Rejecting the Formula

From an adult's perspective, the title was a little chuunibyou. Si Ming hadn't been very fond of it, but Pan De had said a Mohist Knight Guard codename could be changed, so he might as well use it for the time being. Si Ming could only compromise for now. After all, he wasn't strong enough to claim a domineering, wildly cool name.

When Murong Qing heard it, however, a look of longing appeared on her face. "Son of Light! What an incredible title. It looks like you hold a very important position in the organization, and everyone thinks highly of you."

How did you get that out of it? Si Ming thought. He was about to object, but she cut him off. "I know. I won't tell anyone. I'll swallow this secret and keep it in my belly. I'll never interfere with your secret mission."

Her imagination is invincible! Si Ming was at a loss for words. He thought that when she grew up, this conversation would probably become an embarrassing memory she'd lock away forever.

"Oh, right. After my father heard about this, he wanted to thank you in person. I was wondering when you'd be free to have a meal with us?" Murong Qing hurriedly added, "If it would interfere with your secret mission, forget I said anything."

Si Ming had intended to explain, but he noticed that during their few minutes of conversation, quite a few boys from his class and the next had been quietly watching them. Any male creature could understand the meaning behind those looks. Not wanting to get any more entangled, he nodded his agreement.

"Then it's a promise!"

Murong Qing seemed a little excited, less as though she could finally thank her benefactor than as though she could use the chance to ask about the Mohist Knight Guard.

But she quickly composed herself and straightened her face. When she turned around, she was once again the picture of a perfectly serious class monitor, as if they had just been discussing schoolwork.

Chapter 21: Rejecting the Formula

The office at Tange Elementary School.

"Tell me, why did you get into a fight with them this time?"

The homeroom teacher wore a long face as he glared at Ying Zhou, who stood before him with injuries on his face.

"...They were the ones who bullied me first," Ying Zhou answered stiffly.

"Even so, you shouldn't have hit them. If they bullied you, you could have told a teacher. A teacher would have protected you. It was entirely their fault to begin with, but look what happened: now it's a fight, and you're responsible too," the homeroom teacher lectured.

Ying Zhou lowered his head. He didn't want the teacher to see the dismissive look on his face.

What good would telling a teacher do? A teacher could protect him once or twice, but could he protect him for the rest of his life? Besides, after being scolded, the others would only turn around and come after him again. If he didn't fight back, was he supposed to just stand there and take a beating?

"You're responsible for this too. Go back and reflect on it. Why don't they bully the other students? Why do they pick on you? Take a good look at what's wrong with you and write an eight-hundred-character self-criticism when you get back. And you should get your hair cut too. Why does a boy need hair that long? It's a mess, like a thug's. Maybe that's why they came looking for trouble with you."

"...I understand."

Ying Zhou was immensely glad he had long bangs. When he lowered his head, they hid his face from his homeroom teacher: a face full of pent-up anger and ferocity, with nowhere to vent it.

He turned and hurried away, not even bothering to fetch his schoolbag from the classroom. He strode out of the school gates as swiftly as the wind, afraid that if he didn't leave quickly, he might lose control and explode on the spot.

"You say I'm responsible too, but isn't it because their parents have power and influence, while I'm a bastard with no father or mother? You never give me a second glance normally. You only discipline me because you're worried I'll drag down your pay, and you do it grudgingly. What the hell do you think you are? Adults are all the same kind of trash, every last one of them self-righteous, bullying the weak and fearing the strong. They put on such an impressive face in front of kids like me, but the moment they meet someone fiercer than them, they turn into lapdogs crawling on the ground..."

Ying Zhou muttered under his breath as he strode along. Negative emotions filled him from head to toe, practically spilling over. He was like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

One unbearable memory after another flashed through his mind: his mother's screams and pleas, his father's cruel laughter, broken furniture, a lashing whip, a bloodstained blade...

-His father was scum, and the same blood ran in his veins. Sooner or later, he would become just like him.

-The little bastard had a vicious look in his eyes. One glance was enough to tell he was no good. He really was his father's son. He would definitely grow up to be a villain.

