The rain kept pouring, and the atmosphere was far from harmonious.
On the sports field, Ying Wenshen remained drenched in the rain.
Only, he wasn’t standing anymore—he had moved to the edge of the stage and was now sitting there.
"Ying Wenshen, are you out of your mind? Get back here now!" Jiang Daming’s hoarse shout echoed from the corridor.
The rain was too loud; maybe Ying Wenshen didn’t hear him, or maybe he just couldn’t be bothered to respond.
Jiang Daming cursed under his breath and stomped his foot, realizing it was pointless to argue with such a stubborn mule. He decided to pass the buck instead.
Eventually, Jiang Daming made his way to the teachers’ office, found Chen Xiaoya, and handed the problem over to her before heading off to the badminton court.
As for the rest of Class 8, they had all gone back to grab umbrellas before heading to the badminton court.
Only Lin Mo remained on the corridor, watching the solitary figure sitting with his back to the world, letting the rain soak him.
"He probably thinks he looks unbelievably cool right now," Fang Jun remarked, appearing beside Lin Mo out of nowhere and patting his shoulder. "Come on, let’s go. Why bother with him? Let him put on his little show."
Lin Mo withdrew his gaze, said nothing, and turned to leave.
Whether Ying Wenshen planned to keep playing the drowned rat or sneak off quietly, he couldn’t care less.
After all, Ying Wenshen was already soaked to the bone.
Once Lin Mo left, Ying Wenshen still didn’t move. Raindrops slid from his hair down his cheeks, dripping onto his school uniform.
Before long, Chen Xiaoya appeared on the field, holding an umbrella.
She walked up to the stage but didn’t immediately scold him. Instead, she stood there silently, watching him. The raindrops drummed against the umbrella with a dull rhythm.
"Go to the restroom and wring out your clothes, or you’ll catch a cold."
Ying Wenshen simply lay back, turning the back of his head to Chen Xiaoya in a clear display of passive resistance.
His silent defiance made Chen Xiaoya feel at a loss. She sighed and had no choice but to pull out her trump card.
"If you don’t go back now, I’ll call your parents."
Ying Wenshen sat up, a raindrop rolling off his hair.
Young people’s hair tends to be soft.
Right now, his expression was obscured by the rain.
Still, he managed a grin.
"Whatever. School’s almost over anyway. Just let me enjoy the rain, teacher."
Chen Xiaoya sighed.
"Is there something bothering you? Can’t you talk to me about it?"
Ying Wenshen turned his head, finally looking at Chen Xiaoya properly.
"Nothing much. I just don’t like Lin Mo. Lost a bet to him, so I’m paying up."
Chen Xiaoya kept her umbrella steady as she studied him.
"And why don’t you like him? Did he do something to upset you?"
Ying Wenshen leaned back on his hands, tilting his face up and closing his eyes.
"Well... not really."
Truth was, he did. He resented how Lin Mo effortlessly drew the attention of Jiang Yunlu and Chu Miaomiao, how all the girls in class—and even those from other classes—seemed to adore him.
But he didn’t say any of that.
Chen Xiaoya pressed gently, "Look, Lin Mo helped the class recover the missing funds and even donated a shopping card worth five hundred to the class budget. From any angle, you shouldn’t be picking fights with him."
Ying Wenshen shut his eyes tighter.
"Yeah, yeah. His family’s loaded, his parents must be rolling in money. Of course he doesn’t care about tossing away five hundred. I’m just being pathetic, right?"
The words sent a flare of anger through Chen Xiaoya.
If not for her professionalism as a teacher, she might have thrown her umbrella aside and slapped some sense into him.
But she suppressed the urge, her voice turning colder instead.
"Ying Wenshen, do you think you’re the only one with a tragic backstory just because your parents are divorced?"
Ying Wenshen froze.
"Then tell me—would you trade places with Lin Mo?"
Chen Xiaoya stared at him, enunciating every word.
"His parents passed away when he was in middle school. You say his family’s well-off—so, would you switch lives with him?"
The words exploded in Ying Wenshen’s ears like thunder.
He went completely rigid, his mind blank. The only sounds left were the rain hitting the ground and the umbrella.
All the grievances he’d nursed, all the self-pity he’d weaponized against others, suddenly felt absurd.
Chen Xiaoya knew her students’ backgrounds well. She had called Ying Wenshen’s parents back when his grades slipped, though she’d carefully avoided mentioning his scores to spare his pride.
Ying Wenshen collapsed onto the stage again, raindrops landing on his face.
Chen Xiaoya knew she’d made her point.
