Chapter 111: The Seventeen-Year-Old Martial Arts Grandmaster

After Yang Wenhao administered the elixir of immortality, he tilted his head to observe Yang Ying for any signs of transformation.

"How do you feel?" Yang Wenhao asked.

Yang Ying shook her head and replied, "I don't feel any impulsive urges at all."

Yang Wenhao’s forehead creased with dark lines. What kind of response was that? He inwardly exclaimed that this surely couldn't be his sister; she must have been possessed by a ghost.

Seeing his reaction, Yang Ying chuckled. "I don't feel anything in particular, just that my body feels much lighter."

Yang Ying’s reaction was different from Yang Wenhao's. When he took it, he had grown younger, whereas Yang Ying seemed largely unchanged. However, a lack of visible change didn't matter; at the very least, her ten-thousand-year lifespan was now secure.

Ten thousand years—the recorded history of Chinese civilization was only five thousand years. Although Yang Wenhao believed it was certainly longer than that, five thousand years was the currently accepted global consensus. Ten thousand years was enough to witness the rise and fall of Chinese civilization twice over.

The next day, when Yang Wenhao saw Yang Ying after she had washed her face, he was stunned to discover that she had indeed changed. Compared to before, she now possessed an ethereal and graceful aura, as if she were a celestial being descended into the mortal realm. Her skin was as flawless as a newborn baby's—even rivaling his own.

Even Yang Ying was amazed when she looked in the mirror. What on earth was that substance to have such an effect? Could it be some kind of advanced health supplement? To this, Yang Wenhao only gave vague answers; it was truly difficult to explain the concept of immortality. Besides, he didn't want her to get too involved with such things.

Later, they went to school together. By now, Yang Wenhao and Yang Ying had been secretly dubbed the school's heartthrob and campus beauty by their peers. When he heard this news from Wang Xin, Yang Wenhao couldn't help but smile.

As news of his status as a heartthrob spread, he was frequently approached by naive, wide-eyed schoolgirls confessing their feelings. Every time, however, Yang Wenhao would politely decline. It wasn't just that he wasn't interested in dating; even if he were, he couldn't help but compare these girls to Dongfang Bubai, Lu Zhi, Lu Su, and Li Lingyun—all of whom outshone these students by a long shot. Whether it was the queenly aura of Dongfang Bubai, the noble bearing of the ancient ladies Lu Zhi and Lu Su, or the quirky charm of Li Lingyun, each of them possessed far more grace and beauty.

Wang Xin, standing to the side, would watch with envy, feeling resentful every time he learned that Yang Wenhao had turned someone down. "How did you manage to grow so handsome? I never noticed it before," Wang Xin complained after watching him reject yet another girl.

Wang Xin had initially been interested in that girl, but after getting to know her, he realized she was only interested in Yang Wenhao. The rest was simple: Yang Wenhao rejected her. Wang Xin seethed with jealousy, wondering why the beauties always flocked to Yang Wenhao.

"You're not bad yourself, it's just that you ruined your own reputation," Yang Wenhao laughed. In the past, Wang Xin had been a well-known playboy, though he had mellowed out recently. But it didn't matter; his reputation was already tarnished, and the whole school knew of his "legendary achievements." Yang Wenhao, on the other hand, had been an unknown until now, and with his sudden fame, many were eager to get close to him.

In the blink of an eye, the middle school entrance exams were approaching. Before the exams, Yang Wenhao had already decided on the school he wanted to attend—the same one as Yang Ying, naturally. When Wang Xin was filling out his application, he peeked at Yang Wenhao’s and discovered he was aiming for Tianfu High School, the most prestigious academy in Fengzhou.

Fengzhou was located in the Jiangnan region, which was home to many famous universities and high schools. But Tianfu High School was unique; it was a private institution said to gather the most brilliant minds. Most of the prominent figures in society today were graduates of Tianfu. Some remained skeptical, arguing it was "just a high school," but Yang Ying had chosen it, and Yang Wenhao followed suit. In the end, Wang Xin shamelessly filled out an application for Tianfu as well, though he was deeply uncertain about whether he would actually get in. Yang Wenhao just smiled at this.

One day, at the request of Yang Ying's friends, Yang Wenhao accompanied her and her best friends for a day out. They had a great time at the amusement park, though Yang Wenhao felt indifferent to it all; he was merely there to keep the young ladies company.

As they were heading out to eat, their path was blocked by a few men.

"Who are you?" Yang Ying asked, her brows slightly furrowed—a frown that was nonetheless beautiful.

Seeing her stunning, otherworldly face, the men were momentarily dazed, but they quickly regained their composure.

"Is Mr. Yang Wenhao here?" one of the men asked.

"Are you looking for me?" Yang Wenhao approached them slowly. He turned to Yang Ying and the others, told them to head on ahead, and said he would catch up shortly.

"Speak. What do you want with me?" Yang Wenhao asked.

"Sir, please come with us. Someone wants to meet you," the lead man said.

Yang Wenhao waved his hand. "If they want to see me, they can come themselves. This back-and-forth is tedious."

Hearing this, one of the men became disgruntled. "Don't get cocky just because we're showing you some respect."

"Xiao Liang!" The leader glared at the man, then turned to Yang Wenhao, apologizing, "My apologies, my brother didn't mean it."

Yang Wenhao glanced at Xiao Liang. "First of all, you weaklings aren't even worth my attention, so talk of 'respect' is meaningless."

The leader's expression shifted slightly, but he remained more composed than his subordinates. "I'll be eating just ahead. If you miss the time, don't expect me to be here," Yang Wenhao said with a faint smile. He tapped the leader lightly on the shoulder before turning to leave.

As soon as Yang Wenhao walked away, the leader suddenly collapsed to his knees without warning, his forehead drenched in cold sweat.

"Boss!" the other men cried out in shock.

"I'm fine," he said as they helped him up, his face still pale. "Old Su was right. This man is no ordinary person; his strength likely rivals that of a martial arts grandmaster."

"What! A grandmaster?" the others gasped.

The grandmasters they had encountered were all in their seventies or eighties. How could Yang Wenhao, a mere teenager of seventeen or eighteen, reach such a level?

"You saw that tap on my shoulder. My post-natal cultivation was completely shattered by it. A pre-natal expert wouldn't do that; other than a pre-natal expert, the only possibility is a grandmaster, or at the very least, a half-step grandmaster."