Zhou Yi glanced at that scholar when he heard this, a strange look flashing in his eyes: "Fairness? Why should it be fair? What the Academy has never sought in selecting Inner Courtyard disciples is fairness; what it has always selected are people of Great Fortune. And anyone who passes the Academy’s assessment is, without exception, someone of Great Fortune."

These words left that noble scion speechless; for a moment he actually had nothing to say.

Seeing that all the disciples in the room had fallen silent, only then did Zhou Yi speak: "Now I’ll announce the selection system. I have here a box with six hundred slips inside, and only thirty-six of them have numbers on them. Drawing a numbered slip means you’ve passed the assessment."

"If any of you who have already been granted prior qualification to enter the Inner Courtyard do not draw a numbered slip from the box, you may be exempted," Zhou Yi said.

"May I ask, Master, if those of us who already have a predetermined spot draw a numbered slip, how is that to be counted?" Tushan Qing asked.

"It isn’t to be counted at all," Zhou Yi said unhurriedly.

"Then may we sell off any numbered slips we happen to draw?" Tushan Qing asked again.

Hearing this, Zhou Yi gave Tushan Qing a once‑over from head to toe, then said, "Of course you may!"

Standing off to the side, Zhang Chen stared at the large box in front of Zhou Yi, momentarily dumbfounded. He had thought that the so‑called selection quotas would require layer upon layer of assessments, but who knew it would be this crude and simple—actually using a lottery; whoever draws it, gets it.

But he had to admit, though the method was crude and simple, it was indeed effective. Whoever could draw a numbered slip was naturally a person of Great Fortune.

To draw one of thirty‑six numbered slips out of six hundred—such luck was simply off the charts.

"Come, draw lots! The time to decide your fate has begun. But don’t worry; the fact that you’ve been selected into Class A and gained priority in drawing lots means your fortune already surpasses that of the others." The Master hugged the box and walked toward the disciples. "The Academy uses the lottery method precisely to avoid missing any person of Great Fortune. If there truly is someone among you who has not yet obtained a quota but is of Great Fortune, such a person will surely hit in this assessment and absolutely will not be overlooked." Zhou Yi stopped the box in front of the desk in the first row; they saw that scholar reach in and grope around inside for a while, then pull out a slip. He held it up and looked at it, and in the next instant his face changed: "I actually didn’t get a numbered slip? Does that mean I’m one of Great Fortune?"

The scholar’s eyes were full of disbelief.

Zhou Yi was not afraid of offending anyone. Hearing this, he said with a smile, "You brat, what kind of person of Great Fortune are you? It’s only because the fortune in your family is flourishing that you had the chance to enter Chongzheng Academy and gain Inner Courtyard qualifications. Don’t you have any sense of your own weight?"

Hearing Zhou Yi mock him, the scholar gave an awkward laugh. His eyes rolled, and he actually stuffed the blank slip back into the box: "Since Master says a person of Great Fortune is sure to draw a numbered slip, why not make it a bit harder for him?"

Seeing that scholar put the blank slip back into the box, everyone else’s faces turned green. One more slip meant a bit more difficulty, a bit less chance.

"This move is downright inhuman!" Tushan Qing cursed under his breath on the side.

Zhou Yi gave that scholar a look and said irritably, "Always playing little clever tricks."

But he did not actually stop the scholar’s action.

By normal logic, drawing earlier has the advantage of drawing earlier, and drawing later naturally has the advantage of drawing later. But once that scholar chose to be "inhuman" and put the undrawn slip back, those drawing later had all their advantages ground away. Not only did they lose any edge, the difficulty multiplied endlessly.

The Master held the box and continued walking past one scholar after another. They watched as the scholars in the main seats all held slips in their hands, glanced at them, then tossed the slips back into the box, cursing under their breath.

Then they saw the Master, expressionless, walk past one scholar after another until he came to the little Prince, Zhang Xiaohua. Zhang Xiaohua slipped his hand into the box, casually fished out a slip, took one look at it, and broke into a broad grin: "Not bad, not bad! It seems this little Prince’s luck is still pretty good."

On that slip was written the character "eighteen."

Zhou Yi nodded at this and flattered him: "The little Prince is naturally endowed with immense blessings and towering fate. If you couldn’t draw a slip and weren’t a person of Great Fortune, then there’d be no such thing as Great Fortune in this world."

Looking at the slip in his hand, Zhang Xiaohua gave it a casual once‑over, then tossed it to a nearby scholar: "A reward for you."

Ever since Zhang Xiaohua had entered the Academy, that scholar had been following at his side, becoming one of his hangers‑on. Now, seeing the slip thrown over, he was overjoyed, scrambling to catch it with fumbling hands. He pushed back his desk, knelt on the ground, and kowtowed to Zhang Xiaohua: "Many thanks for the reward, little Prince."

Zhang Xiaohua said carelessly, "Get up, no need for ceremony."

That scholar, behaving exactly like a Dog Leg, had not a shred of the arrogance of a noble scion. He sidled up with a face full of obsequiousness: "Little Prince, allow me to massage your legs."

The Master was not at all surprised by this scene. How many Alien Kings are there in the Great Victory Dynasty anyway? As a Prince, Zhang Xiaohua was naturally someone the great aristocrats would rush to curry favor with.