"Ying Wenshen, I hope you learn to face yourself honestly and respect others. A person who doesn’t respect others doesn’t deserve respect in return."
"Teacher... just let me stay here for a bit."
Chen Xiaoya sighed.
"About Lin Mo’s family situation—don’t breathe a word to anyone.
That’s his private pain. I told you not to expose it, but to help you see yourself clearly."
With that, Chen Xiaoya turned and walked away, her figure gradually disappearing into the rain.
Ying Wenshen was left alone on the stage.
The field was empty now. He covered his eyes with his arm, his quiet sobs at first stifled, then breaking free, mingling with the rain as he wept openly.
The rain came fiercely but left just as quickly.
As the downpour eased, the sky brightened, clearer than before.
From the second floor, Chen Xiaoya watched Ying Wenshen.
To her, he was never a bad kid—just one who craved attention.
Most teenagers were like that, especially those from broken homes.
But even such kids knew right from wrong.
Ying Wenshen sat up, then dragged his soaked body toward the restroom like a zombie.
By the time he emerged, Chen Xiaoya was waiting in the corridor.
"Teacher..." Ying Wenshen’s clothes were still damp despite wringing them out, and he instinctively shrank back.
Chen Xiaoya held out a large towel.
"Dry yourself. Don’t catch a cold."
"Thanks, teacher." Ying Wenshen took the towel obediently.
He only dabbed at his hair.
"I’ll buy you a new towel, teacher."
"No need. Have you figured things out?"
Ying Wenshen nodded. "Yeah. After class, I’ll apologize to Lin Mo."
"And... I’m sorry, teacher."
He bowed deeply, sincerity etched into the gesture.
Lin Mo withdrew his spiritual sense. In truth, Ying Wenshen later chose the humanities stream and was no longer in Class 8 after the division.
The moment Lin Mo turned away earlier, he’d stopped caring whether Ying Wenshen stayed in the rain.
But through his spiritual sense, he’d noticed details he’d overlooked before.
Like how Chen Xiaoya had braved the rain to reason with Ying Wenshen—even if it meant revealing Lin Mo’s private pain.
Her intentions were good.
And Ying Wenshen, crying in the rain—Lin Mo understood that too.
Right now, he could still cry freely. But once adulthood armored him, he’d never weep so openly again.
Brothers, when was the last time you let yourself cry like that?
The bell rang, signaling the end of class.
Jiang Daming also let out a sigh of relief.
After arriving at the badminton court, he didn’t make the students run laps anymore.
They could do whatever they wanted.
As for Lin Mo, Jiang Daming felt he might have been in the wrong—as a P.E. teacher, he should have listened to the class sports committee member.
No argument there.
After dismissal, Jiang Yunlu stayed behind because she still had training.
Meanwhile, Lin Mo had already received news that the second round of the provincial competition was scheduled for the week after May Day.
So he could take it easy this weekend.
As he packed up the school’s badminton rackets and headed downstairs, he spotted Chu Miaomiao waiting for him at the entrance of the badminton court.
“What’s up?” he asked.
Chu Miaomiao replied, “My mom’s not home today.”
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
e, Immortal Body, Transmigration, System, Progression Fantasy, Academy Setting, Third-Person Perspective. Alternate Title: Transmigrating into a High Martial World and Reading Live Comments. Bad news: I transmigrated. This is a terrifying high-martial world, and my original, pathetically weak body fell into a coma and never woke up. Good news: I got a Popularity Points system upon arrival. I can see live comments and even create an unkillable alternate identity. Starting out, the alternate identity has all stats at 1. The system tells me that to grow stronger, I must participate in the plot, gain popularity points to allocate stats and grow stronger, and ultimately awaken my original body. And so, carrying my original body on my back, I officially entered Huaqing Academy, where the story's protagonist resides. From that moment on, Chen Guan kicked the original plot to pieces. Live Comments: [Doesn't anyone find this mysterious coffin guy creepy? He can summon indescribable grey misty hands.] [Is this guy a hero or a villain? What kind of onion became a spirit?] [By the way, does anyone know who's in the coffin? Shouldn't the debt for saving his life be repaid by now?] [According to unofficial histories, the person in the coffin was Chen Guan's first love. Their love was once passionate and earth-shattering, but they were separated by life and death due to worldly circumstances. What a star-crossed pair.] ... Years later, the world knew of a demon god born from a coffin, shrouded in grey mist, impossible to gaze upon directly. His foremost divine emissary often wielded a scythe, reaping lives like the god of death. As war approached, facing former friends and a boundless sea of enemies, Chen Guan merely raised his scythe. "Would you like to dance as well?"
