The Correct Fist

"Holy shit!" Hyuga Ningyuan felt like his head was splitting open, as if he'd drunk cheap booze.

And his stomach was growling fiercely, like he hadn't eaten in three days and three nights.

The moment he opened his eyes, he quickly reached down and touched a little girl's leg.

"Huh?" Hyuga Ningyuan yanked his hand back, then realized something was off.

Why the hell am I leaning on Yūhi Kurenai!

"You awake?" Yūhi Kurenai whispered.

"I passed out?" Hyuga Ningyuan sat up quickly and asked, "How long was I out?"

"About twenty minutes," Yūhi Kurenai said. "The class isn't even over yet."

"Oh, right." Hyuga Ningyuan rubbed his forehead. Four classes in the morning—did that mean he still had to slog through three more?

He'd starve to death!

He fumbled deeper into his desk and finally found the lunch he'd brought this morning.

It was still warm.

"Keep an eye on the teacher for me," Hyuga Ningyuan whispered, though he knew it was pointless.

As if a Chunin couldn't catch you eating in class?

But hey, call it self-deception.

"Huh?" Yūhi Kurenai blushed. She'd promised her dad she'd study hard and be a good student.

Would this be too much?

But looking at him, he really seemed starving...

"Mm!" She thought it over and decided to help.

After all, how could she let a classmate suffer hunger!

The moment she nodded, Yūhi Kurenai felt a strange thrill.

When you've been a good girl too long, stepping out of line feels extra exciting.

Maybe that's why so many delinquents end up with good girls?

"It's a bit smelly." The food was light, but it still had some scent.

Hyuga Ningyuan didn't want to push it and disturb others' studying.

So he only cracked the lid open a sliver, popped a meatball into his mouth, and settled for a quick bite—class would be over soon anyway.

On the podium, Teruhi Sōun watched it all but directly ignored it.

He'd been on the battlefield; he knew what hunger felt like. Though he didn't get why opening the Byakugan made someone this hungry.

The old Hyuga never had this problem, right?

"Phew." He felt a bit better.

A kid's appetite wasn't big—one meatball down, and at least his stomach stopped hurting.

"This consumption is seriously insane. It drains not just physical energy but mental energy too." Hyuga Ningyuan could feel himself hollow inside, not a drop of energy left.

The kicker was, after burning all that energy, the time he'd spent in Brain Overclocking wasn't long!

Maybe... five seconds?

It seemed like he'd thought through a lot, but that was because his brain's processing speed had accelerated!

"Let's see if the results are worth the cost!" Hyuga Ningyuan recalled what he'd just created. Moments later, a set of dance moves appeared in his mind.

Phoenix Dance of the Nine Heavens, total length 4:30, divided into six dance sections. They weren't individually named because each section fully coordinated hands, eyes, body, steps, and technique—just with different emphases.

The reason it was 4:30 was that Hyuga Ningyuan had subconsciously matched the choreography to the Phoenix Dance of the Nine Heavens music, with the six sections aligning with six musical phrases.

But this dance wasn't set in stone. It could be seen as a comprehensive foundation—pieces could be extracted and varied into many dances, producing different effects with different music!

And it wasn't just a dance; it was also a Taijutsu training method, exercising nearly every part of the body—eyes, hands, legs, abdomen, chest, back, and more.

Overall, the effect was excellent!

Or rather, damn good!

If Hyuga Ningyuan had to choreograph this dance himself, it would take at least three or four years.

Because he'd never touched dance before—he'd have to start from the basics, then practice, summarize, and refine bit by bit.

That was the magic of Brain Overclocking—knowledge extraction and refinement!

"Sure, the cost is high, but the results are insane!" Hyuga Ningyuan marveled. Five seconds' work equaled years of ordinary effort—worth skipping one meal, or even ten or a hundred!

"Ding-a-ling!"

Finally, class ended. Hyuga Ningyuan stopped overthinking, pulled out his bento, and dug in!

"You're eating lunch now?" Yūhi Kurenai asked. "What about your actual lunch?"

"No choice, I'm starving now!!" Hyuga Ningyuan shoved a mouthful of lukewarm rice. The taste was... indescribable.

Just one class period and it's already like this—I can't imagine what the bento will look like after a whole morning.

This kind of culture is downright inhumane. Why can't the school just provide meals?

