Unreliable Master

The moment he entered the main hall, he saw his Master, who had been furious just moments ago and looked as though he hated iron for not turning into steel, clutching a phone and watching it with great delight.

"Master!"

"What?"

Li Cunxin did not even raise his eyes, his gaze locked on the screen.

The mottled glow from the screen reflected against the glass behind him, looking exactly like a graceful woman dancing passionately.

"I'm planning to become a sparring partner. I came to ask for your permission!"

"Permission, my ass!"

After saying that, Li Cunxin paused and asked curiously, "A sparring partner for what? You're not taking the Gaokao anymore?"

"The Gaokao is over. I was just afraid you might lose face."

"Why did you suddenly think of becoming a sparring partner?"

"To learn from the strengths of every school, one must..."

"Stop. Are you short of money?"

"Master is wise. Actually, I really am going with the attitude of learning. Only by crossing hands with experts can I know my own shortcomings."

"Fine, fine, go on, then. Once you make money, don't forget to pay the apprenticeship fee you owe!"

Li Cunxin waved his hand, quickly scooped up the phone on the table that was playing a video of a beautiful woman dancing, and continued watching.

Zhao Rui rolled his eyes. What an unreliable, money-grubbing Master.

No wonder none of his disciples had amounted to anything.

Half an hour later, Zhao Rui returned home from the martial arts school, slipped into his room, and carefully checked the messages on the system interface.

"Taihang Thirteen Palms, progress: 21%!

Cloud Hand Plucks Stars progress: 10%!"

Cloud Hand Plucks Stars was Li Cunxin's signature skill, as well as the martial art he had taught his disciples.

This martial art combined moves and mental cultivation into one complete martial discipline.

As the moves shifted and flowed, they naturally came with corresponding breathing techniques.

Zhao Rui had practiced it for five years and had already achieved minor success.

"This system doesn't even give any prompts. What exactly can it do? What will happen after the copying is complete?"

Zhao Rui frowned in thought.

For now, the fastest way to verify the system's function was to spar with Senior Brother more often. That way, he could raise the copy rate to one hundred percent as soon as possible.

When that time came, whatever changes occurred would naturally be obvious at a glance.

Putting those thoughts aside, Zhao Rui sat cross-legged on the bed, his five centers facing heaven, his palms loosely clasped over his Dantian, his eyes half-closed like hanging curtains. His body resembled a stone statue in meditation, utterly unmoving.

True qi surged from the Guanyuan acupoint within him, traveled upward against the Ren meridian, passed through Shanzhong and reached Yutang. Like a stream joining a mighty river, it flowed past the Zigong acupoint and rushed into his limbs and bones.

Zhao Rui pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth and silently recited his sect's mental cultivation formula: "Qi sinks like an abyss, intent moves like clouds, heaven is clear and boundless, sincerity shines like the crimson sun."

Cloud Hand Plucks Stars was a martial art somewhat famous in Lin City. Though it was not top-tier, neither was it something found on every street corner.

If one mastered it well, one could naturally make something of oneself.

Unfortunately, the more that was the case, the more stifled the old Zhao Rui had felt.

He clearly possessed a decent martial art, yet he simply could not grasp its essence.

That was even more infuriating than knowing nothing at all.

After meditating with his eyes closed through three Minor Circulations, Zhao Rui slowly finished his practice and got out of bed.

In this world where martial arts flourished, in order to prevent ordinary people from accidentally suffering qi deviation while practicing, scientists and Martial Arts Masters had jointly developed various little tools to calm the mind and focus the spirit.

After they became widely available on the market, the results were quite good.

They were just a little expensive.

Zhao Rui naturally could not bear to buy one, but for the sake of his son's Gaokao, Zhao Jincheng gritted his teeth and spent twenty thousand yuan on one.

Its effect could only last half a year.

Still, even with a tool to help focus the mind, his family would never take the initiative to knock and disturb him without his permission.

That was common sense.

