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Chapter 58: Senior
Songyang High School.
Students from Class 1, Grade 1 were gradually entering the training arena, preparing for today’s martial arts combat class.
Bai Zhenzhen walked along, her mind racing: “What’s Yu up to? I’ve been trying to reach him, but he won’t respond.”
“Sick leave? High school students don’t get sick leave.”
“Did he crack under pressure?”
As she pondered, she suddenly noticed that besides Martial Arts Teacher Lei Jun, the training hall was already filled with a large group of people.
Her gaze snapped to the tallest figure behind Lei Jun—her eyes narrowed sharply.
“Is that… the Board Man?”
Then she glanced at the students surrounding him. Recognition flashed instantly—these were all second-year students.
One full year of cultivation had transformed them. Every one of them had visibly bloomed, their secondary sexual characteristics nearly vanished, their exposed arms marked with dense clusters of needle punctures—clear signs of relentless, grueling training.
Each of these marks spoke of discipline, power, and sacrifice.
Of course, Bai Zhenzhen wasn’t the only one who recognized them.
Before long, students began greeting the second-years with respectful bows.
Zhao Tianxing was the first to bow deeply to Teacher Lei Jun, then turned and bowed again—this time to the second-years—his voice tight with nervous respect:
“Good day, senior brothers!”
The once 300-pound Zhao Tianxing now looked like a Corgi standing before Lan Ling.
Only after Lan Ling gave a single, subtle nod did Zhao Tianxing cautiously step back.
This was the unwritten rule of high school hierarchy: lower grades bowed to upper.
Because each year meant a full year of cultivation difference—often translating into an absolute gap in strength.
Some even categorized the grades by cultivation stages: First Year = Early Cultivation, Second Year = Middle Cultivation, Third Year = Late Cultivation—highlighting the clear divide.
At Songyang High School, juniors were expected to greet seniors on sight. Seniors hadn’t sat down? Juniors couldn’t sit. If you passed a senior in the restroom, you let them go first. During group medicine sessions, seniors always went first.
These customs had become second nature.
Of course, Songyang was more humane than the top three academies. Rumor had it that at Bailong High School, seniors even demanded juniors kneel and bow.
But thankfully, curriculum differences, separate training facilities, and academic pressure kept cross-grade interactions rare.
And so, it was a small blessing—truly a blessing.
Now, every new student entering the hall bowed respectfully to Lan Ling and his group.
Yet one stood out.
Zhao Tianxing watched Bai Zhenzhen, who hadn’t bowed to the seniors at all. His heart sank.
“What’s wrong with you, Zhenzhen? You’ll get noticed. They’ll target you.”
He could already feel several second-year eyes flicking toward her. Just imagining it sent a chill down his spine.
When all students from Class 1, Grade 1 had arrived, Teacher Lei Jun addressed them:
“Today, our senior brothers from Class 1, Grade 2 have generously given up a class period to guide you in combat practice. Please welcome them with applause!”
What? We’re gonna get beaten by second-year geniuses?
The students erupted in cheers:
“Thank you, senior brothers!”
One student laughed aloud, smugly thinking: “These are Model Class students from Grade 2. If you hired them privately for training, a single session would cost over a thousand.”
Another, desperate to improve, thought: “Even if they break one arm, it’d be worth it to train under them!”
Qian Shen locked his gaze on Lan Ling—the tallest, most imposing figure, like a walking wall.
“Lan Ling—second in total grade last month, first in physical sports, ace of the Grade 2 Sports Competition team. But…”
He turned away, unimpressed.
“No point. Grade differences make scores meaningless. These Model Class second-years have already cultivated for a full year. Any one of them would be unbeatable to first-years. To us, they’re all the same.”
He Dayou simply gave a polite nod to the second-years—no more, no less. As the son of a school board director, he knew many of the top students.
Teacher Lei Jun, observing the eager expressions, smiled approvingly:
“Good. All of you are fired up. Excellent spirit.”
“Dao arts require money—more investment, stronger results.”
“But to grow in martial arts, you must endure pain. The more you don’t fear losing, the more you don’t fear getting beaten, the faster your combat skills will advance.”
“Only by getting knocked down, beaten, and rising again can you truly build real combat experience.”
Just as he was about to pick a student for sparring, Lan Ling leaned in and whispered something to him.
Lei Jun nodded, then turned his gaze to the back of the crowd—where Bai Zhenzhen stood, hiding.
“Bai Zhenzhen,” he called, “you’ll go first. Set an example for the rest.”
“Lan Ling,” he added, “this girl is the top combat talent in Grade 1. Please guide her well.”
Lan Ling, still spinning the barbell in his right hand, slowly stepped down into the arena. He turned to Bai Zhenzhen with a calm, gentle smile.
