Songyang High School.
The students of Class One, Grade One, filed one by one into the Training Ground for their martial-arts combat lesson of the day.
As she walked, Bai Zhenzhen thought to herself: *What is Yu'er up to? I can't even reach him.*
"Claiming sick leave? What high school student gets sick leave."
"Can he be buckling under already?"
While Bai Zhenzhen's mind wandered, she suddenly noticed that the practice hall already held a large crowd besides Lei Jun, the martial-arts teacher. Looking at the students behind Lei Jun—especially the tallest of them all—her gaze sharpened: "That's the doorplank guy?"
And recognizing the students around 'the doorplank,' Lan Ling, Bai Zhenzhen realized at once these were all Grade Two students.
A full extra year of cultivation had made nearly every senior bulge a size larger than the juniors, their secondary sex characteristics almost entirely faded, their exposed arms littered with dense needle marks...
Every one of those cultivation scars bore witness to the seniors' strength and hard work.
Bai Zhenzhen wasn't the only one to recognize them. Soon, students began greeting the seniors. Zhao Tianxing bowed to martial-arts teacher Lei Jun first, then turned and gave the assembled seniors a proper, careful bow, saying stiffly: "Greetings, seniors!"
Zhao Tianxing, who usually weighed over three hundred jin, looked like a corgi standing before Lan Ling.
Only after Lan Ling gave a faint nod of his chin did Zhao Tianxing retreat cautiously.
This was the junior-rung status within high school: how a lower-year student must face a higher-year one.
Because between Grade One, Two, and Three—each cohort a full year of cultivation apart—there lay an absolute gulf in strength. Some even classified the three grades as early, middle, and late Qi Refinement, to highlight the divide between them.
At Songyang, a junior meeting a senior would greet him first; lower grades couldn't sit until the upper grades did; in the bathroom a junior had to let a senior pee first; and when applying medicine in the same room, the senior went first...
All of it had dissolved into daily habit.
Songyang, of course, was more humane than the three great elite schools. Word had it that at White Dragon High, upperclassmen could even make juniors kneel and kowtow.
Fortunately, different grades had vastly different curricula, teaching venues were separate, and the workload was crushing besides—so juniors and seniors rarely ran into each other.
Truly fortunate, truly fortunate.
At this moment, every student entering the Training Ground bowed to Lan Ling's crew one by one. And that only made one person stand out all the more.
Zhao Tianxing watched Bai Zhenzhen, who had yet to greet the seniors, and fretted for her inwardly: *What's wrong with A-Zhen? The seniors will zero in on her.*
He could already feel several senior students' glances sweeping toward Bai Zhenzhen from time to time; simply putting himself in her place made him cringe with discomfort.
Once Class One, Grade One had all assembled, Lei Jun addressed them: "Today, the seniors of Class One, Grade Two have taken a period out of their schedule to give you hands-on combat guidance. A round of applause!"
What? We're about to be beaten by sophomore top scholars?
At this, the students clapped with gusto: "Thank you, seniors!"
One top student had already started grinning, thinking: *These are the model class of Grade Two. If we had to hire them for sparring outside, wouldn't a single lesson cost a thousand or more?*
Another, eager to raise his combat score, could barely wait: *Even if a senior lectures us by breaking an arm, it's worth it!*
Qian Shen's eyes locked onto Lan Ling—the tallest, the one built like a doorplank—and noted to himself: *Lan Ling. Last month's Grade Two overall runner-up and the top in PE. The ace of the Grade Two athletics team. But..."
"No fun." Qian Shen turned away. "Scores across different grades mean nothing. These model-class sophomores cultivated a whole year early... any one of them is unbeatable to a freshman. There's no real difference among them to us."
He Dayou, as the kenge son of a board trustee, simply smiled and nodded to the seniors by way of greeting—he knew many of the star students in Grade Two and Three.
Lei Jun, seeing the eager faces of most students, was pleased with their spirit: "Good, very energetic."
"Dao arts take money—the more you spend, the stronger you get."
"If you want to be strong in martial arts, you train by taking hits. The less you fear losing, being struck, being crushed, the faster your combat skill grows."
"Only by being beaten again and again, crushed again and again, rising from the floor again and again, can you build real combat experience."
Seeing students already raising their hands impatiently below, Lei Jun was about to assign sparring partners when Lan Ling leaned in and whispered something in his ear. Lei Jun nodded, then turned his gaze to Bai Zhenzhen, who was hiding behind the crowd. "Bai Zhenzhen, you go first with the seniors—show your classmates how it's done."
"Lan Ling, this Bai Zhenzhen is the best combat prospect in Grade One. Give her a proper lesson."
