https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-81-Song-Hailong-Offered-Me-a-Coaching-Role-Thanks-to-the-Patron-Yutaro-/13686506/
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Chapter 82: Cultivation Technique, Cultivation (Thank You, Honorary Patron Meng Yeyue)
Inside the restaurant.
Lei Jun stood up, saying, “I’ll just say a few words.”
“This year’s Martial Arts Competition brought results far beyond what I ever expected.”
“To be honest, with Songyang’s resources, finishing in the top ten would’ve already made me happy.”
“But this time, Zhang Yu came in first, and Bai Zhenzhen placed fourth—this proves my teaching skills aren’t half bad…”
Seeing Lei Jun’s excited expression, Bai Zhenzhen silently muttered in her mind: So Old Lei can be quite the show-off too.
Old Lei smiled warmly at Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen, then continued: “Of course, Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen—you two played an irreplaceable role.”
“Your martial talent? I’ve taught in Songyang for years, and I’ve never seen such potential. This result? I owe it to the two of you.”
He then pointed toward Zhang Yu, who was already absorbed in practicing Huangniu Zhenhun Xinfa during a rare break: “Look at Zhang Yu—whenever he has a spare moment, he’s training. That kind of diligence and self-discipline? I haven’t seen that in decades.”
Zhang Yu inwardly sighed. If it weren’t for that damn Ritual constantly screaming in his head, who’d want to train while eating and walking?
Lei Jun added: “Lastly, I hope you keep pushing forward. Aim for a university you’ll be proud of.”
After finishing his speech, Old Lei downed a cup of milk tea in one gulp. The table’s mood instantly brightened.
Because Lei Jun was present, Zhao Tianxing felt a bit stiff. He raised his glass and said to Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen: “Yu, A-Zhen—congratulations on your amazing performance.”
Qian Shen gestured toward a dish: “This is their signature dish. You two should try it.”
As the dishes arrived, none of them were ordinary people. Chopsticks flashed like lightning, and the food vanished in seconds—like a storm sweeping through the table.
Just then, Zhang Yu’s phone buzzed.
He pulled it out and saw a message from Zhang Pianpian.
Zhang Pianpian:
Little brother, congratulations on winning first in the Martial Arts Competition. You’re one step closer to your goal.
Don’t forget to pay back the forty grand soon.
Zhang Yu stared at the last line, sighing inwardly: My big sister’s not exactly rolling in cash either…
At that moment, Qian Shen asked curiously: “Le Mulan said something about whether you’d make money or not in the Arena. What did she mean?”
Zhang Yu briefly explained the whole situation with Le Mulan and the 400,000.
Lei Jun, hearing this for the first time, widened his eyes. “So you chose to take first in the Martial Arts Competition? You beat her in the Arena?”
Zhang Yu raised his chin proudly. “A true martial artist doesn’t bow to mere forty thousand.”
Lei Jun pointed at him, shaking his head in dismay. “Foolish! Foolish indeed!”
He thought: You’re not aiming for the Top Ten. Why sacrifice such a high rank?
Aloud, he said: “Can you really compare a Martial Arts Competition first place to 400,000? Money is power, potential, the future. Even if you lose one title, with your talent, that money could help you win more prizes in the coming competitions.”
Zhao Tianxing couldn’t help but mutter: “Ah… 400,000. This first place really cost a fortune.”
Seeing the two of them acting like they’d just lost a fortune, Zhang Yu felt utterly speechless—yet, deep down, he sighed. This is just Kunxu life. Normal, really.
And he knew, in a way, they were right. In the upcoming Sports Competition, the Talisman Contest… money would be crucial—extremely useful.
Just then, Zhang Yu’s phone buzzed again.
He opened it. It was a message from the Martial Arts Competition organizers.
First: The 50,000 reward had already been processed.
Second: He needed to choose his Expert-Level Cultivation Technique from the prize list.
Zhang Yu focused instantly, scanning through the list of available techniques.
As he read, he mentally reviewed the cultivation methods he’d already mastered.
Dao Heart: Tianwu Cultivation of the Heart Scripture.
Martial Energy: Zhou Tian Tuna Fa.
Combat: Wuji Yunshou, Bumu Yinfa—plus the newly acquired Beilong Fanyue Hand.
He already had Expert-Level techniques in Dao Heart, Martial Energy, and combat. The one he needed most—especially for the Physical Fitness Competition in two months—was a Body-Refining Technique.
Though the Tianwu and Zhou Tian Tuna Fa techniques would gradually lose effectiveness as his stats rose, they were still more than sufficient for now.
In contrast, his current Body-Refining technique—Jianti Thirty-Six Forms—was painfully basic.
So he filtered out all the Body-Refining Techniques from the prize list. There were three:
- Longxiang Dali
- Chisui Hunyuanqi
- Yi Jin Huan Mai
But after reviewing them, Zhang Yu couldn’t decide. He turned to Lei Jun.
Lei Jun nodded thoughtfully. “You definitely need a Body-Refining Technique right now.”
As a veteran teacher, even though he didn’t teach physical education, he knew quite a bit about such techniques.
He glanced at the three options Zhang Yu had selected and formed a rough judgment.
