Friday was a happy day because the second-to-last class in the afternoon was P.E.
Lin Mo once again had to organize the lineup.
"Attention! Eyes right! Eyes front!"
"Count off!"
"Reporting, Class 8 of Grade 10—one student absent, the remaining 49 present."
Jiang Daming nodded.
"Next, run two laps. Then today, we'll review the 9th Set Radio Calisthenics. Are there any students who haven't learned this routine?"
The class instantly erupted in groans.
Most had learned the 9th Set Radio Calisthenics in middle school.
Who would’ve thought they’d still be doing it in high school?
Lin Mo had nearly forgotten the moves, but with his improved memory now, he could still recall the routine after some thought.
The rest of the class had muscle memory for it too.
"Stop whining. Starting next week, during the morning break, the seniors will do running exercises while you’ll be stuck with calisthenics. Got it?"
By senior year, students only had to run two laps before being dismissed, leaving the freshmen and sophomores to continue the exercises.
That was Guangba’s rule—every school had its own policies.
After two rounds of calisthenics, Jiang Daming finally released Class 8 for free time.
Most of the students gathered in groups anyway.
The reason? The last period was club activity time.
Freshmen and sophomores could join interest clubs—part of the school’s effort to develop students’ extracurricular skills.
Being a top-tier high school, it wasn’t just about academics; they also encouraged well-rounded growth.
There were academic clubs like the Recitation Society, Drama Club, Literature Club, and English Club.
Then there were hobby-based groups like Radio Direction-Finding and Debate Club.
And of course, sports clubs—basketball, soccer, badminton, table tennis—you name it.
Each category had its own niche, and the school provided dedicated spaces for them.
Over at the basketball court, the boys were hyped up, fantasizing about joining the team.
"With my skills, I’ll definitely rep our school and take the national championship!"
"Sorry, but I’m the ace of Shohoku!"
"Should I dye my hair red then?"
They bantered back and forth, unaware that these clubs weren’t open to just anyone. There were tryouts, and only those who met the standards could stay.
As for Lin Mo? In his past life, he’d been cut.
Rejected students had to return to their classrooms for self-study.
Just as Lin Mo took out the equipment, Jiang Yunlu came running over, clutching her badminton racket.
Today, she’d brought her own gear—a carbon-fiber racket with composite string, practically a legendary weapon in a high school setting.
"Lin Mo! Today, I’ll redeem myself!"
The girl’s inner chuunibyou flared up.
Lin Mo figured he had nothing better to do, so he grabbed one of the school’s heavy iron rackets.
Jiang Yunlu’s racket could be lifted with a single finger.
The school’s racket? Pure iron, edges slightly rusted, though the nylon strings were durable.
Against her "legendary blade," his might as well have been a wooden sword.
"Alright, bring it on."
Jiang Yunlu didn’t just use her premium racket—she also brought high-end shuttlecocks costing hundreds per tube.
Rich kids stayed rich kids.
But at this age, most didn’t pay much attention to such things.
Lin Mo played as usual, feeding her easy shots.
Jiang Yunlu, however, stopped going for smashes, and the two fell into a rally, exchanging hits evenly.
The pace quickened steadily.
A small crowd gathered to watch.
Most of the girls who weren’t into sports spectated from the sidelines.
Badminton was surprisingly intense—constant sprinting, jumping, and swinging made it a high-energy workout.
After just over ten minutes, Jiang Yunlu was exhausted.
She hadn’t scored a single point.
Lin Mo was like an unstoppable wall, returning every shot.
Her misses were all due to misjudgment.
"I can’t—I’m done," Jiang Yunlu gasped, racket drooping, cheeks flushed, sweat gluing strands of hair to her face.
"Ten minutes of this felt worse than four whole classes."
She plopped unceremoniously onto the flowerbed ledge, not caring if her pants got dirty.
Seeing this, Lin Mo set his racket down too.
It had been a decent warm-up.
Others, inspired by their intense match, wanted to try badminton next.
As she sat, Jiang Yunlu turned to Lin Mo.
"Are you joining the badminton team? You’d be amazing."
Truth was, Lin Mo knew he’d excel at any sport.
Beating the likes of Ling Dan or Li Zhongwei would be child’s play.
So he shook his head.
"Nah, I’m not going the sports route."
It was clear he could—but no one could force him.
Dissection was off the table, but a physical checkup? That was unavoidable.
Who knew what the results would reveal?
Lin Mo wasn’t willing to take that risk—at least not until he’d fully cultivated his abilities.
He doubted he could survive a nuke yet.
Laying low was the wise path.
Meanwhile, over at the basketball court, a few 3v3 games were still going.
But basketball involved physical contact, and since the players weren’t all that familiar, collisions sometimes sparked tension.
Su Mingzhao knocked a guy named Lin Ziye flat on the court.
Lin Ziye was on the shorter side but quick and agile.
Against Su Mingzhao’s bulk, though, he stood no chance.
One bump sent him flying.
That kind of charging foul was blatant.
Lin Ziye scrambled up, jabbing a finger at Su Mingzhao.
"Are you here to play ball or fight?"
Su Mingzhao cradled the ball, sneering. "Physical play’s part of the game. Can’t handle it? Go home and play with your Barbies."
Lin Ziye stepped forward. "You looking for a fight?!"
His teammates closed in—they’d been middle school buddies and had his back.
Su Mingzhao’s two temporary teammates, however, stayed out of it. They weren’t fans of his attitude anyway.
Unfazed, Su Mingzhao puffed his chest and shoved back.
Jiang Daming’s sharp eyes caught the commotion instantly.
Or rather, he’d been keeping a close watch on the basketball court.
Teenage testosterone was a recipe for disaster.
"Hey! What’s going on?!"
A single bark from him made the near-brawlers scatter.
Fighting wasn’t the issue—doing it in front of a teacher meant possible disciplinary action.
They backed off fast.
Lin Ziye shot Su Mingzhao a final glare.
"Watch yourself."
lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...
ine. During your journey, you save an abandoned baby girl and become her elder brother】 【You rely on each other, becoming each other's support】 【At the end of the simulation, you shield the now-grown girl with your life, sacrificing yourself to block numerous demonic cultivators. You die, and the light in the girl's eyes fades】 …… 【Second Simulation: You are transported to a world where steam and magic coexist】 【You immerse yourself in the study of magic, obsessed with its research. One day, while out, you encounter a half-blooded demon girl wandering the streets. You take her in as your student】 【You teach the demoness what it means to be human, show her the beauty of the world, and nurture her into a miracle that surpasses even the gods】 【At the end of the simulation, you die of old age in front of the nearly immortal demoness due to your mortal lifespan】 …… One simulation after another, one encounter after another. Xu Xi suddenly felt something was off: "Wait, you said you're coming to the real world to find me?"
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
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.