After wolfing down a box of bento in a few bites, Hyuga Ningyuan thought he heard someone calling his name.

What's going on? Seems like I'm the only Hyuga in this school!

He looked up and saw a kid who was only four or five years old but carried the presence of a forty- or fifty-year-old standing at the classroom door, trying to barge straight in.

But Uchiha Obito blocked him.

"Who are you? You're not in our class!" Obito asked.

"I'm from Class 2!" the kid said. "I'm looking for Hyuga Ningyuan!"

"Hyuga Ningyuan, it's for you!" Obito turned and shouted.

"You're... Sarutobi Asuma?" Hyuga Ningyuan sized up the newcomer. His features were unremarkable, without any distinct marks like the Aburame or Inuzuka, but Ningyuan recognized the crest on him—that cross-shaped pattern was the Sarutobi Clan's emblem.

Locals naturally had to know the clan crests of the major families.

"Good, you know my name!" Asuma said irritably. "What the hell were you spouting during your self-introduction?"

"Uh," Hyuga Ningyuan blinked. "Which part do you mean?"

"'A wife should be Yūhi Kurenai'!" Asuma slammed the table, then suddenly noticed Yūhi Kurenai sitting right next to Hyuga Ningyuan, and his expression twisted even more. "You're sitting together too?"

That's right, Asuma knew Yūhi Kurenai. Before Konoha was founded, the Yūhi Clan were vassals of the Sarutobi Clan. Even though everyone had joined Konoha and the vassal relationship was dissolved, that close bond remained.

Yūhi Shinku's household was just father and daughter, so whenever Yūhi Shinku went on a mission, Yūhi Kurenai would stay with the Sarutobi family.

Asuma and Yūhi Kurenai were childhood friends.

As for whether Asuma had ever thought about taking that childhood friendship further—if he were an Earth kid, probably not, since five-year-olds there were too busy playing to bother with romance.

But kids in the ninja world matured early, so it wasn't out of the question.

Take Hinata, for example—she'd had a crush on Naruto since she was three or four.

"What's wrong with what I said?" Hyuga Ningyuan spread his hands. "I just want to marry Yūhi Kurenai. That's my dream. Or are you going to deny my dream?"

"Uh, well..." Asuma was momentarily speechless.

In Konoha, there was something even more politically correct than the Will of Fire: dreams!

This concept was rooted in the cultural DNA of the Land of Fire and the entire ninja world, even appearing widely in shonen manga.

As for the deeper reasons behind this cultural gene, you'd have to ask Emperor MacArthur and the Japanese.

This isn't a joke—it really was MacArthur's post-war reforms of Japan that led to the lifetime employment system, which in turn sparked Japan's decades-long economic miracle.

The Japanese attributed that miracle to two things: unity and dreams!

The former made the Japanese follow rules, hate outliers and nonconformists, and bully them through isolation.

The latter made the Japanese believe in miracles and dreams.

And these two elements naturally appeared in post-war Japanese cultural works, with protagonists emphasizing them heavily.

Those main characters shouting about bonds, dreams, and defeating the villain boss—that's where it all came from.

Just like how Chinese creators always have protagonists itching to start a revolution, rebel, or wipe out a clan—it's all embedded in the creator's DNA.

If Hyuga Ningyuan had talked to Asuma about the Will of Fire, Asuma might not have cared—he was Hiruzen Sarutobi's rebellious son and didn't believe in that stuff.

But when Ningyuan brought up dreams, Asuma couldn't argue.

Because that was the will of the creator! The very foundation of ninja world culture.

Even if Ningyuan's dream was utterly impossible, no one dared say it out loud.

Because saying a kid's dream couldn't come true was like saying Konoha couldn't fulfill anyone's dreams—it was denying the entire village's reason for existence!

Seeing Asuma's dazed expression, Hyuga Ningyuan smirked.

Kid, trying to mess with me?

This punch of political correctness—can you handle it?

"Looks like you support my dream too!" Hyuga Ningyuan stood up and gave a deep bow. "Thank you!"

"You... I..." Asuma felt something was off but couldn't put it into words. He couldn't advance or retreat, so he just stood at the door with a conflicted look.

When the bell rang, he finally had an out and shouted indignantly, "Hyuga Ningyuan, I'm not giving up!"