“Longxiang Dali,” he said, “is a strength-focused technique. It builds raw power and body mass—ideal for creating a true tank. But it demands heavy use of performance-enhancing drugs. You’d need to inject yourself ten times a day to progress. The result? You’ll end up looking like Song Hailong—massive, durable, a wall on legs.”
Zhang Yu recalled Song Hailong’s towering two-and-a-half-meter frame and nodded in understanding.
“Chisui Hunyuanqi,” Lei Jun continued, “is a balanced technique. It emphasizes internal cultivation—building bone strength, explosive power. Best results come when combined with supplements and proper diet.”
Zhang Yu mentally noted: A hybrid of tank and damage dealer.
“Finally, Yi Jin Huan Mai? Not suitable for you. It focuses on flexibility and body deformation—meant to complement other specialized techniques.”
With that, only Longxiang Dali and Chisui Hunyuanqi remained in the running.
Each had strengths—and flaws. Zhang Yu hesitated.
Lei Jun added: “I’d recommend Longxiang Dali. It’s simpler to learn, and fits better with Songyang’s traditional approach. You can even ask Wang Hai to guide you.”
“Chisui Hunyuanqi? It’s extremely difficult. Without a master’s guidance, you’ll likely fail—and worse, injure yourself. In fact, injuries from this technique? Insurance won’t cover them. It’s considered ‘not eligible’ by policy.”
Suddenly, Zhang Yu’s eyes lit up. “Teacher, how many moves does each technique have?”
Lei Jun paused. “Longxiang Dali? I don’t recall exactly—maybe dozens. But each move is straightforward, step-by-step. Easy to learn.”
“Chisui Hunyuanqi? I remember—just one move. The stance. But don’t be fooled. Every muscle, every joint must work in perfect unison. The difficulty is extreme. And the risk of injury? Very high. Right now, it’s not for you.”
Zhang Yu’s gaze sharpened.
He knew which one to pick.
Without hesitation, he replied to the organizers with his choice.
Moments later, the electronic scroll of Chisui Hunyuanqi and the usage rights arrived on his phone.
Not long after, after finishing their meal, Zhang Yu glanced at the clock—nearly 6:30. Everyone was too tired to go home and shower. So they simply headed straight back to school.
…
Meanwhile, at dawn in Songyang High School.
Zhou Chichen stared at Lan Ling, frowning. “What did you say?”
Lan Ling repeated slowly: “Zhang Yu won first place in the Martial Arts Competition.”
“Zhang Yu? First place?” Zhou Chichen’s voice rose in disbelief. “Didn’t Bailong, Ziyun, or Hongta enter?”
Lan Ling pulled out his phone. “He beat Song Hailong from Bailong High School, then defeated Le Mulan from Ziyun High School. That’s how he claimed first.”
Zhou Chichen took the phone, watching Zhang Yu’s fight footage. After a moment, he looked up, genuinely surprised. “Underdog victory… no—though his stats were lower on paper, in terms of martial skill and real combat performance, he was stronger at the moment of victory.”
“Who would’ve thought… Songyang would produce someone like this.”
“Zhang Pianpian must’ve invested heavily in him—otherwise, he wouldn’t have gotten this far.”
A shadow flickered across Zhou Chichen’s face.
Zhang Yu was supposed to be his.
Now, he’d been snatched away by Zhang Pianpian.
It was like losing a prized project—only to see it grow in value, multiplied, in someone else’s hands.
For a man like Zhou Chichen, losing potential was the same as losing money. And missing out on such a promising prospect? That was a personal loss.
He clenched his jaw, whispering to himself: Six months. Just six more months. I’ll get Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen back. And when I do, I’ll make up every penny I lost—tenfold.
At that moment, Lan Ling reminded him: “About Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen applying to join the Sports Competition Team?”
Zhou Chichen sneered. “Deny it.”
Lan Ling persisted: “Wang Hai really wants them. He’s asked several times.”
“And Zhang Pianpian’s Inspection Team? If we reject without a solid reason, it’ll look bad.”
Zhou Chichen’s eyes narrowed slightly. The thought of Zhang Pianpian returning to Songyang High School—possibly causing another scene, humiliating him again—made his pulse quicken.
He spoke coldly: “The Sports Competition allows five students per school.”
“So tell them this: one month from now, if Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen can rank in the Top Five of the First-Year Physical Fitness Test, they can join. If their stats aren’t good enough? That’s their own fault. Not ours.”
Lan Ling’s eyes flickered. He knew perfectly well that Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen could easily stay in the top five.
Unless… another group of first-years were selected for the Special Training Program, and their physical strength was artificially boosted—surpassing both of them.
Zhou Chichen calculated quickly: “In one month, with their current progress, their Physical Strength Level will reach about 1.8 to 2.1.”
He picked up a student file from his desk. “The first year’s foundation is solid. We’ll bring the five selected students into the Special Training Program early this year.”
“Then, in one month, we’ll use the program to push their Physical Strength Level past 3.0. That way, Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen will be pushed out—no matter how strong they are.”
He looked down at the file: besides Qian Shen, He Dayou, Zhao Tianxing, and the other four first-years, there were over ten second-years—paired, one-to-one, with each first-year.
(End of Chapter)
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