Lin Mo held him like a dead dog, speaking in a calm tone.
"Awake now?"
Lin Mo's voice wasn't loud, but it pierced Su Jiazhen's eardrums like an ice pick.
He was awake—wide awake.
Seeing Lin Mo's composed demeanor, a chill ran down his spine, and he nodded repeatedly.
Lin Mo released his grip, and Su Jiazhen fell to the ground with a thud, kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Alright, explain why Zhang Yuzhong challenged you to a fight."
Hearing that name, Su Jiazhen stiffened visibly. His eyes darted around, and he instinctively braced himself to act tough.
He cleared his throat, trying to sound more confident.
"How should I know? This afternoon, that guy came out of nowhere and challenged me. What was I supposed to do? We’re all part of the same scene—you can’t just back down. So I accepted!"
After speaking, he stole a glance at Lin Mo, gauging his reaction.
From Su Jiazhen’s expression and words, Lin Mo could tell he was lying.
Yet Lin Mo remained silent, simply staring down at him.
His gaze held no anger, no mockery—just an unsettling calm, as if he could see right through everything. That calmness was more suffocating than any rage.
The air seemed to freeze.
One second, two seconds...
Beads of cold sweat trickled down Su Jiazhen’s forehead.
Lin Mo slowly crouched down, meeting Su Jiazhen at eye level.
He reached out and lightly patted Su Jiazhen’s cheek, the gesture almost gentle.
"I’m not a patient man."
His voice was low, barely above a whisper.
"Think carefully before you speak. Don’t make me ask twice."
The icy touch on his cheek sent a shiver through Su Jiazhen, extinguishing any last shred of hope he’d clung to.
His mind raced.
Telling the truth might cost him some pride, but lying could mean more than just humiliation—it could mean a beating.
Su Jiazhen weighed his options.
This was a choice he knew how to make.
Finally, gritting his teeth, he asked, "If I tell you, will you promise not to hit me?"
Su Jiazhen wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly how he measured up against Lin Mo.
There was no way he’d dare provoke him.
"Speak."
Lin Mo stood up, brushing off nonexistent dust from his clothes, his tone indifferent.
"I won’t hit you."
Su Jiazhen exhaled in relief, not daring to hold back any longer.
"Well, it started at noon..."
---
"What’s for lunch?"
Su Jiazhen stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking bored as a few lackeys trailed behind him.
"How about that spicy chicken place?"
"Again?" Su Jiazhen frowned, irritation creeping into his voice. "Is it really that good?"
"It’s amazing! Their chicken comes with ginger-scallion sauce—perfect over rice," one of the lackeys chimed in with a grin. "If you don’t like it, Boss, we can get pork organ soup instead. My treat!"
"If I wanted pork soup, I’d go to the place by the intersection," Su Jiazhen waved him off. "Fine, fine, we’ll go wherever you guys want."
"Sweet!"
With his approval, the group brightened instantly, crowding around Su Jiazhen as they headed to the small eatery.
Su Jiazhen wasn’t the tyrannical type—if his crew liked something, he’d humor them.
They arrived quickly, but someone else had beaten them there. Ignoring the other patron, they placed their order and went upstairs.
On the way up, one lackey suddenly remarked, "Hey, that waiter—isn’t he from Class 8?"
Another, scrolling on his phone, replied absently,
"Yeah, Lin Mo’s Class 8. I heard he’s been working here forever. Shows up right after class for his part-time gig. The boss calls him Zhang Yuzhong."
Su Jiazhen smirked dismissively. "What kind of money can you even make from a job like this?"
"Not bad—15 bucks an hour, plus free meals."
Su Jiazhen couldn’t fathom why anyone would bother.
"Fifteen an hour."
"Can’t even buy a pack of smokes with that."
Chuckling, he pulled out a cigarette, and a lackey promptly handed him a lighter.
Soon, Zhang Yuzhong came upstairs with their orders, setting the trays down efficiently.
"Extra rice is in the back if you need it."
Without another word, he hurried back downstairs.
One of the lackeys scrutinized Zhang Yuzhong’s retreating figure before commenting,
"That Zhang Yuzhong must be dirt poor. Tall and built, but his shoes are patched up like something out of Kung Fu Hustle."
Su Jiazhen raised an eyebrow. "Poor? I heard Lin Mo from Class 8 is some big shot—donating to the Han Lan Foundation. Funny how he’s helping outsiders before his own classmates."
"Damn, Boss, you’ve got a point. I never get why people donate overseas when there’s still poverty here at home."
"Exactly. Lin Mo’s probably just another phony looking for clout."
One lackey clapped in agreement. "Spot on, Boss! The guy’s so full of himself."
"Yeah! Totally!"
As they laughed, Zhang Yuzhong, downstairs, glanced up toward their table.
After the meal, Su Jiazhen and his crew left without a second thought.
Zhang Yuzhong silently watched them go.
When classes resumed after lunch, Zhang Yuzhong, returning from off-campus, found Su Jiazhen smoking in the bathroom.
"Su Jiazhen."
Su Jiazhen turned, recognizing him immediately. He took a long drag before responding.
"What do you want?"
Zhang Yuzhong’s expression didn’t flicker. "After school tonight. The alley behind the back street. I’m fighting you."
Su Jiazhen had been challenged before, but never so bluntly.
Usually, fights came with taunts—Meet me here, or you’re a coward.
This? Just a flat declaration. Su Jiazhen couldn’t help but laugh. "Why? Why should I waste my time on you?"
"If you don’t, I’ll report you for smoking in the bathroom."
Su Jiazhen’s grin froze. Studying the other boy’s dead-serious face, he asked,
"At least tell me why. Give me a reason."
The question surprised even him. Why did he care?
His gaze dropped to Zhang Yuzhong’s shoes.
"Because you insulted Lin Mo. So this fight is happening."
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?!
Cheng's father told him he was getting remarried—to a wealthy woman. Cao Cheng realized his time had finally come: he was about to become a second-generation rich kid. Sure, it might be a watered-down version, but hey, at least he'd have status now, right? The wealthy woman also had four daughters!! Which meant, starting today, Cao Cheng gained four stunning older sisters?? But that wasn't even the whole story... "My name is Cao Cheng—'Cheng' as in 'honest, smooth-talking gentleman'!"
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!
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