“Junior sister,” he said, “let’s spar.”
Bai Zhenzhen’s face darkened. Under the envious stares of her classmates, she stepped forward—her mind already cursing Lan Ling to hell.
“You bastard, you’re definitely up to no good. You’re using this contract issue to settle scores with a junior?”
She knew this wouldn’t be a simple sparring match. He’d use this chance to teach her a brutal lesson.
First strike, decisive!
As soon as she stepped into the ring, she lunged forward—her foot shooting straight toward Lan Ling’s lower abdomen, a critical target.
But Lan Ling didn’t even flinch. He let her strike—thud—right into his stomach.
It was Bai Zhenzhen’s body that felt the impact.
Her foot struck like it had hit granite. Her bones screamed. She almost collapsed.
“Is the gap between us really that big?”
She tried to retreat, but suddenly—her ankle was seized.
A hand like an iron clamp clamped down on her ankle.
Lan Ling smiled. “Junior sister… you’re underestimating me.”
As the fight unfolded, Teacher Lei Jun began giving commentary to the crowd.
“Good ambush! Remember this—stealth attacks are a key skill in combat. The best way to beat stronger opponents.”
“But Bai Zhenzhen clearly doesn’t understand Lan Ling’s background.”
“Lan Ling already underwent the ‘Absolute’ sterilization procedure. His body no longer shows any gender traits. Hormones don’t affect him. Even his normal biological weaknesses—like pain sensitivity, balance, or reflexes—have been erased.”
“Now she’s trapped. She’s kicking and struggling, but Lan Ling’s Physical Strength Level is above Level 6. Her strength? Just 1.4. The moment she’s locked, the match is over.”
Lei Jun’s words were cut short.
With a sudden crack, the ground exploded beneath him. His body shot forward like lightning.
A thunderous boom echoed through the air.
In stunned silence, Bai Zhenzhen was flung violently across the hall—her body trailing afterimages as she slammed into the wall.
But just before her head could collide with the stone, Lei Jun appeared behind her—both of them crashing through the wall in a storm of dust and debris, flying out into the open courtyard beyond.
A moment later, Lei Jun re-entered the hall—limping, dragging Bai Zhenzhen by the arm. His expression was grim.
“…You went too far,” he said, glaring at Lan Ling.
Bai Zhenzhen was one of the top combat students in Grade 1. If she got seriously injured, it would reflect poorly on him.
Lan Ling smiled gently.
“I trust you were watching, Teacher. She’ll be fine.”
“Besides, this is a perfect chance to teach her a lesson—about underestimating opponents in combat.”
He turned to Bai Zhenzhen.
“Junior sister, remember this experience. Shall we continue?”
His invitation hung in the air.
Bai Zhenzhen’s eyes flashed with fury. Deep within her, a dormant power stirred—like a beast on the verge of breaking free.
“No… I can’t reveal it. Not here. If I do, it’s all over.”
Lei Jun stepped forward, ready to intervene—but Lan Ling gave him a single glance.
“Teacher,” he said calmly, “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
Lei Jun had suspected it before. Now he was certain.
He remembered the Student Council’s earlier request—blocking Bai Zhenzhen and Zhang Yu from the Martial Arts Competition.
This was their doing.
Thinking of the Student Council, he could only sigh.
“This is my class,” he warned. “Don’t push it too far.”
Lan Ling smiled again.
“Don’t worry, Teacher. Bai Zhenzhen is a high-value student. I won’t let her get seriously hurt.”
At that moment, the other first-years sensed something was off—but couldn’t pinpoint what.
He Dayou’s eyes flickered. As a board member’s son, he saw it clearly—this was an attempt to suppress Bai Zhenzhen.
Was it about the contract? Were they trying to pressure her?
He felt a pang of regret—Zhang Yu wasn’t here. He’d have loved to see the poor guy’s humiliation.
Just then, a male voice rang out from the entrance.
“Hey… you’re bullying my intern?”
All heads turned.
Zhang Yu stepped through the doorway, his right hand already moving—fingers dancing rapidly across the black-and-white Lushu on his palm.
Juyi Charm—activated!
In an instant, golden sparks erupted around Lan Ling—shimmering into a dozen massive golden hands, reaching out like divine claws.
Before Lan Ling could react, nine of them slammed into his body—his head, shoulders, arms, legs, and waist—all pinned in place.
“Juyi Charm?”
“Zhang Yu… the poor guy… where did he even get a Lushu to cast Juyi Charm?”
Lan Ling felt the golden hands crushing him—pressing him down, inch by inch, as if trying to force him to the ground.
Fury surged through him.
(End of Chapter)
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