A Campus Where People Knew Martial Arts

The woman's expression twisted twice before she composed herself and said in a seductive voice, "If little brother doesn't want to put in the effort, can big sister put in the effort instead?"

"What fun would that be? I'm not talking to you anymore. You have no money, and I have no money. Why should poor people make things hard for other poor people?"

Zhao Rui waved carelessly and turned to walk away.

A sharp gleam flashed through the woman's eyes, her crimson-painted nails on her left hand glaringly vivid, as if stained with blood.

"You dared to tease me? Just wait. I'll make you regret it."

She muttered under her breath and was about to twist around and chase after him when she saw the boy who had just left rushing back in a hurry.

"Two hundred it is, then. I accept! Sister, you really are beautiful!"

The boy eyed the woman with a lecherous look. His originally handsome young face suddenly took on a touch of vulgarity.

The woman: "..."

"Sister, be a little more proactive later, okay?"

Before the woman could react, Zhao Rui reached out, grabbed her soft hand, and dragged her toward the shadows of the alley.

The woman's body stiffened slightly, her gaze tightening as the disgust in her eyes deepened. Her right hand curled into a claw, and just as she was about to make a move, she suddenly felt a violent force tug at her hand, sending her stumbling forward involuntarily.

The woman reacted swiftly, twisting to deflect the force. Her clawed fingers slashed horizontally like blades, cutting toward the front.

Her crimson nails glimmered with a grim, cold light.

"Netherworld Ghost Claw, huh?"

Zhao Rui remained unhurried. He sidestepped the attack, his left hand transforming into clouds that blotted out the sky, while his right shot out like lightning for the vital Baihui point atop her head.

"Cloud Hand Plucks Stars?"

The woman's eyes widened in alarm. She repeatedly swept her clawed fingers out, avoiding his edge. Her body moved like a swimming dragon, her feet treading the Seven Stars, as she dodged away.

"I'm not playing with you anymore. You're just a little brat, without a shred of romance."

After saying that, the woman sprang up, stepped against the wall, flipped onto its top, and vanished into the night.

"Hey, sister, you're exposed! White!"

The woman's body trembled, her footing becoming unsteady as she nearly fell from the wall.

After steadying herself, she turned back and shot Zhao Rui a coquettish glare, spitting, "At such a young age, you're already so improper. I hope you go limp whenever you see a beauty!"

"Holy shit!"

Zhao Rui was furious, but the woman had already disappeared beyond the alley.

Zhao Rui paused, but did not give chase. Instead, he stared in confusion at the information that had changed on the panel before him.

Name: Zhao Rui

Age: 18

Height: 182 cm

Copyable Martial Art: Netherworld Ghost Hand

(Copy?)

Copy Progress: 0/10

Available Advancement Points: 0

...

The copyable martial art option had changed to Netherworld Ghost Hand, precisely the martial art used by that beautiful woman just now.

Zhao Rui fell into thought. Could the panel's function be to copy another person's martial arts?

There was a progress bar afterward, which meant copying required a process. Was it time, or the number of times?

Zhao Rui hesitated, but did not choose yes. For one thing, this martial art belonged to an unorthodox sect and was useless to learn.

For another, what if clicking it meant he could only choose one current task? Wouldn't that just create needless trouble, forcing him to find someone to learn this martial art from?

After a brief pause, Zhao Rui did not dwell on it and hurried out of the alley.

Too much had happened today. This was not a place to linger.

More than ten minutes later, Zhao Rui swiped his card and entered the gate of a brightly lit high-rise residential complex.

His family lived here. It was a fairly decent neighborhood. His parents had neither power nor influence, but their jobs were stable, and the family lived at a modestly comfortable level.

After returning home and greeting his parents and younger brother, Zhao Rui headed straight into his small room.

"What's wrong with our son?"

Zhao Rui's father, Zhao Jincheng, asked his wife Xue Wenhui with some confusion.

"Didn't he do well on the test? I think there was a competition at the martial arts school today."

