https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-122-I-m-Sorry-A-Zhen-Repaying-Monthly-Ticket-Loan-5-/13686566/
Chapter 121: Classes Are Too Full to Schedule
Inside the Rest Area of Bailong High School, Yu Xinghan was staring at the rankings on the Sky Column—specifically, the name at the very top.
Zhang Yu? he thought silently. No wonder Li Shijie took such a liking to him. Though I ultimately eliminated him in the final selection, he does have undeniable potential.
He glanced sideways at Song Hailong and mused: I should probably find a new sparring partner.
On the other side of the room, Song Hailong seemed to sense Yu Xinghan’s gaze. He watched the latter’s retreating back, then turned his attention once more to the Sky Column.
As he stared at the name at the top—Zhang Yu—Song Hailong couldn’t help but think: Maybe I should change my sparring partner too.
A flicker of regret passed through him. He regretted having declined Zhang Yu’s sparring offer earlier. If he’d stayed in the role, he might have witnessed firsthand how Zhang Yu had evolved into this level.
…
At Songyang High School’s Rest Area, Yu Xinghan approached under the surprised stares of the students.
Though Zhang Yu had won this round, Yu Xinghan’s dominance across the first three stages of the competition remained deeply etched in their minds.
Now, face-to-face with the Golden Core Disciple and top student of Bailong High School, the Songyang students felt overwhelmed by his aura. They instinctively stepped back, pressed by the weight of his reputation.
Beside He Dayou, a girl whispered: “Isn’t it customary at Bailong High School to kneel? Should we kneel to welcome him?”
“Shut up,” another boy snapped. “This is Ziyun High School. Do you even know the proper etiquette for bowing to the top student here?”
He Dayou couldn’t bear to see his fellow countrymen grovel before a Bailong student. Coldly, he said: “This is the Rest Area of Songyang High School. The ground beneath our feet belongs to Songyang. A bow is all we owe this man.”
Bai Zhenzhen mentally labeled them all useless. It was only her—Sports Competition fifth-place finisher—who stepped forward to speak with Yu Xinghan.
She approached him and asked, “What do you want?”
Yu Xinghan glanced at her, expression calm. “Add me as a friend?”
Bai Zhenzhen blinked. He’s asking me to be friends? I didn’t expect that from a Golden Core Disciple. Is he really into making friends?
She liked making friends herself. “Sure. Friend request is 500.”
“Then never mind,” Yu Xinghan said, pocketing his new phone. “I didn’t really want to add you anyway.”
Bai Zhenzhen hurriedly said, “Wait! How about 100? Is 100 okay?”
Seeing him pull out his phone again to send the request, she was stunned.
Is this guy really a Golden Core Disciple? A rich guy?
This was the first time Bai Zhenzhen had ever seen someone with money haggling over a few hundred.
“I came here mainly to meet Zhang Yu,” Yu Xinghan said, turning his gaze toward Zhang Yu, who was still lounging on the sofa.
Yu Xinghan wasn’t someone born invincible—someone who’d never faced a stronger opponent. Even against weaker foes, there were always lessons to be learned.
Take Song Hailong, for example. His relentless spirit, his unwavering integrity—qualities worth emulating. They kept Yu Xinghan grounded, reminding him not to grow arrogant just because he was top of his grade. Not to throw away a key martial art trait—stealth—over petty pride or vanity.
But beyond learning, there was another reason he’d chosen Song Hailong as a sparring partner. A reason known only to him.
Now, looking at Zhang Yu, Yu Xinghan saw even greater potential.
That kind of flawless physical mastery…
So much I want to learn.
Want to absorb him completely.
Right then, Yu Xinghan looked at Zhang Yu like a man staring at a feast of knowledge—hungering to devour every bit, to turn it into strength.
“Train with me,” Yu Xinghan said. “Six thousand per hour. You in?”
Zhang Yu’s eyes flickered. Though he was about to earn a bonus and endorsement deals, in Kunxu, no one ever said no to more money.
“How do you want to train?” Zhang Yu asked.
Yu Xinghan stroked his chin, thinking. “Just real combat. You do whatever it takes to beat me.”
“Fifteen thousand an hour.”
“Seven thousand max.”
“Seven thousand? No way. At least twelve thousand. I can’t be worse than Song Hailong.”
Zhang Yu remembered: Song Hailong had charged ten thousand per hour.
Yu Xinghan sighed. “Fine. Eleven thousand. That’s the absolute top. If you’re not in, I’m leaving.”