-His father had gone to prison, and sooner or later he would follow him in and reunite with his dad. How could there be someone like his father in this world? He hadn't even spared his own wife. To keep him from harming society in the future, he should just kill himself sooner rather than later.

The homeroom teacher's face gradually overlapped with his father's brutal one. A tangle of intensely complicated emotions welled up in Ying Zhou's heart: anger, resentment, fear, hatred, inferiority...

With no outlet, those feelings piled higher and higher. It was as if countless vengeful ghosts were shrieking in his mind, a cacophony echoing endlessly until it nearly drove him mad.

Suddenly, Ying Zhou stopped and looked up at a corner ahead. A kitten that had yet to reach adulthood was there, looking around as it searched for something.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing a savage smile.

"Do teachers in every world love keeping students after class this much?"

Si Ming walked along the street after the sun had set, recalling how his math teacher had used the words "I'll just take a few more minutes" to keep the class for a full half hour. He could only look speechlessly to the heavens.

They had just taken a test yesterday, and today it had already been marked and handed back. Every teacher in this world possessed profound inner power, with vigor and spirit a cut above their counterparts on Earth. Add to that their sharp eyes, which could take in ten lines at a glance, and they truly were the special forces of teachers.

When the papers were handed back, Si Ming had even been singled out for praise, commended for his obvious improvement. In fact, that was after he had deliberately answered several questions wrong, not daring to improve too quickly all at once.

During the week he had spent resting and recovering from his injuries, Si Ming had taken the opportunity to study through his textbooks. Although he had graduated many years ago in his previous life and returned much of his knowledge to his teachers, his foundations were still there. Mathematics and the natural sciences in particular were completely consistent between the two worlds, so he could master them quickly. They were far easier than medicine, which he had never studied, and Chinese, which contained much more Mohist doctrine.

Medicine in the Sea Continent World was extremely advanced. The existence of True Qi and martial arts made scientists in every country place greater emphasis on developing the human body's potential. As a result, compared with Earth's civilization, the Sea Continent had put most of its technology points into biology and medicine.

Solutions had been found for the vast majority of difficult diseases here, including ALS, Parkinson's syndrome, and all sorts of other conditions that sounded troublesome at the mere mention of them. Humanity had long since conquered congenital genetic diseases, leaving only ethical concerns around marriage between close relatives. "German orthopedics" was nearly out of work.

But compared with medicine, other fields lagged far behind, including chemistry, physics, and mathematics. In education, Si Ming found that the material taught in the third year of junior high was about the same level as the second year in his previous life. It might have seemed like a difference of only one year, but in professional fields, it amounted to a full half century.

It was like an inverted pyramid, narrow at the bottom and wide at the top. Remove a small piece from the foundation, and a vast section of the structure above would collapse.

"One step at a time. Sooner or later, I'll change the fixed impression my teachers and classmates have of me and reclaim my status as a study tyrant. Maybe by the end of the term, I can even compete with Murong Qing for the throne of first place in the grade."

In his previous life, Si Ming had been exceptionally good at all kinds of exams. Even when he fooled around in class, he always managed to get impressive scores on tests. The standard of education in this world was roughly on par with the nineties, so perhaps here he could break through the study tyrant realm and reach the higher realm of study god.

Si Ming had been in a pretty good mood lately. He had found a breakthrough in his inner power, his grades were starting to improve, and even his wallet had grown plump thanks to the cultivation funds issued by the Mohist Academy of Science, enough to cover the expense of one Six-Transformation Bear and Snake Pill a day.

It was as though he could see a broad road of hope opening before him. The path might be winding, but the future was destined to be bright.

When Si Ming returned to the orphanage in good spirits and was about to take out his key to open the door, he caught a strange smell.

"This smell... is it blood?"

The scent was extremely faint. If Si Ming hadn't recently cultivated the Blazing Yang Battle Art and sharpened his five senses, he probably wouldn't have been able to make it out.

"Good thing it isn't coming from inside the house, or I'd have to report it to the Mohist Knight Guard... Uh, come to think of it, I'm a Mohist Knight Guard."

Si Ming thought for a moment and decided to fulfill his duty as a Mohist Knight Guard. The admiring look Murong Qing had given him that afternoon had left him a little pleased with himself, and he was full of drive.