Chapter Forty-Four: I Have an Unreasonable Request

"Let it go?"
Listening to the whispers around him, and seeing the strange looks from some male and female classmates, Lin Anguo grew even more frustrated inside.
He was the Executive Vice Principal, with full control over administration and education in the school; yet here was a mere martial arts instructor, a substitute no less, daring to command him.
Utterly outrageous.
What bothered Lin Anguo most was that Tang Zhixuan's single remark had gained the approval of most students, making it seem as though he had committed some grave error.
Were these people blind? Couldn't they see that Lin Hao had already been badly injured? How cold-hearted, how callous.
His emotions were written all over his face, anger flaring, yet he found himself lacking confidence.
He truly wasn't sure if the woman opposite him would actually draw her sword...
Young people these days were unpredictable, and as a fourth-tier martial artist, she was far beyond anything he could withstand.
But to retreat now would mean the loss of his authority as Vice Principal.
Just as he wrestled with indecision, a voice came from nearby.
"Principal Lin, injuries during student sparring matches are inevitable. In my opinion, Lin Hao's wounds are not incurable—if delayed, they might become more serious, possibly harming his foundation. Why not send him to the hospital for treatment right away? What do you think?"
Director Zhao Dongming, ever mild-mannered, spoke from the platform where he’d sat with minimal presence throughout. Even when Lin Hao and the others had nearly come to blows before, he hadn't risen from his seat.
Now, stepping in to ease the tension, the atmosphere relaxed considerably.
Some people simply possessed a natural affinity; their words carried extra weight and soothed those present.
Lin Anguo glanced down to see his son’s face ashen, blood draining ever faster. He shot an angry glare at Xiao Nan, realizing it was indeed unwise to waste any more time.
As for the boy, as long as he remained in school and still aimed for the entrance exams, there would be plenty of chances to settle the score.
Without another word, he picked up Lin Hao and left, not towards the school infirmary but straight out the gates, destination unknown.
Li Shaohua, standing at a distance, kept his gaze on Tang Zhixuan for a long moment, seemingly pondering that earlier "Moonwave Slash." His eyes were deep, no different from any other boy, unnoticed by all.
After Lin Anguo departed, Li Shaohua found an excuse, said a few words to the classmates beside him, and turned to leave as well.
"All right. Martial artists train for the art of life-and-death combat. Without blood and spirit, how can one face real enemies? In battle, anything can happen.
Principal Lin was simply concerned for his son and lost his composure. Don’t dwell on it."
His words seemed to explain matters to Xiao Nan and the others, to prevent any lingering resentment, but also carried an unstated implication.
"Teacher Tang, shall the martial arts trials proceed as usual?"
"Continue, please. Next group: Wei Yun Yun, Dong Cheng..."

Tang Zhixuan smiled at Zhao Dongming, thinking to herself how skillful the old man was—his actions were subtle yet effective, and with just a few words he had satisfied everyone.
Compared to Lin Anguo, Zhao Dongming was actually better suited to oversee the school’s affairs.
Unfortunately, he lacked financial support and was a step behind others in terms of strength; no matter how capable, this was as far as he could go.
In a world where martial arts had risen, things were no longer as they once were.
The subsequent matches progressed evenly, restoring the peaceful atmosphere from the beginning.
After all, this was not a duel to the death, but an assessment of students’ daily training results. There was no need for an all-out struggle—demonstrating one's abilities sufficed.
Xiao Nan was surprised to find that Wei Yun Yun, the frail class monitor, had excellent fundamental skills.
Her basic sword forms were solid and powerful, clearly practiced thousands of times; each strike carried force through the blade, though lacking in finesse, yet displaying enduring resilience.
She gave the impression of steadiness—steadier than any senior girl in high school.
Dong Cheng, on the other hand, was her complete opposite, darting around the periphery, seeking openings.
His swordplay combined basic techniques with the "Four Seasons Sword," flashy but ineffective. As everyone said, pleasing to watch but lacking real combat power.
He was quickly defeated by Wei Yun Yun.
Nonetheless, Dong Cheng demonstrated his blood condensation and focus skills, passing the test.
Some later participants were of little concern to Xiao Nan, but he paid close attention to Xiong Bing’s sword techniques.
This classmate, nearly two meters tall and broad-shouldered, wielded his sword with rare finesse.
He relied on skill over strength, contrary to his burly appearance.
He and another classmate wrestled for two or three minutes, and only when the crowd grew impatient did he finish the match with a single move.
Xiao Nan shook his head; if Xiong Bing kept training like this, he might waste his natural talent—overthinking everything, squandering his gifts.
Through recent comparisons, Xiao Nan realized that even within the school, martial arts paid close attention to innate foundation, physical quality, and comprehension. Xiong Bing was naturally gifted with exceptional constitution.
If Xiao Nan’s innate vitality measured 0.8, Xiong Bing’s would be at least 1.8 or higher.
If neither had trained, Xiao Nan would not be his equal, not even to one hand—the difference in strength was vast.
With the same blood vitality pills, Xiong Bing’s gains would be greater, and the Divine Intent Body-Tempering technique would be more effective in the early stages.
...
Another twenty minutes passed before the trials concluded. Xiao Nan had watched throughout, gaining considerable insight.

Information from books and memories was always at a remove; now, having seen the school’s aspiring martial artists in action, he had begun to form plans.
He understood where his strengths lay and what needed improvement.
Receiving a blood vitality pill for passing the trial from Director Zhao Dongming, Xiao Nan felt a subtle joy and thanked him before preparing to leave.
"Xiao Nan, come here a moment."
Tang Zhixuan called out with a smile, her curvaceous figure drawing attention as she headed toward the artificial lake.
"Looking for me?" Xiao Nan glanced around, noticing the fiery looks from the surrounding boys—familiar expressions of envy and resentment.
"Is it really that big a deal?"
He felt speechless; it was just a beautiful teacher calling him over for a chat. Yet the atmosphere seemed as though he were about to embark on some romantic escapade with her.
Following behind, Xiao Nan inwardly mocked the others.
No matter the world, people love to compare.
Some compare looks, some family background, some charm, and others care about how they are perceived by those around them.
Of course, in any kind of comparison, being favored by a beauty is always something to be envied.
No one cared what status the object of their secret affection actually held.
"I have an unreasonable request—can you agree to it?"
Tang Zhixuan’s eyes curved into slits, hard to discern what emotions lay within.
Standing by the grassy lakeside, her slender waist and full chest emphasized, left hand gently holding a green sword scabbard at her hip, right hand brushing her short hair behind her ear, she tilted her head to ask the question.
Her voice was soft and delicate, her demeanor especially gentle.
Among all the inexperienced high school girls, such a woman, with expressive eyes and an aura of mature allure, inevitably stirred the imagination of those around her.
But this did not include Xiao Nan.
His first reaction was to raise his guard—unnatural circumstances always hinted at trouble.
This posture—was she up to something mischievous?