When he pushed open the door, he saw his parents watching television in the living room.

Hearing the movement, Xue Wenhui said, "The food is on the table. If it's cold, heat it up. The congee is in the pot."

"Mm, got it, Mom! Where's my little brother? He's not back yet?"

"He called just now and said he'd be here soon. You eat first!"

"Mm!"

Zhao Rui answered and turned toward the dining area.

Calling it a dining room was a stretch. It was really just an extension of the living room. Their home was not large; although it had three bedrooms and two living rooms, the dining area was practically nonexistent.

Putting down a dining table meant taking up space in the living room.

There were several vegetable dishes on the table, along with an extra-large pork knuckle. With the Gaokao approaching, it had been specially prepared to nourish Zhao Rui.

Zhao Rui heated the food briefly and started eating.

Halfway through his meal, his younger brother Zhao Ke returned home from school.

He was not a Martial Arts Student. He had evening self-study sessions and focused on cultural subjects.

In this world, culture, technology, and martial arts coexisted. Each had its own uses, and each had its own path of development.

"Why are you back so late today?"

When Zhao Rui saw his younger brother walk over, he asked.

Zhao Ke replied with an annoyed look in his eyes, "Cleaning duty."

Zhao Rui frowned at him in confusion. "Didn't you just finish your duty the day before yesterday?"

"None of your business. Just mind yourself. I'm not eating!"

After saying that, Zhao Ke turned and entered the side bedroom.

Zhao Rui's brows knitted slightly as he shook his head. Puberty had arrived, and his rebellious streak was aimed right at him.

After eating, Zhao Rui was about to go downstairs for a walk when his phone rang.

He looked and saw that it was Bai Xuening.

"Hello!"

"Zhao Rui, Sun Boran from the Kunlun Sect is coming to Lin City on Sunday for a promotional event. Are you going to watch?"

"Sun Boran? Can you get tickets?"

"Mm. My Master knows his Master. I can take you with me."

"Let me make this clear beforehand: I'll sell my skills, not my body!"

"Pah! Go if you want, don't if you don't!"

Bai Xuening spat and hung up angrily.

Zhao Rui put away his phone, information about Sun Boran surfacing in his mind.

He was a martial arts prodigy and also a popular young star.

Just like those sports stars from his previous life who had both looks and ability, he was thriving in both entertainment and sports!

He just wondered whether he would have a chance to make contact with the man and copy something.

The night passed without incident, spent entirely in study and cultivation.

The next day, the spring breeze was gentle and warm, green buds climbing the branches. Zhao Rui followed behind his younger brother and strolled leisurely into campus.

The moment he stepped through the school gate, he saw two boys approach Zhao Ke from either side.

One of them draped an arm around Zhao Ke's neck, pulling him close in an extremely intimate manner.

Were they his younger brother's classmates?

Zhao Rui followed silently. Seeing the three of them chatting and laughing, he stopped paying attention and turned at the fork toward his own teaching building.

The familiar sound of reading aloud resounded through the building, loud and full of passion.

The occasional students who passed by were all walking quickly, hurrying off.

No matter the era, the Gaokao was the most direct and obvious path for the poor to change their fate.

Zhao Rui still entered through the back door. As someone from the "arts" class, he had inherited this particular "specialty" quite well.

"Zhao Rui, here!"

The moment he sat down, Tiantian, the girl in front of him, handed him a roujiamo amid the "heartbroken" gaze of her deskmate, Yang Fan.

"I already ate breakfast!"

Zhao Rui thanked her.

"Then eat it at noon. I can't eat this much."

After saying that, Tiantian turned back around.

Zhao Rui awkwardly picked up the roujiamo from the corner of his desk and placed it inside his desk compartment.

"If you're not eating it, I'll eat it!"

Seeing this, Yang Fan's eyes widened as he stared hungrily at Zhao Rui's desk compartment.

He looked ready to snatch it outright at the slightest disagreement.

"Zhao Rui, don't give it to him!"

End of this chapter