The Poor Student Has Too Many Stationery

Qiu Zhenghua lightly stroked his chin, a flicker of a smile crossing his face.

He liked people who were this easy to provoke.

Today's goal: send Xu Zhiming to the hospital.

Brother Yingzong had promised him—as long as he put Xu Zhiming in a hospital bed.

Two million.

He remembered Xu Zhiming had apparently sold his E-grade Visualization Chart qualification.

Over two million?

"Xu Zhiming, give me three million, and I'll hand you the Training Room key."

Xu Zhiming gripped his spear in his right hand.

"The Training Room was mine to begin with. You're nothing but a magpie squatting in another's nest."

Qiu Zhenghua's smile vanished, no longer able to suppress the fury inside him.

He cast a cold glance at Meng Tian.

Did he really think one person's words could scare him?

"Very well, ant. Do you know the price of provoking an elephant?"

Qiu Zhenghua waved his hand, and in the distance, a lackey scurried over, carrying a black longblade.

He reached out, took it, and drew the blade from its sheath.

A flash of cold light.

Qiu Zhenghua plucked a single hair from the head of a nearby underling.

He let it fall gently through the air—the hair severed into two halves.

"You're not worthy of this blade."

Qiu Zhenghua slid the sword back into its sheath.

He waved again, and another male student walked over, holding a blade.

"To beat you, this knife—the one I usually use to slaughter chickens—is enough."

Qiu Zhenghua raised the blade, his demeanor utterly dismissive of Xu Zhiming.

"An E-grade Alloy Weapon. I heard it was Qiu Zhenghua's eighteenth birthday gift, worth over a million."

"Damn, over a million? No wonder that blade looks so sick—cuts a hair on contact, absolutely fire."

"I'm guessing Xu Zhiming can't last more than ten moves against Qiu Zhenghua."

"I think ten's too many. Probably just five."

"If he lasts ten, I'll eat my own shit on the spot."

Xu Zhiming swept his gaze across the crowd, unable to tell who said that.

Too many people here to pinpoint the voice.

"Losers have plenty of toys."

"Need me to wait while you keep pulling out your gadgets?"

Meng Tian froze for a second, then burst out laughing.

"Hahahaha... vivid and on point. That's my bro Xu for you!"

Quite a few students couldn't help laughing either.

Qiu Zhenghua's antics really did give off that vibe—swapping blades back and forth.

Not everyone dared to laugh, though. Only a handful did.

Qiu Zhenghua lost control.

Vitality erupted!

A startling wave of heat radiated outward, like a bonfire blazing.

Behind Qiu Zhenghua, dust was kicked up violently, swirling into the air.

A single slash came down—spear and blade clashed.

Qiu Zhenghua's body jolted, feeling the force transmitted through his hand, and saw Xu Zhiming take a step back.

The smile on his face grew wider.

"I haven't even used a martial skill yet, and you're already retreating? I'll defeat you in ten moves."

Xu Zhiming raised an eyebrow.

He hadn't used a martial skill either.

He was just testing this guy's strength.

His Vitality Quality was twice that of an ordinary person, but his base was too low—still weaker than his opponent, by about ten points.

Qiu Zhenghua dodged Xu Zhiming's straight thrust.

"Too slow, too slow."

"Come on, hit me? Can't land a blow, can you?"

"You really think I didn't look into your background before fighting you?"

"Wind Thunder Fist, sixth layer—you haven't even trained the martial Visualization Diagram. How dare you come fight me?"

"Vitality crush, speed crush, Visualization Diagram crush, martial technique crush."

The more Qiu Zhenghua spoke, the more excited he grew.

He could already see it—Xu Zhiming giving up resistance soon, fists clenched, lips bitten, face full of unwillingness.

Mm, no.

He should be knocked to the ground, face smeared with dirt, a complete mess.

The more Qiu Zhenghua thought about it, the more satisfying it felt.

"Kneel and admit defeat. I'll spare you from injury."

Qiu Zhenghua swung his blade again, this time using a martial technique.

He blasted Xu Zhiming back five or six steps.

