hung a huge plaque, on which the sect’s name was written in bold, powerful calligraphy: [***].
’What fine "Heaven Rewards the Diligent" calligraphy!’ Fang Can mentally praised the three unreadable block characters on the sign.
When the guards saw Li Fengtian approach, they all clasped their fists respectfully. "Welcome, Hall Master Li."
Li Fengtian raised his chin slightly and pointed to Fang Can behind him. "This is a new Disciple I’ve brought into the sect. Get his paperwork in order, and take him to the martial arts hall for training tomorrow."
"As the Hall Master commands," one of the gate guards replied with a clasped-fist salute.
Li Fengtian turned his head to Fang Can and said, "Just follow him for now. First, you’ll train for a month so we can see the quality of your aptitude. We’ll assign you a post after that."
"Hall Master, please wait," Fang Can said hurriedly, watching as Li Fengtian prepared to leave after delegating his charge to the sect members like a hands-off manager.
"What is it, kid?"
"Do... does our Tiger Slaughter Sect have a library?" Fang Can couldn’t help but ask.
Li Fengtian couldn’t help but laugh. "Don’t tell me a guy who can’t recognize a single character wants to read?"
But then he saw the young man before him nod with utmost seriousness, which made the corners of his mouth twitch uncontrollably.
"Kid, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Reading too many books is bad for your martial arts. In the words of the Sect Leader, it creates a... what’s it called... an ’Obstructive Cognition’."
"But if you want to read, go ahead. Just ask him when the time comes." Li Fengtian pointed to the sect member at his side.
Watching Li Fengtian’s back as he took a few steps and vanished from sight, Fang Can couldn’t help but make a snarky comment in his mind:
’It’s "Cognitive Obstruction," you illiterate.’
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