Chapter Three: An Overt Act

"If Xiaoxue isn't going, what about you, Tiantian?"

Yang Fan chuckled, unbothered, and turned his head to look at Xiaoxue’s desk mate. The girl called Tiantian simply ignored him.

"Sigh, you treat me with indifference today, but tomorrow—"

Just as Yang Fan was about to wax poetic, a tall, slender woman dressed in professional attire with soft, lustrous long hair walked through the door.

"Everyone, settle down. Class is starting. Today, we will review the third chapter of the high school sophomore curriculum: The Blood Python Uprising," the woman at the podium said, tapping the desk as she spoke in a clear, resonant voice.

The bustling noise in the classroom gradually faded, though it remained somewhat chaotic. The woman ignored it and began her lecture.

"Quiet down, everyone! The teacher is speaking. Didn't you hear?"

At that moment, a slightly raspy male voice spoke up. It wasn't loud, but it carried a sense of authority, and the entire classroom fell instantly silent. The pretty teacher at the podium cast a look of gratitude and a sweet smile toward the source of the voice.

Yang Fan curled his lip and mouthed to Zhao Rui, "Show-off. Always trying to cozy up to the teacher."

Zhao Rui shushed him and turned his attention back to the lecture. The boy who had spoken was one of the only two Level 4 martial artists in the class. He came from a family with a deep martial arts heritage and significant influence, and it was rumored he was even involved in some underground dealings. Therefore, whenever he spoke, no one in the class dared to object. No one saw a reason to make an enemy of such a classmate. Of course, the guy wasn't unreasonable and didn't bully others, so the class atmosphere remained decent.

Zhao Rui was currently focused on finishing his studies so he could go to the martial arts hall to test the functions of his system panel; he had no interest in chatting about some tawdry student-teacher romance.

Senior year was primarily about review, and all academic subjects had entered the stage of mock examinations. Zhao Rui had awakened memories of his past life, but his emotions and memories from this life remained intact. Now, with a richer set of experiences and better comprehension, he found that revisiting the textbooks allowed for deeper understanding and greater mastery.

Morning was for academic classes, while the afternoon was reserved for specialized training. As a top-ten high school in the city—formerly the premier school—the faculty and hardware facilities were quite impressive. The school was equipped with a professional martial arts training base, which included a spacious, well-equipped practice hall and meditation rooms with excellent privacy and high safety standards. It also boasted top-tier teachers who had graduated from prestigious institutions or come from professional sports and the military.

These teachers were not only knowledgeable but also possessed formidable strength, with the lowest-ranked being Level 7 martial artists. Martial arts levels are not strictly defined; after all, every discipline has its unique characteristics, making a unified classification impossible. Furthermore, anyone who has cultivated their own martial arts to a deep level usually has a hidden trump card.

Level classifications are generally only used among martial artists who have not yet achieved a full circulation of internal energy or the ability to project their "Gang" energy externally. Beyond that, one cannot simply rely on levels; instead, one must conduct a comprehensive analysis based on internal power, the potency of their martial arts, and combat techniques. Generally, experts who reach this level do not allow others to discern their methods. In martial arts novels, the strength of experts is complex enough, let alone in reality. In short, whether someone is truly strong is only determined through a fight.

Of course, this is only a comparison between peers. If an elderly master with sixty years of power were to fight a young man with ten years of power, the young man would lose even if the master stood perfectly still—not only would he be unable to land a blow, but he might even be injured by the master's rebounding Gang energy.

That was a bit of a digression, but in short, the teachers were highly capable. Being a teacher required extensive knowledge and experience.

As soon as afternoon classes began, the students studying martial arts flocked to the practice hall. After changing into their standard combat gear, they stood in the northwest corner of the hall, arranged in three rows. After a few brief slogans, the instructors led their respective students to their assigned training zones. Because the "martial paths" varied, so did the teachers: there were categories for fists and palms, leg techniques, internal energy, external techniques, weaponry (blades, spears, swords, halberds, hidden weapons, etc.), competitive fighting, and comprehensive styles. There was a vast variety of martial arts schools and complex techniques, so the classifications were naturally numerous.

Why are good schools good? Aside from having teachers with immense personal strength who can teach the real deal, another reason is the sheer volume and range of styles covered, allowing for more targeted and professional instruction.

The school-taught martial art Zhao Rui primarily practiced was called the "Azure Cloud Palm," a palm technique that cultivated both internal and external strength.

"The college entrance exam is getting closer. Many students still haven't met the standards for internal energy cultivation. Please use your time wisely for training, and stop playing on your computers at night..." After the palm technique instructor offered his earnest advice, he ceased his lecturing and began the session.

They practiced body conditioning, enhancing internal energy circulation, and meditative mental cultivation. There was also sparring practice. Today, Zhao Rui chose sparring—for no other reason than to test his system.

"Zhao Rui, let's spar together in a bit, okay?"

Standing next to Zhao Rui in the queue was a tall girl with red lips and white teeth. Her ponytail swayed with youthful gentleness, looking just like the girl next door. Zhao Rui looked at her prominent chest, and involuntarily, an image of her performing martial arts flashed through his mind, causing that "girl-next-door" feeling to vanish instantly.

This girl practiced the "Wing Chun Inquiry," a martial art similar to the Wing Chun of his past life, which prioritized speed and agility. The problem was that this technique involved crossing her arms to protect her chest; if he sparred with her and got even slightly distracted, he’d end up getting a beating. And if he accidentally touched her... sigh.

"Brother declines. Brother is afraid of getting a beating!" Zhao Rui refused decisively; he didn't want to get into trouble without gaining any advantage.

"Zhao Rui, Cui Jian!"

At that moment, the instructor's voice rang out. Zhao Rui shrugged at the girl and hopped onto the ring. The ring was similar to a boxing ring and offered good protection. Both combatants wore simple protective gear to avoid serious injury. The instructor stood nearby, watching the match intently, ready to intervene at the first sign of danger. Their reaction speed and ability to stop a fight were far superior to any referees from his past life.

"When it comes to the college entrance exam, combat competitions don't carry a high weight. You should be spending most of your energy on your specialized and academic courses..." The teacher droned on for a moment before letting Zhao Rui and Cui Jian begin.

Both were classmates and familiar with each other, so they didn't hesitate, taking their stances and engaging. Zhao Rui used the Azure Cloud Palm taught by the school, which was fast, flexible, and focused on swift, clever strikes. Cui Jian practiced the "Thirteen Palms of Taihang," each strike powerful and heavy, like a rampaging bear, with a momentum as deep as an abyss.