"Hahaha... second move."

"I think five moves will be enough to beat you!"

Turning sideways to dodge Xu Zhiming's attack, Qiu Zhenghua's face was full of smiles.

The watching students saw Xu Zhiming retreat.

One after another, they shook their heads.

"Not bad, actually. I'd say his Vitality is around twenty points, and his Vitality Quality is about double."

"But the gap with Qiu Zhenghua is too big. He could be called the fourth strongest in our school."

"Yeah, once he breaks through to Level Ten Martial Artist, Qiu Zhenghua might not be his match anymore."

Zeng Hao grew anxious and said to Wang Hu beside him.

"Teacher Wang Hu, aren't you going to step in and stop them?"

Wang Hu lowered his head, glanced at his right hand wrapped in bandages, gritted his teeth, and steeled his resolve.

"Stop... both of you, no more fighting."

If he got hurt, he could slowly recover. If Xu Zhiming got hurt, it might affect the college entrance exam.

His figure shot out at full speed.

The next moment, Wang Hu stood frozen in place.

Crackle.

Thunderbolt struck Qiu Zhenghua, numbing his entire body.

He gritted his teeth against the pain, activating a speed martial technique to escape Xu Zhiming's attack range.

Three more Thunderbolts fell.

He tried to muster his strength again, but this time the Thunderbolts were even stronger than before.

"Ah..."

The Vitality inside Qiu Zhenghua was scattered, his hair standing on end, the air thick with a burnt smell.

"Hey, look over here."

Qiu Zhenghua followed the voice and looked.

A long spear grew larger and larger in his pupils.

He felt the breath of death.

"No... don't, I am..."

Thwip thwip...

The spear shaft swept horizontally.

Qiu Zhenghua's body flew backward, violently spitting out several mouthfuls of blood midair.

Xu Zhiming walked up to Qiu Zhenghua, holding the long spear, looking down at him.

He stomped one foot onto Qiu Zhenghua's mouth.

Qiu Zhenghua tried to keep struggling.

"Mmph mmph... I..."

Xu Zhiming's voice rang out again.

"Don't move, unless you want your third leg broken."

He saw Xu Zhiming pick up his blade and place it between his legs.

"I... admit..."

Xu Zhiming raised his hand and punched Qiu Zhenghua square in the mouth.

Teeth shattered, instantly letting air whistle through.

"Don't move. I know you recognize me."

Two punches slammed down.

Qiu Zhenghua saw stars; his head felt dizzy.

The next moment.

He felt the fingers of his right hand seized by a tremendous force.

Crack!

"Ah... wo..."

Qiu Zhenghua passed out.

Xu Zhiming released his grip. Qiu Zhenghua's right hand fell to the ground, kicking up dust.

He picked up the long spear he'd swiped from the school's Martial Arts Building and prepared to leave.

His gaze swept past Qiu Zhenghua's left hand.

He paused, turned around.

Reached out and grabbed it.

"Sorry, forgot to keep things symmetrical."

Xu Zhiming applied force.

Crack...

A crisp sound of bone breaking.

Qiu Zhenghua woke up.

Ten fingers linked to the heart; stars swam before his eyes, he couldn't open them at all. His abdomen throbbed with wave after wave of pain, like crashing into a runaway cart.

He stared fixedly at Xu Zhiming.

Why? He'd clearly had the upper hand—how had the situation reversed in an instant?

And Wind Thunder Fist Sixth Level—how could it deal so much damage!

Xu Zhiming's qi and blood were clearly weaker than his.

"Tch, and I thought you were tough. Can't even take one spear from my Brother Xu."

"Loser."

Meng Tian ran up to Qiu Zhenghua and threw out a couple of taunts.

Zeng Hao walked over and spat to the side.

"Xu Zhiming, wait for me. I can still take two more Five Thunder Strikes."

"Me too, me too."

Xu Zhiming laughed heartily.

"One at a time. There's enough for everyone."

On the scene.

Only a crowd of bewildered onlookers remained, all shouting "Holy shit."

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