Chapter 21: Teacher (Seeking Recommendations)

Looking at Zheng Fa, the curly-haired old man’s expression was hard to describe:

It was a mix of surprise, curiosity, and embarrassment.

Clearly, he had recognized Zheng Fa.

He glanced at the tree branch above Zheng Fa’s head, raised his hand to match the height above his own head, and said cautiously to Zheng Fa:

“Young… master? Is this kung fu?”

“No! I’m practicing high jump!”

“Young master, don’t fool me—I’ve trained high jump too!” the old man said with a hint of pride: “When I was young, I won first prize in track and field at our city’s sports meet! Your movement? That’s not high jump at all!”

“...I just made it up.”

“I get it! Young master, this is a secret art, a hidden sect!” the old man said with an expression of deep understanding: “But look at me—I trained qigong when I was young!”

“You’ve got quite broad interests, old man…”

“Isn’t that the truth? My master back then thought I had the best talent—I just had an accident, or I’d be famous in the martial world by now.”

“Accident?”

“Oh, he got arrested for fraud.”

Zheng Fa: “...”

The old man stared at Zheng Fa and forced a sly, flattering smile onto his wrinkled face: “Young master, I think my master wasn’t lying when he said I had talent—could you maybe see if I’m fit to… learn your art? I’d be willing to become your disciple!”

Zheng Fa felt numb.

“Old man, there’s no kung fu in this world! We must believe in science!”

“Nonsense! Is science really so shallow? True science is about facts—if kung fu exists, then science must study kung fu!” the old man said sternly: “Aren’t I doing scientific research right now?”

Zheng Fa had to admit, the old man had a point.

“How do you plan to research it? Dissect me?”

The old man’s expression turned odd as he scanned Zheng Fa up and down: “I just want to try training it myself—but if you’ve got that demand, I’m not a specialist, but I can find someone to cut you up.”

“No! You know my sect has rules—techniques aren’t passed on lightly.”

“Bah!” the old man complained: “You people are always like this—hoarding secrets, that’s why your arts are dying out!”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Zheng Fa listened to his lecture while walking away.

The old man, seeing Zheng Fa had no interest in further discussion, stayed put—but his gaze lingered with unmistakable reluctance.

By afternoon, the classroom atmosphere grew restless.

Qing Shui Middle School’s senior class had no weekend off.

Zheng Fa and his classmates got two days off every two weeks: released Friday night, returning Sunday night for evening self-study.

Friday nights were the most exciting for students—many day students chose to hang out before heading home.

“Zheng Fa! Let’s play basketball after school!”

Wang Chen invited Zheng Fa.

Zheng Fa wasn’t good at basketball, but he was tall and had strong stamina from years of farm work—he wasn’t the weakest in the class.

“No, I’ve got plans.”

Zheng Fa glanced at Tang Lingwumin in the front row.

“Plans? With who?” Wang Chen blinked—he’d never seen Zheng Fa have any close friends since childhood.

Following Zheng Fa’s gaze, he looked at Tang Lingwumin.

“Tang Lingwumin!” Zheng Fa had never seen such a complex expression on Wang Chen’s face.

If you had to describe it, it was something like gritted-teeth blessing.

“I saw you doing nothing for days, and now you’re pulling off something this big?”

“...She invited me.”

“Godfather, I want to learn this!”

Hearing him call him “Godfather,” Zheng Fa knew the kid truly believed…

“Trust me, girls love this!”

At the milk tea shop entrance, Wang Chen urged Zheng Fa with firm conviction.

“Let me explain again—I just want to show my gratitude.”

Zheng Fa tried to explain.

After all, Tang Lingwumin had taken him to meet her teacher—he owed her thanks, morally and emotionally.

But he’d never really interacted with girls his age in this world.

He asked Wang Chen, who brought him to the milk tea shop by the school gate.

The shop was indeed popular, especially on Fridays, when many girls bought milk tea there.

But Zheng Fa had never been.

A milk tea costing over ten yuan still felt a bit extravagant to him.

“Give me your shop’s most popular one.”

Not knowing which was good, he told the clerk.

He didn’t know if it was popular, but it was clearly one of the pricier options—the 28-yuan price made him feel ripped off.

Tang Lingwumin had arranged to meet Zheng Fa near the staff housing complex.

Zheng Fa arrived first; Tang Lingwumin showed up nearly half an hour later.

“Sorry, my family needed me for something,” Tang Lingwumin apologized the moment she saw Zheng Fa.

“It’s fine, I haven’t waited long.”

Zheng Fa had noticed a black sedan following Tang Lingwumin from around the corner.

He knew nothing about cars, but from his simple sense of aesthetics, the flashy vehicle looked expensive.

“This way.”

Tang Lingwumin led the way; Zheng Fa held out the milk tea toward her.

“Here, this is for you.”

Tang Lingwumin silently shot him a questioning look.

“Just for taking me here.”

Tang Lingwumin nodded, signaling she understood—but kept her hands crossed in front of her chest: “I appreciate the gesture, but I won’t take the milk tea.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t drink milk tea—it’s unhealthy.”

Zheng Fa regretted it—wasting 28 yuan!

He should’ve asked Tang Lingwumin first.

But since she refused, he didn’t force it—he just planned to drink it himself later.

Qing Shui Middle School had eight teaching buildings.

Tang Lingwumin led Zheng Fa into the most remote one; as soon as they entered the hallway, she stopped and extended her hand toward him.

Zheng Fa looked at her five slender fingers.

Then at the milk tea in his hand.

Quietly placed the plastic bag into her palm.

Tang Lingwumin didn’t move—she stood in the hallway and eagerly took a long, deep sip.

“Isn’t it unhealthy?”

“Are you stupid? My mom’s watching from the car!” Tang Lingwumin rolled her eyes: “I don’t drink it because my mom forbids it!”

Got it.

That hand gesture was just acting.

“Wait a sec—I’ll finish this, then we go up!” Clearly, Tang Lingwumin had plenty of experience in these battles.

As she happily gulped down the milk tea, she told Zheng Fa:

“My competition teacher is probably a distant uncle—I know him through my mom, and she won’t let him see me drinking milk tea.”

“Is he also a teacher here?”

Zheng Fa assumed he lived at Qing Shui Middle School.

“No, his daughter works here—he’s retired. He used to be a university professor, and I think he was once on the Olympiad question-setting team.”

“Sounds impressive.”

“Yeah, my mom went through a lot to get him to agree—though he’s called a distant uncle, we barely knew each other before,” Tang Lingwumin said, pausing.

Zheng Fa looked at her face, holding back a thought.

Clearly, your family is pretty powerful too.