https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-147-Gradually-Taking-the-Shape-of-a-Double-Agent/13686615/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-149-True-Combat-Techniques-Please-Vote-for-Me-/13686617/
Chapter 148: Zhang Yu's Meteoric Rise
(Thanks to 'The One Who Happened' for the MVP donation)
Inside the training arena.
Students from Class 1A of the first year were undergoing one-on-one Real Combat Training.
Wudao teacher Lei Jun bellowed at the group:
"Dao arts cost money, Wudao demands sacrifice. Want to spend less? Then train harder."
"Every extra minute you push yourself now means fewer yuan you’ll have to pay in remedial classes later."
"In just two months, you’ll officially become second-year students. Ask yourselves—do you think your current level even deserves that title?"
As he urged them to train diligently, Lei Jun glanced at the Ziyun Person, the beastmen, and the Black people in the class, inwardly sighing:
"This year’s high school entrance interview—whether students are willing to undergo a New Physique Enhancement Surgery after enrollment might become a major advantage."
"In five or ten years, it might be as routine as sterilization surgery—mandatory for admission."
Lei Jun could already picture the scene:
What? You look like this and still want to cultivate? First go through your Modification Surgery.
Still, he felt a quiet relief:
"Thankfully, I’m not the PE teacher. It’s not my problem."
With the advancement of New Physique Enhancement Technology, he knew the PE teachers were holding meetings every single day, constantly redesigning teaching plans.
"So, being a Wudao teacher is still the best—light workload."
"Though only for first-year teachers. The seniors? They’ve got real pressure."
He knew the third-year Wudao teachers were under immense strain.
Facing students who had already reached late Qi Cultivation, and at the most score-hungry age of their lives—what they needed was real combat experience.
"Me? I’ve only mastered the basics—ambushes, taunts, provocations. I’m barely qualified for Arena matches."
But could someone like me become a third-year teacher?
Lei Jun knew that was a dream.
"Third-year teachers must spend years mastering Insurance Contracts, injury assessments, medical compensation, organ valuation. Otherwise, how can they understand exactly how a student got killed or maimed in class?"
Still, high risk, high reward.
Sometimes, Lei Jun couldn’t help but envy the third-year Wudao teachers’ income as insurance and medical intermediaries.
At that moment, footsteps echoed from outside.
Lei Jun looked up as a line of second-year students entered, the leader among them being Lan Ling. His brow immediately furrowed.
At once, the first-year students paused their training and bowed respectfully.
"Senior, good morning!!"
Lan Ling gave a slight nod.
"Back to work."
Then he walked toward Lei Jun, smiling faintly.
"Teacher, today’s arranged a combat exchange between second and first years. You’ve received the notice, right?"
Lei Jun checked his tablet—yes, it had been scheduled. His mood darkened further.
He remembered the scene months ago, when Lan Ling had personally guided Bai Zhenzhen.
But he knew he couldn’t resist.
Lei Jun sighed inwardly:
It’s finally happened, huh?
He knew the Student Union of Songyang High School, and even the entire 16 Noble Clans of Songyang City, wouldn’t stand by while Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen—two poor students—kept stealing competition rankings.
To the wealthy families of Songyang, every competition rank was a crucial point in their top-ten interview profile.
How could such a prize be handed to those destined to fail the top-ten cutoff?
Even with Qi Cultivation at its peak, Lei Jun dared not defy this tide.
He forced out a reluctant reply:
"Just don’t hurt anyone."
Lan Ling smiled.
"Relax, teacher. I’ve already told all the students—when training with junior classmates, be careful. No injuries allowed."
"By the way," Lan Ling’s gaze swept the room, then paused.
"Has everyone arrived? If not, gather the missing ones."
In a corner of the training hall, Zhao Tianxing—his body a vivid purple, resembling a walking eggplant—secretly pulled out his phone and sent a message to Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen:
"The Doorplate Man’s coming for you. Don’t come."
But just as he hit send, a hand gently landed on his shoulder. He nearly dropped the phone in shock.
"Junior, let me give you a little guidance."
Zhao Tianxing turned—and saw a senior, significantly broader than him, grinning warmly.
Lan Ling said calmly:
"Zhou Ke, remember—no harm to the junior."
"Relax." Zhou Ke pulled Zhao Tianxing forward, his voice soft.
"Not a single hair will be harmed."
...
In the school’s small grove, Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen were quietly cultivating.
As Zhang Yu channeled his Chisui Hunyuanqi, his muscles, organs, and bones thrummed with intense energy. His entire body radiated heat, like a radiator, steaming into the surrounding air.
Since returning from Xian Du, Zhang Yu had been spending recklessly on the immortal path—his cultivation had soared without pause.
Today, his Martial Energy stood at 69.4, Physical Strength Level reached 6.81—rapidly approaching the average standard of a first-year White Dragon person entering third year.
Only his Dao Heart had progressed slowly, now at Level 5 (37%).