They watched as the Master continued holding the box and walking through the crowd, and before long he arrived in front of the Shen Family’s group. The few people of the Shen Family stared at the box, you look at me, I look at you, but none of them moved first. Shen Qiu had an internally decided quota, so he steadied his mind at this moment and said, "I’ll go first," then stepped forward, reached his hand into the box, and drew out a stick. After a glance, he showed a helpless expression and tossed the stick back in.

Shen Ling’s face was tense as she extended her fingers into the box, rummaging around inside for a while. The next moment she pulled out a stick, only to see that the stick was also completely blank.

"This is tough!" Tushan Qing muttered beside him.

"The Shen Family is facing a great calamity; under a toppled nest, no egg remains whole. They leech off the Shen Family to survive—how could their fortune possibly be good?" Zhang Chen said softly into Tushan Qing’s ear.

Tushan Qing nodded upon hearing this, deeply agreeing as he said, "Exactly, exactly! Well said! The people of the Shen Family all have their fortune in ruins, deathly qi clinging all over them—how could they possibly have great fortune on their side?"

While the two were whispering, Shen Ling, looking grim, tossed the stick back. Jiang Nan, beside her, stretched out his hand and groped around chaotically in the box for a while, then drew out a stick the next moment, which was still a blank one.

Jiang Nan’s face went deathly pale; he directly collapsed back into his chair, then, with stiff movements, tossed the stick back in.

Beside him, Zhang Gaoqiu’s face was now taut and utterly bloodless. He stretched his hand toward the box, his arm trembling as he kept fumbling around inside.

"I really overestimated these scions of great clans. Strip away the halo of their bloodlines and what’s left is nothing much—might even be worse than those rough nobodies from the Martial World!" Watching Zhang Gaoqiu shaking like a sieve, Zhang Chen couldn’t help blurting out a sigh.

His voice was a bit loud—he’d deliberately raised his volume—immediately drawing everyone’s gaze over. Shen Ling glared at Zhang Chen at this moment. "Savage, if you spew nonsense again, I’ll tear your mouth off!"

Zhang Chen just smiled and chose to shut his mouth.

The Master, seeing Zhang Gaoqiu fumbling around again and again, spoke somewhat impatiently, "Have you picked or not?"

Pressed by the Master, Zhang Gaoqiu could only hastily draw a stick. After one glance, he felt the world spinning and his legs going weak; the next moment, he dropped straight to the ground. "Impossible! I am a heaven’s chosen—how could my fortune be inferior to others’?"

"Peasant! It’s all your fault! You cursed him!" Shen Ling now pinned all her anger on Zhang Chen, glaring at him.

Tushan Qing, beside them, looked indignant, standing up for Zhang Chen. "What nonsense are you spouting? His own fortune isn’t as good as others’, how can he blame someone else?"

"What are you all yelling about? Shut up, all of you." Zhou Yi frowned and scolded.

Shen Ling hurriedly helped Zhang Gaoqiu up and spoke words of comfort. "It’s fine that we didn’t draw one. We can buy someone else’s stick. There’s still a way."

Hearing Shen Ling’s words, a bit of color returned to Zhang Gaoqiu’s face. He slowly stood back up and sat down, sitting there in a daze for a while, as though he had lost his Essence, Qi, and Spirit.

He had already lost his bloodline; the only way to reverse his decline was to obtain Mysterious Power within Chongzheng Academy—only then could he avoid being eliminated by the family.

Zhou Yi continued walking past everyone with the box in his arms. Sighs kept rising now and then from the crowd. In the entire Class A, other than the Prince, not a single other person managed to draw a stick.

Very soon the box arrived before Zhang Chen and Tushan Qing. Zhang Chen looked at Tushan Qing. "You first, or me?"

"I wonder if I can ask you, Zhang, to do it for me, and draw a stick on my behalf?" Tushan Qing squinted his eyes in a smile at Zhang Chen, his face full of flattery, speaking pitifully, "Zhang, your fortune soars to the heavens; you’re a man of great fortune. All of little brother’s hopes are pinned on you. Little brother wants to follow you—please give me a chance."

"You really believe I can draw one?" Zhang Chen looked at Tushan Qing in surprise.

Tushan Qing silently cursed in his heart upon hearing this, "You don’t even see how many pieces of Innate Spiritual Treasure you’ve got on you—when it comes to fortune, who could compare to you?"

Zhang Chen glanced at Tushan Qing, then nodded and reached his hand into the box. "Brother Chai, you owe me a favor now."

Zhang Chen wasn’t gambling on fortune; he had a way to distinguish the sticks inside the box. Those sticks were made of wood, and he held the Authority of Wood Element. For any stick that had ink stains on it, he could subtly sense it with just a light touch.

From a distance, Shen Ling snorted at the sight of this scene. "Dogshit great fortune. He’s just a little orphan with no father or mother—what luck could he have? I’d say he’s more likely a walking jinx! Gao Qiu’s identity and status are a thousand, ten thousand times more venerable than his, and even Gao Qiu couldn’t draw one. How could some bumpkin manage it?"

Zhang Chen spared Shen Ling a glance, then casually drew two sticks from the box the next moment, and tossed one of them to Tushan Qing at random. "This one’s for you."

Tushan Qing hurriedly caught the stick, and the next moment his joy overflowed, wild ecstasy filling his eyes. He had only one thought in his head. "This is really something! It hit! It hit! I can join the Inner Courtyard!"