Chapter 20

Wang Chen’s words made Zheng Fa begin to ponder whether these patterns had something to do with math competitions.

“Does anyone in our class do competitions?”

“Our class?” Wang Chen gave him a strange look: “At Qing Shui Middle School, there aren’t even a few students who do competitions! That’s a field only top provincial high schools can touch!”

Qing Shui Middle School was actually quite decent in the city.

Every year, one or two students would make it to elite universities, but provincial key schools? That was still out of reach.

“But I heard Tang Lingwumin is secretly studying for competitions.”

Zheng Fa’s gaze involuntarily turned toward the front of the classroom.

Sitting in the first row near the podium, a girl with a ponytail was propping her cheek as she read; morning light slanted through the front door, illuminating her profile and fingers, making her look youthful and refined.

Tang Lingwumin, the class’s top powerhouse, three-time consecutive top scorer in all subjects, a strong contender for school-wide first place, Teacher Chen’s favorite, the undisputed queen of the class without any official title.

Though her face was undeniably captivating, few boys dared act boldly around her—there had already been brave souls who proved that insulting Teacher Chen’s baldness might not get you killed, but if you dared harbor improper thoughts toward Tang Lingwumin…

Sorry, we’ve got a full-service package: seat reassignment and parental involvement to ensure your repentance.

“First love is normal, but when a swan is flying high, why should a toad flail around on the ground?”

Teacher Chen’s words nearly made the boy cry.

Ever since then, the air around Tang Lingwumin had become quiet and studious.

Yet, despite Teacher Chen’s special treatment, she remained somewhat isolated in class, appearing to have few friends.

Zheng Fa picked up his drawn patterns and walked toward Tang Lingwumin.

“Big brother, you’re really brave!” Wang Chen gasped, blocking Zheng Fa: “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to ask Tang Lingwumin.”

Zheng Fa brushed off Wang Chen’s arm and stepped beside Tang Lingwumin’s desk.

“Tang Lingwumin, could I bother you for a moment?”

Not just Wang Chen, other classmates also glanced toward them, intentionally or not.

Since that boy who expressed interest in Tang Lingwumin had been harshly punished, no student—especially no male student—had dared approach her without reason.

Tang Lingwumin put down her book, turned her head toward Zheng Fa, her face clearly conveying one message: You’ve already disturbed me.

“I want to ask you—are you preparing for the math competition?”

Tang Lingwumin nodded.

“Then… are these patterns something that might appear in the competition?”

Zheng Fa placed several drawings before Tang Lingwumin.

Tang Lingwumin frowned, studying the patterns, then gave a slight shake of her head.

“Not them?”

“You might have a misunderstanding about math competitions,” Tang Lingwumin explained, seeing his disappointment: “For example, these geometric shapes do appear, but they always come with problems and questions—they’re never just isolated diagrams.”

Zheng Fa suddenly understood.

Even the college entrance exam wouldn’t just give you a diagram.

What could you possibly deduce from that?

“Still, these geometric shapes probably follow certain patterns,” Tang Lingwumin added, studying them more closely and frowning: “Maybe the person who drew them had their own intentions, but I can’t see them.”

“I see…”

More than trusting his own intelligence, Zheng Fa trusted the top student Tang Lingwumin.

“Maybe my competition teacher will understand better.”

Zheng Fa perked up and couldn’t help asking boldly: “Could you ask your teacher?”

He wasn’t close to Tang Lingwumin, but at this moment, he couldn’t help being forward.

After all, he knew clearly that Gao Yuan wanted to understand these drawings to keep his pageboy position.

In fact, Zheng Fa needed that position even more.

Gao Yuan had at least a butler father waiting at home.

If he was sent back, his family’s newly improving fortunes might plummet overnight.

If there was even a glimmer of hope, Zheng Fa was willing to swallow his pride.

Tang Lingwumin regarded him quietly for a moment, then slowly nodded: “Actually, my competition teacher lives at Qing Shui Middle School—I go to his house every weekend for tutoring. I’ll bring you along to ask him then.”

“Bring me?”

“I don’t even know what you want to ask—wouldn’t it be better if you went yourself?”

When Zheng Fa returned to his seat, he still felt Tang Lingwumin wasn’t as cold as she appeared.

“Bro, what did you say to her?”

“You know—just asked about these drawings.”

“You’re really… just for these drawings?” Wang Chen’s expression suddenly turned lewd.

“What else?”

“Didn’t you just randomly pick up a few drawings and use them to talk to her?”

Wang Chen grew more serious, even convincing himself.

Zheng Fa shook his head: “You’re mistaken.”

“It’s not just you who’s mistaken—it’s everyone who’s assuming the same thing.”

Wang Chen smirked; sure enough, several nearby classmates were smirking at him with ambiguous, almost respectful glances.

Zheng Fa felt slightly helpless—among high schoolers, seeing a boy and girl talking often sparked gossip; whether true or not, they just loved it.

Especially when it involved Tang Lingwumin.

“Forget it—I can’t control what they think, but it’s not true.”

Compared to these classmates, Zheng Fa had heavier matters on his mind—he had no room for romance.

“They don’t care, but…” Wang Chen pointed toward the door: “Teacher Chen seems to have misunderstood too.”

Zheng Fa looked up—Teacher Chen stood stiff-faced at the front door, his gaze like a spotlight, fixed unblinkingly on Zheng Fa’s face.

…

In the following days, Zheng Fa quietly attended class, striving to appear utterly focused.

Meanwhile, every morning he woke up an hour early to practice the Songhe Stance.

He dared not go to the park—he found a spot behind the Qing Shui Middle School staff dormitory.

The spot lay in a corner of the school wall, hidden by several old trees; when Zheng Fa trained there, he was hard to spot unless someone deliberately looked.

Added to that, he woke extremely early—finishing his stance by six, when most people were still asleep.

So for several days straight, no one noticed him training.

On Friday morning, Zheng Fa remained immersed in the warm current within his body.

Since Xu the Instructor taught him the Songhe Stance, he had trained for nearly a week—across both the Xuanwei Realm and modern times.

At first, the warm current was faint and uncontrollable.

Later, with each breath, he could sense it.

Today, during training, the current no longer vanished—it felt continuous, unbroken.

“I’ve truly entered the threshold!”

Xu the Instructor had once told them that when the warm current flowed like a thread, circling the waist, abdomen, and hips, that was when the Songhe Stance was truly mastered.

This was exactly how he felt now!

After lowering his stance, Zheng Fa immediately sensed the difference.

Beyond the usual hunger after daily training, his waist and abdomen felt warm, giving him the illusion that his hips and thighs were brimming with immense, ready-to-release power.

Zheng Fa glanced around—no one was nearby. He crouched.

With all his strength… leapt!

“Whoosh!”

“Ow!”

Zheng Fa felt his thighs acted like springs, launching him straight into the air!

Branches and leaves cracked against his face.

His head even burst through the tree canopy—over three meters high!

When Zheng Fa landed, still dazed, he clutched his chest and exclaimed:

“Holy shit!”

No—that wasn’t his voice.

Zheng Fa looked up—the curly-haired old man from the park was staring at him, dumbfounded.