The first year of high school is a special phase.
There are evening self-study sessions, but they’re shorter compared to the second and third years.
There are three physical education classes—one more than the second year and far more than the third year.
Overall, the first year is the freest period of high school.
The second year is relatively free.
The third year? That’s a sprint toward freedom.
Physical education class.
Five classes occupy different corners of the sports field.
Usually, these five classes have little interaction during P.E.
After all, they aren’t familiar with each other, and there’s no reason to mingle.
Unless the P.E. teachers suddenly get inspired and organize some inter-class competition to stir up rivalry and tension.
But during free activity time, people start moving around.
Like right now.
Lin Mo, having retrieved some equipment, casually sits on the podium, legs dangling in the air.
The air on the field is fresh, and the spiritual energy here is far denser than in the cramped urban village.
So Lin Mo quietly absorbs the energy of heaven and earth, continuing his cultivation.
Over at the badminton courts, Jiang Yunlu is playing a match, with Chu Miaomiao and Wang Qin sitting on the sidelines like cheerleaders.
In their class, aside from Lin Mo, Jiang Yunlu is the best badminton player.
Meanwhile, the basketball courts are lively too.
But the real crowd gathers around the soccer field.
Students from all five classes who love soccer have come together.
Soccer requires a bigger field and more players.
One or two classes alone can’t field a full team, but with five classes combined, it’s easy.
There’s even an occasional cheer squad on the sidelines.
Though it’s all pickup games, the enthusiasm is undeniable.
Lin Mo meditates with his eyes closed.
But barely ten minutes pass before someone rushes over in a panic.
"Lin Mo! We need your help!"
Lin Mo opens his eyes to see Fang Jun looking at him, visibly agitated.
"What’s wrong?" Lin Mo doesn’t bother using his divine sense—the field is too vast, and his current range of fifty meters wouldn’t help much.
"Old An got into a fight with someone. Everyone’s trying to break it up."
Lin Mo hops down from the podium and glances toward the soccer field, where a crowd has gathered.
"Explain properly. What happened?"
"Nothing too serious. Just soccer stuff. There were cheerleaders from a few classes on the sidelines. Old An scored a goal, went off to drink water, and struck up a conversation with a girl from Class Fifteen, asking for her contact info. She was fine with it.
But then some guy from Class Fifteen got pissed."
Old An’s full name is An Yuexin—Fang Jun’s longtime friend and one of the more handsome guys in their class. Not as good-looking as Gao Yuanqiang, but also not as much of a jerk.
Lin Mo quickly pieces it together.
"So, a guy asked, a girl agreed, and some simp couldn’t handle it."
Lin Mo strides toward the commotion.
Fang Jun nods vigorously beside him.
By now, the two have already been separated.
An Yuexin has a bruise on his face.
He was sucker-punched before he could react, and by the time he processed it, others had already pulled them apart.
"I asked for her number, and she gave it. What’s it to you?!"
An Yuexin isn’t used to taking hits without retaliation.
His classmates from Class Eight are holding him back.
If this escalates into a full-on fight, An Yuexin could end up with a major disciplinary mark.
But on the other side, one of the peacemakers speaks up.
"You’re proud of stealing someone’s girlfriend? Or is your dad the type who snatches other men’s wives to be your mom?"
The speaker is clearly a friend of the guy who threw the punch.
Friends stand by each other unconditionally.
So no matter what, he’ll defend his own.
Zhou Ming glares at Wang Zhenji, who’s being shielded by his classmates, convinced he’s in the right.
Wang Zhenji, having landed his cheap shot, smirks provocatively at An Yuexin.
"Go cry to the teachers if you want! Tell them you got hit for hitting on another class’s girl!"
His taunt isn’t baseless.
Snitching to teachers is a surefire way to earn everyone’s contempt.
An Yuexin snaps. "Then fight me one-on-one, you coward!"
"Enough."
A cold voice cuts through the noise.
Everyone turns toward the sound.
The crowd parts, revealing Lin Mo walking toward them.
This incident never happened in his past life—somehow, Lin Mo’s butterfly effect altered events.
Lin Mo’s gaze sweeps over both groups.
The Class Fifteen boys visibly tense under his scrutiny.
Even Wang Zhenji drops his arrogant smirk.
"Where’s the girl?"
Lin Mo scans the crowd.
Fang Jun immediately points out a girl trying to hide.
"That’s her! I recognize her!"
Lin Mo beckons her over.
"Come here for a second, would you?"
His tone isn’t harsh, but it’s far from gentle.
The commanding edge in his voice instantly puts the Class Fifteen boys on edge.
"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Zhou Ming, at least, has some nerve.
He isn’t afraid of Lin Mo.
Lin Mo turns to him. "Problem? I’m just asking the person involved. You brought up her dad stealing wives—shouldn’t I confirm if she’s actually involved with the guy who threw the punch?"
Then he looks back at the girl.
"You two aren’t together, right?"
He points at Wang Zhenji.
Wang Zhenji’s lips press into a thin line, fists clenched, eyes flickering with unease.
Lin Mo doesn’t know their exact relationship, but he’ll clarify it first.
The girl hesitates under Lin Mo’s impassive stare.
But a ponytailed girl beside her—sharp-eyed and bold—snorts.
"Xiaolin has nothing to do with him. At most, they’re classmates."
Lin Mo nods and turns back to Zhou Ming.
"See? They’re not together. So was An Yuexin stealing your wife? Why so worked up?"
Zhou Ming’s temper flares.
"Stop acting all high and mighty, asshole!"
He charges at Lin Mo.
The next second, he’s airborne.
He skids across the grass for at least two meters.
Lin Mo glances around. "Everyone saw that, right? He cursed at me and attacked first. Self-defense."
The Class Fifteen boys fall silent.
The Class Eight boys barely contain their excitement, shouting, "Yeah, that was self-defense!"
Then, out of nowhere, Wang Zhenji lunges from the side, aiming a kick at Lin Mo.
But Lin Mo sidesteps effortlessly.
With a swift motion, he sweeps Wang Zhenji’s standing leg.
Wang Zhenji crashes to the ground.
"Just for this cheap shot, I could beat you to a pulp, and no one would blame me. Got it?"
Lin Mo kicks again, forcing Wang Zhenji into a full split.
A loud rip echoes.
His uniform splits right down the middle.