Xue Wenhui looked toward her son's room and spoke uncertainly.

Zhao Jincheng said nothing more at first. Only after a long while did he sigh softly. "Our son's too proud. Martial arts depend on talent. You can't force it!"

"Isn't it because you're so useless? If you had any ability, would our son need to train so hard?"

"What do you know? How can a level raised through medicine be as solid as one gained through personal practice?"

"Then why does everyone else use it? You're still just incapable!"

As the couple argued, a trace of gunpowder crept into their words.

Zhao Rui's younger brother, Zhao Ke, rolled his eyes at their quarrel, got up, and went to his own room.

Zhao Rui could hear the shouting outside. His parents were just like the ordinary common folk from his previous life, trapped in the daily grind of rice, oil, salt, and firewood.

The existence of martial arts in this world had not made their lives any different.

Perhaps the only difference was that they had a son with a little talent for martial arts, allowing them to touch a slightly different world.

Zhao Rui shut out the noise outside, immersed himself in his mind, and began studying the contents of the panel.

After pondering it for a long time, he found no other options or operation interface.

Its function was monotonous and simple.

"Let nature take its course. I've already lived once; keep a peaceful state of mind!"

Zhao Rui's emotions had risen and fallen throughout the day, leaving him truly exhausted. After sitting in meditation and regulating his breath for a while, he fell asleep early.

Early the next morning, after getting up and eating some egg-stuffed pancakes made by his mother, Xue Wenhui, he headed to school with his younger brother.

Zhao Ke and he both attended Lin City First Middle School, but Zhao Ke had no talent for martial arts and was merely an ordinary student.

"Bro, I'm leaving first!"

As they neared the school gate, Zhao Ke shifted two steps away from his brother Zhao Rui, called out a greeting, then widened the distance between them and hurried toward campus.

Zhao Rui's cheek twitched.

This little brother!

Ever since entering high school, he had refused to appear on campus with him, terrified that others would find out he had a Professional Martial Artist for an older brother.

His talent might be average, but he was still a Level Three professional minor expert. Was it really so embarrassing to have him as an older brother?

Zhao Rui could not be bothered with the little brat's childish mindset and followed him into the campus.

Seven or eight minutes later, he walked into a bustling classroom that resembled a marketplace.

Lin City First Middle School, Martial Arts Class 3!

As soon as he entered the classroom through the back door, a tall, burly boy seated in the last row called out to Zhao Rui, "Sect Master Zhao, how did yesterday's match go?"

"The same as always. No chance!"

Zhao Rui smiled, tossed his backpack, and sent it accurately onto the storage rack at the back of the classroom. His throwing skills were quite practiced.

"If even you had no chance, damn, getting into school is way too competitive now. I heard someone even mastered the Dragon Subduing Palm, which had been lost for decades. Isn't that a sure-fire Qingbei prospect?"

The burly boy was named Yang Fan. His surname was rather uncommon. He practiced the external hardening art Iron Shirt and sat at the same desk as Zhao Rui.

He was also Zhao Rui's best buddy!

"Keep an ordinary heart!"

Zhao Rui smiled, sat down at his desk, and took out his history textbook.

Martial Arts Students also had to study academic subjects, and they carried considerable weight. Besides the basic courses, academic classes included traditional Chinese culture, mental health education, political ideology and morality, and more.

The court's cultivation of Professional Martial Artists from a young age covered every aspect. After all, no ruler wanted an unstable internal environment.

"Xiao Xue, once your brother reaches Level Three, I'll treat you to dinner!"

After chatting with Zhao Rui for a while, Yang Fan saw the female student in the front row enter the classroom. He reached out and tugged her small braid, raising his brows as he spoke.

"Who needs you to treat me? Get lost!"

The girl called Xiao Xue glared at him. With a raised palm, she chopped downward in a graceful motion, knocking Yang Fan's hand aside. Then she turned her head away, too lazy to pay him any attention.

End of this chapter