Lan Ling kept working the barbell in his right hand as he walked slowly onto the floor, and said mildly to Bai Zhenzhen: "Junior sister, shall we have a friendly bout?"
Bai Zhenzhen's face darkened. Amid the envious stares of her classmates she walked up, cursing the doorplank man thoroughly in her heart.
*Damn creep. He's clearly up to no good—coming to bully a junior over that contract, is he?*
She guessed the coming fight would hardly be a mere spar; he'd take the chance to put her in her place.
Strike first!
No sooner did Bai Zhenzhen step up than she shot forward, kicking at the vital Dan-field spot of Lan Ling's lower abdomen.
Lan Ling didn't even dodge, letting the kick land with a muffled thud.
A vital spot hit, yet his expression didn't change and he didn't take a step back—as if nothing had happened.
On the contrary, Bai Zhenzhen felt as if she'd kicked solid granite; it felt like her foot bones might crack.
"The gulf between me and a sophomore is that wide?"
She tried to retreat, only to feel her ankle seized by a hand like a pair of iron pincers.
Lan Ling gripped her ankle, smiling. "Junior sister, it seems you underestimate me."
While the two fought, Lei Jun was giving commentary to the students on the side.
"Good sneak attack! Remember, in real combat a surprise strike is a real art—the best way to prevail over strength. Still, Bai Zhenzhen knows too little about Lan Ling."
"Lan Ling got his 'Absolute' sterilization done long ago—not only has he shed all gender characteristics, unbothered by hormones, he's even lost most of his ordinary weaknesses..."
"And now Bai Zhenzhen is locked down. She keeps kicking and thrashing, trying to break free, but Lan Ling's physical body is strength level six or above, while Bai Zhenzhen's is barely level 1.4. Once she's locked, it's already over..."
Halfway through the commentary, there came a sudden boom from beneath Lei Jun's feet, and his figure shot out like lightning.
At the same moment, a thunderclap split the air.
To the students' stunned eyes, Bai Zhenzhen was hurled flying by Lan Ling, a streak of afterimages trailing her as she hurtled toward the Training Ground wall.
Just as her skull was about to hit, Lei Jun appeared behind her. The two of them together smashed through the wall with a crash and flew out into the grounds beyond.
A moment later, Lei Jun led a limping Bai Zhenzhen back into the Training Ground, face dark as he looked at Lan Ling: "That was too hard, wasn't it?"
Bai Zhenzhen was one of the top combat performers in Grade One. If she was badly hurt, that was a hit to Lei Jun's record.
Lan Ling smiled mildly: "I had faith you were present, Teacher, so she'd be fine."
"Besides, it's a good opportunity to teach junior sister the lesson of underestimating one's opponent in real combat."
With that, he looked at Bai Zhenzhen: "Got that combat lesson locked in, junior sister? Shall we continue?"
At the renewed invitation, anger had crept into Bai Zhenzhen's eyes, and a power long hidden inside her stirred, straining as if to burst free of its cocoon.
She told herself: *No, can't reveal it. If I unleash it here, I'm finished...*
Lei Jun started to intervene, but a single look from Lan Ling froze him in place. "Teacher, I'll mind my restraint from here on."
Lei Jun had suspected before but now knew for certain. Linking it to the student council's earlier order that Bai Zhenzhen and Zhang Yu be barred from the martial-arts competition, he understood this too was the council's doing.
And thinking of the Songyang student council, he could only sigh inwardly. He warned: "This is my class. Don't push it too far."
Lan Ling smiled: "Rest assured, Teacher. Bai Zhenzhen is a high-value student of this school; I certainly won't let her take serious harm."
By now, the surrounding juniors had picked up on the strange atmosphere, though none could make sense of it.
He Dayou's gaze shifted. As the trustee's son, he'd caught on—this was a crackdown on Bai Zhenzhen? Did her contract hit a snag? Were they trying to drive her price down?
He rather regretted Zhang Yu's absence today; otherwise he might have enjoyed the spectacle of the poor wretch's discomfort.
Just then, a male voice rang out from the Training Ground entrance.
"Hey, you picking on my intern?"
Under everyone's shocked, puzzled stares, Zhang Yu walked in from the gate, raising his right hand as he spoke, fingers tracing rapidly across the black-and-white registry book.
Binding charm—activate!
The next instant, countless golden specks of light flickered around Lan Ling, condensing into enormous golden palms that lunged at him.
Before Lan Ling could move, golden palms seized his head, shoulders, arms, legs, and torso—nine in all.
"A binding charm?"
"This pauper Zhang Yu... where did he get a registry book to cast a binding charm?"
Feeling the nine great palms pressing him down, even trying inch by inch to force him to the ground, Lan Ling grew furious.