The Spirit Realm.
Li Xingyu, keeping watch, had been observing Zhang Yu all along. The moment he saw Zhang Yu's pain level reach 37, he sensed the boy was at his limit.
"At this rate, he's not going to last." He read the parameters flashing above the other's head — heartbeat, breathing, all of it. "He's hit the ceiling of his endurance. He ought to lower the pain level by now."
"As far as this level goes, this is still Level 1 Dao Heart territory, isn't it? Nothing special — so how did he manage to grasp the secret of the Celestial Combat Painting?"
Just as he thought this, the aura of the boy before him abruptly shifted. The twisted grimace relaxed into a savage grin.
"Hm? He held out? This aura feels like... the martial skills on the Celestial Combat Painting?"
Li Xingyu watched, astonished, as Zhang Yu gritted his way, second by second, through the full sixty minutes.
"At this level of willpower, his Dao Heart is about to reach Level 2. He hasn't mastered the painting's martial skills, but the subtle insights he's gleaned from it seem to be sharpening his will. This guy is something — that intel should fetch a decent price."
So Li Xingyu posted Zhang Yu's intel on an intelligence-trading website, priced at one thousand yuan. On reflection, he changed it to ten thousand. The headline read: "SHOCKING! A Peerless Martial Prodigy Emerges at Songyang High School!"
...
Stripping off his Spirit Realm mask, Zhang Yu rose trembling. Even outside the Spirit Realm, he still felt phantom needles piercing his flesh everywhere. On the cot beside him, a student tried to stand, went weak in the knees, and thudded back to the floor. All around, similar scenes unfolded.
One student cracked open his medicine bottle and downed a pill — a Dao Heart Buffer, Zhang Yu guessed.
Techniques like the Basic Heart Refining Method and the Heavenly Martial Heart Refining Art, practiced with matching mental states, could raise one's Dao Heart level bit by bit. But many students still chose Dao Heart Buffers: the drug adjusted neurotransmitters and brain secretions, boosting mood and motivation so willpower built more efficiently.
But Dao Heart Buffers came with a catch. The higher the quality, the stronger the effect — and the more expensive, the more addictive, the more terrifying the withdrawal. Once you started, you had to stay on it for good, or your Dao Heart regressed.
The original Zhang Yu had suffered exactly that: without money to refill, his Dao Heart, once near Level 2, had gone into decline. It wasn't until Zhang Yu, through a string of trials and his delving into the Heavenly Martial Heart Refining Art, felt himself back near that level. And he had no intention of touching the Buffer again. Compared to pills, he now trusted his own potential and discipline.
But there was no time to rest. There was a second exam that morning, and the students hurried off to the next hall.
...
At the Mana Exam hall, the assistant teachers and test equipment were ready. When Zhang Yu's turn came, probing patches were stuck to his arms, chest, and lower abdomen, and he circulated his Mana from his dantian to his palms on command.
This Mana test was far more precise than usual. The patches read not only the total Mana in his body but the efficiency of each circulation — a check against examinees who'd simply bought bulk Mana with money, hiding the lack of quality behind quantity.
Zhang Yu could feel the students were far less nervous here than at the torment of the Dao Heart exam. Each person's Mana level was decided before the exam began; Mana was either there or it wasn't.
When he finished, the assistant teacher recording his data gave a startled grunt and stole a few extra glances. "Is something wrong, teacher?" "Nothing." But in her heart she muttered: *Such high Mana circulation efficiency. Must be another dead-rich kid.*
...
Lunchtime. The cafeteria was full of students shuffling around like zombies. Some hadn't recovered from the Dao Heart exam; some were drowning in worry; some were quietly wondering whether to end it all.
Bai Zhenzhen slumped down with a sigh: "That question setter! The bastard who set this exam has abandoned all shame. Is he going to post a question-review online too, then set his phone to vibrate and shove it up his own pants..."
After two-odd minutes of unbroken cursing, Zhou Tianyi walked over and she paused to eat. Zhang Yu was sure similar curses were drifting over every high school in Songyang City.
Barely seated, Zhou Tianyi blurted: "Have you heard? Students at several high schools jumped off buildings."
Eyes sharpened; both turned to him. "Because the rules for this Dao Heart exam were too harsh. Some students, chasing a high score, cranked their pain level past their limit and blacked out — instantly kicked out of the Spirit Realm, scored a zero. Some, when they came to and couldn't take it, just jumped."
"Zero," Bai Zhenzhen said gloomily. "The ultimate humiliation of high school. From that moment on, you've completely lost your right to survive at school. If it were me, I'd jump too — and land on that question setter."
Zhang Yu asked: "But doesn't that put the question setter in hot water? If one of the jumpers turns out rich, won't their parents come for his head?"
Zhou Tianyi looked at him like he was an idiot. "A rich kid can't die jumping off a school building. Every one of them has paid their security fee. The moment they jump, the school-wide alarm goes off and the guards rescue them. Even if they slam into the ground, the emergency team revives them. If a rich kid wants to die, they'll find another way."
Watching him lay it out so confidently, Zhang Yu had to admit that in this godforsaken Kunxu, it might well be exactly like that.
After eating, Zhang Yu, his Focus cooldown finally over, switched his Feather Book's Focus to the Zhou Tian Qi Gathering Method and ran a few more rounds of breathwork.
Zhou Tian Qi Gathering Method Level 8 (3/160) → (6/160).
---
Before they knew it, the last exam of the afternoon had arrived.
The PE Exam.
In the vast Training Ground, Wang Hai sat in the judges' seats. He and several other first-year PE teachers would grade all the examinees.
His gaze settled on Zhang Yu's name. In his memory, Zhang Yu was a model student — diligent workouts, obedient drugs, dutiful injections. A good attitude, a good drug tolerance. Last month he'd become an observation target, and if he kept it up, Wang Hai didn't mind grooming him into a second Zhao Tianxing, a signature student who'd bring him prestige.
But this month, for reasons unknown, the boy had started challenging his authority in class, even chanting that heretical "Natural Body Forging" slogan. At first Wang Hai suspected he'd found another supplier, that someone wanted the Songyang first-year Elite Class market. But Zhao Tianxing's observations ruled that out.
Then word spread that Zhang Yu had been taken in as a disciple by a Golden Core True Person. Wang Hai might be an ace PE teacher, but he wasn't on term with True Persons. Whether it was true, he couldn't verify.
Ten students stepped onto the platform, baring their muscles, skin plastered with probing patches. Then, with beastlike bellows, their muscles swelled, each vein-knotted mass detonating with alarming power.
Data flashed onto the screen before the judges. Unlike the crude whole-body scans of ordinary days, this was a fine-grained assessment of struggling body parts.
The judges swept their eyes across the examinees, weighing muscle structure, body architecture, explosive output. Physical strength was only one metric; the dimension, size, and structure of every strand of muscle mattered — which was better for exerting force, which more useful in combat, which "live" muscle and which "dead."
Wang Hai was long past being fazed. Ace for decades, he'd seen thousands of pale flabby slabs weighing a couple hundred jin, and plenty of five-hundred-jin behemoths besides.
He scanned, jotted down his scores, and his mind drifted back to Zhang Yu. "Well then, let's have a look at your score. If you crater after three weeks of isolation, that proves you can't be a Golden Core Disciple. And then..."
A glint of coldness flickered in his eyes. Everyone who got in the way of his shipments deserved to be expelled.