Morals Have Declined!

Li Mu Yang was a kind person. From childhood to adulthood, he had never bullied anyone.

In his memory, he had never done anything like that—not even once.

Moreover, he had always been bullied by others. Just how great a contribution had that made toward reducing juvenile crime in the Empire?

If those energetic, hot-blooded youths hadn't bullied and vented their frustrations on him whenever they had nothing better to do every day, they might have done even more extreme and terrifying things to someone else.

Thus, Li Mu Yang couldn't help but think of that question again—how could a man as angelic as him have been struck by lightning?

Being struck by lightning had always rankled Li Mu Yang, giving rise to an intense sense of inferiority from the depths of his soul.

Just think about it: Haotian had only just sent you into this world before regretting it so deeply that he tried to strike you back out of it. Wouldn't anyone feel insulted in that situation?

It was precisely because he had been struck by lightning that Li Mu Yang's body had been terribly weak from birth.

Other people's children grew up soaking in honey jars. Li Mu Yang had grown up soaking in medicine jars.

From the moment he had first become capable of remembering things, an old Daoist priest who looked like a wandering physician often came to his home.

Year after year, he wore a filthy Daoist robe. The sleeves were greasy, as if he had hidden a roasted chicken inside them. Every time he came, he carried in a huge bundle of medicinal herbs, burrowed into the kitchen and busied himself for a while, then brought out a bowl of Chinese medicine even more disgusting than his sleeves and forced Li Mu Yang to drink it.

At first, Li Mu Yang had refused, but the old Daoist hadn't forced him. After snapping his fingers, Li Mu Yang had foolishly taken the bowl himself and drunk it—

Li Mu Yang had always felt terrible about doing such a thing, but when he was young and ignorant, he hadn't found the right words to describe how it felt.

Later, he accidentally discovered a word that made his whole body tingle: masochistic!

When Li Mu Yang was eleven, the old Daoist felt him up from head to toe before saying to Li Mu Yang's parents with a face full of relief, "This old Daoist is fortunate not to have failed his mission. I finally managed to preserve the young master's life. For a mortal's frail body to withstand heavenly lightning entering it is already a miracle. The young master is blessed with great fortune and a mighty destiny. His future wealth is beyond words. Although his life has been saved, the quality of his body still differs greatly from that of ordinary people. Learning martial arts and swordsmanship is impossible, and his mind—"

"His mind is damaged?" Li Mu Yang's father, Li Yan, asked urgently.

"Not quite." The old Daoist shook his head, indicating that Li Yan needn't panic, and continued, "It was merely that the lightning strike delivered an enormous shock to his brain. He may become somewhat foolish. Perhaps, as he grows older, the young master will be blessed by heaven and recover little by little. Nothing is certain."

"Then his mind is still damaged." Li Yan's face was ashen. "Master, can't you think of another solution? This child has had a bitter fate, encountering so many calamities from the moment he was born. Could you please take another look? Stay in Jiangnan for a few more years. I guarantee you fine wine and good meat every day—no, no, no, we guarantee you'll live in comfort. How about it?"

"Do what you can and leave the rest to fate." The old Daoist smiled and refused. "This old Daoist is about to face a calamity himself and must make some preparations. Until we meet again."

The old Daoist left, and Li Mu Yang missed him terribly.

He was the only one who called the pastry shop owner's child "young master." Li Mu Yang loved that form of address. Unfortunately, no one ever called him that again.

More people called him "Black Charcoal."

Anything you did for three years could make you an expert in that field. Li Mu Yang had drunk Chinese medicine for more than a decade, so he could easily smell all sorts of pungent medicinal aromas in the fart Zhang Chen had released—

"Morals have declined, and people are no longer what they used to be. Zhang Chen, I never thought you would use such vicious methods to take revenge on me. You were the one who bullied me first every time. Was the boating incident really my fault? You ran over and hit me, and I merely blocked once, sending you flying. Was that my fault?"

Li Mu Yang couldn't continue, because he noticed that Zhang Chen was crying.

He was truly crying. Tears streamed down his face in a torrent, as if someone had dragged him out and humiliated him eight hundred or a thousand times.

Li Mu Yang froze for a moment, then asked softly, "What's wrong with you?"

"Stop talking—" Zhang Chen wiped away his tears. "Please, stop talking—"

Li Mu Yang looked highly alert. "You aren't deliberately trying to play the sympathy card, are you?"

"Li Mu Yang—" Zhang Chen clutched his stomach, unable even to straighten up. "You can't bully someone to death like this."