"Yu Xinghan said he’d hook me up with a Ling realm Dao Heart cultivation path after the College Entrance Exam. Where’s the deal now?"
Besides Dao Heart, Martial Energy, and physical strength, another achievement stood out: through real combat training with Yu Xinghan, Zhang Yu had pushed the Dragon-Elephant Crushing Mountain Palm to Level 10.
Since reaching Level 10, he’d sensed subtle changes in his muscles and bones every day—his body undergoing a constant, quiet transformation from daily nourishment and training.
He understood this was the true effect of the 10th-level Dragon-Elephant Crushing Mountain Palm—known as Dragon Sinew, Elephant Bone—granting his body greater spiritual resilience and the capacity to withstand and transmit far greater explosive force.
"No wonder Yu Xinghan trained this skill. It’s worth 200,000 yuan."
"If I had this Level 10 Palm during the Physical Fitness Competition, maybe I could lift 13,000 kilograms. No—maybe even 14,000 kilograms of Sky Column."
Just then, Bai Zhenzhen spoke up:
"Yu Zi, did you see what Lao Zhao sent?"
Zhang Yu opened his phone, read the message, then looked at her.
"A Zhen, what do you think?"
Bai Zhenzhen grinned.
"If we’re afraid to face someone like Lan Ling—how can we ever challenge the Xian Du masters?"
With that, she vanished in a flash of lightning, streaking toward the training hall.
"Yu Zi, I’ll go ahead. If you’re late, there won’t be any fighting left."
Watching her disappear in an instant, Zhang Yu murmured:
"A Zhen’s speed is getting faster and faster."
He knew he wasn’t the only one advancing at breakneck speed.
Bai Zhenzhen had also been improving dramatically.
"Her natural talent was already strong under Zhen Linggen’s enhancement," Zhang Yu recalled.
He remembered how quickly she’d mastered basic high school martial arts, how fast she’d grasped the Tianwu Heart Scripture, and how effortlessly she’d learned Wuji Yunshou’s external techniques—each in record time.
Now?
"Zhen Linggen’s pushing my speed training, and that’s also accelerating Zhen Linggen’s evolution."
Zhang Yu had trained in so many Level 10 techniques—far beyond any high school student’s reach.
As Zhen Linggen adapted to his cultivation, it absorbed traces of those techniques from his body—his physical structure, his Martial Energy flow—and passed them back into Bai Zhenzhen’s body.
This meant that whenever she practiced a technique Zhang Yu had trained in, it felt natural, effortless—like water flowing downhill. Her progress soared.
Especially with pure external arts like Beilong Fanyue Hand and Dragon-Elephant Crushing Mountain Palm—she mastered them with ease.
But Zhang Yu knew Bai Zhenzhen couldn’t afford the licenses for these techniques.
She’d been secretly training them all on her own, never revealing them openly—just a private weapon for her own growth.
...
Back in the training hall.
Zhao Tianxing, still dazed, barely managed to get up—only to be kicked in the backside by Zhou Ke, sending him sprawling face-first into the ground. The second-year students burst into laughter.
Zhao Tianxing struggled to rise again, dodging and striking—but no matter how fast he moved, Zhou Ke always appeared behind him, delivering a precise, forceful kick to the rear.
The force wasn’t strong—just enough to knock him down.
But it was a complete dominance in strength, speed, and control.
Zhao Tianxing wasn’t injured.
He wasn’t even discouraged.
After all, facing a senior from the next grade—any first-year would be outmatched.
"Of course. One year’s gap is still a chasm."
Most of his focus wasn’t on fighting anymore.
It was on his own humiliation.
Thankfully, I had the Super Metabolism Surgery. My whole body’s purple—no one can tell I’m blushing.
Purple is my best camouflage now.
He quickly adjusted his pants, already loose, afraid they’d fall off mid-fight.
He knew he was now the laughingstock of the entire hall.
And the only thing he could do? Act indifferent.
Eventually, people would stop laughing.
That was his experience—after countless times as the class clown.
As for resistance?
"We first-years? Of course we can’t beat second-years."
"And the leader’s from the Student Union…"
Thinking of Lan Ling’s noble connections, Zhao Tianxing reminded himself: Don’t bring trouble to your parents.
Just then, a voice cut through the air:
"Enough. What’s the point of this kind of training?"
Zhou Ke stopped, turning to face Qian Shen, tilting his head.
"Junior, you have a problem with your senior’s guidance?"
Zhao Tianxing, still on his knees, looked at Qian Shen with quiet gratitude.
"Lao Qian…"
Qian Shen frowned.
"In the College Entrance Exam’s practical test, the Huangjin Warriors simulate actual exam conditions. You need to fight opponents with similar stats."
"Training like this? It’s wasting everyone’s time and dragging down everyone’s scores."
"And Zhao Tianxing—most of the people here have low scores already. You’re only making things worse."
(End of Chapter)
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