Chapter 12: Win Half a Move Against Heaven

“Fang Yifan!!!”

Before Li Tiegun could explode, Fang Yifan’s mother—who had just been scolding Li Tiegun for “Why did you let him take photos?”—burst out in fury, roaring and charging over.

Fang Yifan reacted instinctively, forgetting his discomfort, and bolted off on the spot, shouting, “Mom, why are you chasing me?!”

Under the gaze of everyone, the mother and son played out a chase scene, turning the college entrance exam motivational rally into a farce.

Li Tiegun’s face turned ashen, dripping with rage; he rubbed his aching arm and shouted for Fang Yifan’s mother and Fang Yifan to stop, but seeing it had no effect, he walked to the principal and complained: “Principal, do you still think my earlier suggestion was wrong?”

“Teacher Li, are you hurt?” The principal was also displeased—he had firmly rejected Li Tiegun’s utilitarian “stay-back-class” proposal earlier, and now, with Fang Yifan making such a public spectacle, he couldn’t be happy either. But principles were non-negotiable; he could only change the subject.

After all the commotion, under the supervision of Li Tiegun’s sycophant Pan Shuai, the college entrance exam motivational rally resumed and moved into the balloon-release segment.

“Now, let’s write our college entrance exam wishes on these balloons and release our hopes and dreams together. Parents and students, please form families and each take one balloon. Marking pens are available on both sides of the podium—please line up to collect them.”

He Chen and Du Tiantian walked together toward Class 3-2 to meet Ruan Liuzheng and Aunt Ruan, and Du Tiantian’s aunt, Du Xiaoqing, followed along.

Nearby, Qian Sanyi’s mother accompanied him, and Lin Miaomiao’s parents, pulled over from the liberal arts class by Lin Miaomiao, were also present.

“Kid, you’ve trained before?” Qiao Yingzi’s father, who had been shooed aside by his ex-wife—Qiao Yingzi’s mother—felt awkward, but upon seeing He Chen, couldn’t help but praise him curiously.

“This is the Sunflower Spotting Hand, best at creating miracles in human medical history~” He Chen, seeing his face—once the cheerful Lao Bai from My Own Swordsman, now aged but still radiating cheerfulness—couldn’t resist raising a finger in gesture.

“Naughty!” Qiao Yingzi’s father instantly understood, his smile stretching wider than an AK’s recoil: “You think I look like that actor from My Own Swordsman?”

“Let me tell you, I’m not bragging—when My Own Swordsman was hot a few years back, I was young, and everywhere I went, people called me ‘Thief Saint’ or ‘Lao Bai,’ begging me for autographs!”

“I can see it, I can see it.” He Chen, amused by his smug little expression, grinned mischievously: “Do you know who taught me this move? My Aunt Wang Shengnan—she’s a college PE teacher, and since childhood, she formally studied traditional martial arts.”

He pointed over there: “Look, she’s coming!”

Qiao Yingzi’s father turned to look—and gasped in surprise, studied her closely, then turned back to He Chen and chuckled bitterly: “You little rascal, you’re really teasing me!”

That’s right!

If he claimed to be Lao Bai from My Own Swordsman, then Lin Miaomiao’s mother, Wang Shengnan, was none other than Lao Bai’s beloved, Madame Tong Xiangyu.

Now both were parents with children—he, though divorced, had lived for years with a young yoga instructor, and “Madame Tong” was also a married woman.

Being teased like this by his daughter’s classmate, he truly couldn’t respond.

He Chen stopped there—otherwise, if he truly ignited the flame between them, it would be his fault.

At this moment, everyone had gathered in family groups; Qiao Yingzi called out to her father, and the middle-aged Lao Bai hurried over, beaming.

“Dad, do you know He Chen?” Qiao Yingzi asked curiously.

“Just met him—he’s a funny kid.” Qiao Weidong, a devoted father, seeing his daughter interested, happily recounted his exchange with He Chen.

“He really is funny.” Qiao Yingzi nodded, recalling the chain of events sparked by his “humor,” agreeing with her father’s assessment.

“Yingzi, we’re at a critical moment—can’t afford to be distracted.” Qiao Weidong immediately grew wary, thinking of He Chen’s face, unmatched even in his own youthful prime, and gave a subtle warning.

“Dad, what are you talking about!” Qiao Yingzi snapped: “I’m under so much pressure every day—how could I possibly think about that?”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry—I’m here, I’ll make sure you get some relaxation.” Qiao Weidong understood his ex-wife’s iron-fisted parenting and looked at his daughter with pity.

Then Qiao Yingzi was called over by her mother, and Qiao Weidong hurried after her, hearing his ex-wife scolding: “What were you talking to him about? He Chen? Qiao Weidong, are you trying to die?!

Yuan Fang didn’t tell you he’s a demon who runs wild, all greasy hair and powdered face—clearly no good! You’re not supposed to protect your daughter from him—you’re not supposed to even talk to her about him! What are you trying to do?!”

Qiao Weidong was scolded like a grandson, yet had no reply.

He knew why his ex-wife acted this way: first, she was a teacher herself—once a famous teacher at Chunfeng Middle School, now running private tutoring—and naturally disliked He Chen for daring to defy teachers.

Second, He Chen was stunningly handsome, rivaling his own youthful peak—this triggered her deep-seated resentment toward him for his infidelity, and she feared he’d stir her daughter’s heart.

And let’s not forget: Fang Yifan, the target of He Chen’s actions, was her best friend’s son—the kind of “family-first, logic-second” loyalty that only those who’ve lived it truly understand.

Qiao Yingzi felt utterly humiliated, covering her forehead with her hands, wishing she could vanish into the ground.

Especially when she saw He Chen glance over in their direction—she feared he’d heard her mother’s vicious remarks—and she growled at her mother, finally making her stop.

And her fear was not unfounded.

He Chen’s senses were now sharp—he’d heard every word, but he had no time to deal with it now; he quietly filed it away.

At this moment, he stood surrounded by Ruan Liuzheng and Ruan Lu, a balloon between them; Ruan Liuzheng handed He Chen the marker: “You write first!”

He Chen didn’t refuse, took it, and without hesitation wrote four characters.

“Crane’s Age, Turtle’s Longevity?” Ruan Liuzheng glanced and rolled her eyes—she thought he’d truly gone mad, obsessed with this all day long.

He Chen ignored her eye-roll and handed the marker back to her.

Writing wishes on balloons was meant to release one’s most beautiful dream at this moment—and his most beautiful dream now was to fully transform “Crane’s Age, Turtle’s Longevity” into his innate divine art, nothing else.

Ruan Liuzheng took it, thought for a moment, and wrote out of his sight: “Peking University Medical School.”

After writing, she glanced at her mother, saw her nodding with a smile, and happily passed the marker on: “Mom, you write one too.”

“Alright.” Ruan Lu didn’t refuse, took the marker, and like He Chen, wrote four characters without hesitation.

“Win Half a Move Against Heaven!”