Li Mu Yang glanced around and saw that every person in the class had turned their eyes toward the two of them.

Li Mu Yang panicked a little and hurriedly explained, "Everyone saw it. He was the one who came to bully me first. I didn't do anything at all—"

"You said there was poison hidden in Zhang Chen's fart," someone said indignantly.

At that moment, quite a few people began sympathizing with Zhang Chen.

Although they usually disliked Zhang Chen, thinking that he always loved showing off and often bullied his classmates,

they had seen people being humiliated before, but never someone humiliated to this extent.

"There really is a smell of Five Spirit Fat in his fart. If you don't believe me, smell it yourselves." Li Mu Yang wore an earnest expression. He had always been a serious person—serious when sleeping and equally serious when explaining. "Of all people, he just had to stand beside me without leaving. Wasn't it to take revenge for the time I made him lose face?"

"—"

Zhang Chen felt as if someone had stabbed him again.

Clang—

The class bell rang.

Teacher Zhao, the Imperial History teacher, entered the classroom with the bell, then climbed onto the platform and was just about to begin the lesson when she saw her beloved student Zhang Chen standing beside Li Mu Yang with tears streaming down his face. Fury rose from her heart, and she shouted, "Li Mu Yang, what bad thing have you done this time?"

Seeing Teacher Zhao angry with him, Li Mu Yang became certain that his guess had been right. He glared coldly at Zhang Chen and said, "I knew you were deliberately playing the sympathy card—"

"—"

Li Mu Yang raised his head and met Teacher Zhao's gaze. "Teacher Zhao, I didn't do anything."

Zhao Mingzhu grew even angrier. In ten years of teaching, she had never seen a student as dull-witted and unambitious as Li Mu Yang.

She stomped over to Li Mu Yang, slapped his desk, and shrieked, "Li Mu Yang, do you take me for an idiot? If you didn't do anything, would Zhang Chen have ended up like this? Would Zhang Chen be standing in front of you crying like this? Could you show a little intelligence? Could you at least imagine that we have some intelligence too?"

"Teacher, I really didn't do anything." Li Mu Yang smiled bitterly. "Zhang Chen rushed over and slapped my desk, then called me despicable—"

"Then that proves you are despicable." Zhao Mingzhu forcibly cut off Li Mu Yang's explanation. "What kind of person you are—do you think I don't know? From the first day I saw you, I knew you had this sticky, slippery nature—"

Zhao Mingzhu was a renowned teacher in Jiangnan. She had transferred to Fuxing Middle School to teach Imperial History to these students who already had one foot through the gates of higher academies, intending to add a few more logs to their fire and help them achieve better results.

What she hadn't expected was that something extremely unpleasant would happen on her very first day at the school. Someone had actually dared to sleep in her class.

It was an utter lack of respect for her, extreme contempt, and an outright provocation.

Zhao Mingzhu flew into a rage. After calling out several times without receiving a response, she grabbed her ruler and thrashed it against the desk for the entire lesson, until she broke it—

Zhao Mingzhu had asked Li Mu Yang whether he could stop sleeping in her class. To her surprise, Li Mu Yang had shaken his head and said, "I can't."

From then on, she found this student more and more irritating. Whenever she had the chance, she would mock him a few times and hold him up as a typical example of a bad student. Even the word "Pig" had first been shouted from her mouth.

Yet no matter how she insulted and attacked Li Mu Yang, he would merely grin foolishly a few times before drifting off to sleep again.

"Teacher Zhao, I think you misunderstand me. You don't know what happened at the time—"

"Misunderstand?" Zhao Mingzhu sneered repeatedly. She turned to look at the students behind her and asked, "Did I misunderstand Li Mu Yang?"

No one dared answer.

Everyone could see that Zhao Mingzhu intended to keep harassing Li Mu Yang. Who would be willing to stand up for him at a time like this and provoke the female devil?

"Li Mu Yang, do you know who the founding emperor of our Xifeng Empire was? Do you know what year the 'Rule of Xin Yue,' which influenced the entire continent, began? Do you know which two sages are meant by 'Cultured Achievement and Martial Virtue'?"

"Li Mu Yang, you know nothing—you spend every day eating and sleeping, sleeping and eating. I really wonder, did your parents give you money so you could come to school and sleep? If you like sleeping so much, you might as well go home and get your fill of sleep. No one will disturb you, and you won't waste your parents' hard-earned money—"

"Teacher Zhao—"

"Get out."

"Teacher—"

"Out."

"Teacher, you're wrong." A clear, gentle voice rang out abruptly through the tense classroom.