Seeing Yu Xinghan turn away, Zhang Yu quickly said: “Fine! Fine! Eleven thousand—done!”
With that, Yu Xinghan walked off—already friends with Zhang Yu, and a date set for their next real combat training session at Bailong High School.
Just then, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen—it was Li Xuelian.
Recalling her request to report the final weight, Yu Xinghan smiled and answered: “Li Shijie, you’ve seen the results, right?”
Li Xuelian didn’t dwell on the last round. To her, it had been an unforeseen event. No one could’ve predicted Zhang Yu’s performance at that stage. Her initial assessment had been flawless.
But Zhang Yu himself… now that was a surprise.
Still, she had no interest in discussing it with Yu Xinghan. She cut straight to the point: “The contract’s been adjusted. The upcoming ads and endorsements will be done together—by you and Zhang Yu.”
She finished the update and started to hang up.
But then Yu Xinghan said, “Li Shijie… I’d like to get Zhang Yu to train with me. He’s got a lot to teach me—qualities I need to absorb.”
He hesitated, then added: “I offered him fifteen thousand an hour. Can you approve it?”
As a Golden Core Disciple, Yu Xinghan was both rich and poor.
Rich, because Xinghuo Immortal and Li Xuelian had poured countless resources into him—enough to make even the wealthiest students in Songyang city envious.
Poor, because every single expense had to be approved by Li Xuelian. His monthly discretionary allowance? Just five thousand.
This paradox—rich in assets, poor in freedom—was why he’d initially refused Bai Zhenzhen’s friend request. Five hundred was too much to risk her approval.
It was also why he’d chosen Song Hailong as a sparring partner: a chance to skim some tuition fees.
“Fifteen thousand?” Li Xuelian paused, recalling Zhang Yu’s performance. “Fine. But make sure you send me the training records—every session, every fight, recorded and reported.”
Yu Xinghan understood. She was guarding against false claims, against him inflating hours or fees. But he had ways around it.
After hanging up, Li Xuelian found herself unexpectedly curious about the outcome of the fight between Yu Xinghan and Zhang Yu.
Yu Xinghan had been trained under Xinghuo Immortal for years. In her eyes, his combat experience was far beyond Zhang Yu’s.
…But Zhang Yu does have something worth learning. Fifteen thousand is well worth it.
Maybe I should’ve signed him back then.
When she shared her thoughts with Xinghuo Immortal, he replied with a sigh:
“Zhang Yu is indeed impressive. I underestimated him. If resources allowed, I would’ve signed him.”
“But since we can only focus on one disciple, we must choose the most promising one.”
“Enough, Xuelian. The past is past. Don’t dwell on it. Worry only brings pain.”
…
Back at Songyang High School’s Rest Area.
Zhang Yu had just finalized his sparring deal with Yu Xinghan—when another request popped up: Song Hailong’s sparring partner application.
Before he could negotiate the price, Le Mulan’s message arrived.
Le Mulan: “Can you train with me in ground combat?”
Zhang Yu felt the sudden pressure of being in high demand.
He groaned: “Ugh… too many classes to schedule. Can’t keep up. Money’s coming in too fast!”
Bai Zhenzhen, who’d been watching him reply, said: “Yu, if you’re overwhelmed, I can take some of your classes for you.”
“I’m not the same as I was two months ago, during the martial arts tournament.”
Zhang Yu paused. He thought of Bai Zhenzhen’s fifth-place finish this time.
Her progress was already astonishing—fast enough that, with a better background, she could easily crack the Top Ten by senior year.
But being poor, she’d have to work even harder just to have a shot.
A Zhen’s pace? Only slightly slower than mine. Faster than Song Hailong’s and Le Mulan’s.
She can definitely handle sparring with either of them.
And more than that—Zhang Yu knew she needed the money.
More money means faster growth. And one day, she’ll be able to join me in the Top Ten.
The thought stirred a shadow in his chest.
He remembered his sister’s demand: The two of us must take first and second place.
But now? Yu Xinghan, Song Hailong, Le Mulan—each more intense, more gifted than the last.
He wondered: What’s A Zhen’s current standing in the competition? Will it even matter for Top Ten?
Better ask her tonight.
…
That evening, after the competition ended.
Zhang Yu, Bai Zhenzhen, and Zhang Pianpian met under a bridge.
They stood by the riverbank, chatting casually.
As the water flowed gently before them, Zhang Pianpian suddenly asked:
“Zhang Yu… if I gave you a chance—two months from now, to join me on the second floor—would you take it?”
(End of Chapter)
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