Chen Mo's near-masochistic training plan, once put into action, was like installing an invisible high-speed engine inside him and cranking it straight up to full power.
The students of Class 7, Third Year High School soon noticed that Chen Mo had changed.
If he had once been the "hardworking type," now he was practically a machine that could handle training and tests with millisecond precision.
The only time he could still manage something resembling "human conversation" was during morning Cultural Class. Even then, his pen never stopped moving as he listened. He took notes while rapidly working out something in the margins of his scratch paper—sometimes a math formula, sometimes a Qi and Blood Growth Curve, and sometimes the force trajectory of a move from Body Tempering Fist.
Zhang Shun was the first unlucky soul caught up in this "King of Competition Storm," and the one who felt its effects most keenly.
Before, during breaks, Chen Mo could still chat with him about new skins for Star River Armor or gripe about how greasy the braised pork in the Cafeteria was. Now? Whenever Zhang Shun tried to strike up a conversation, he always got the same bizarre three-part response.
"Shunzi, you're taking the long way around on this problem. Look here—draw the auxiliary line like this, and you'll get the answer in three steps."
"Shunzi, when you were practicing those punches during the break, your shoulders were tense again. Remember: keep your shoulders down and elbows tucked. Don't act like you've got two gas cylinders balanced on your shoulders."
"Shunzi, help me check whether I've got this history timeline right. Especially the dates for the Self-Strengthening Movement and the Hundred Days' Reform."
Zhang Shun rolled his eyes so hard they nearly got stuck. He almost hurled the basketball in his hands at Chen Mo's head. "Brother Mo! I'm begging you! Are you trying to ascend to immortality or something? Can't you leave your buddy a way to survive? We've got ten minutes between classes—can't we gossip about handsome guys and pretty girls for once?"
At that, Chen Mo finally lifted his head from the sea of questions. He studied Zhang Shun seriously for three seconds, then said with perfect gravity, "Gossip wastes time. We might as well go over mistakes. By the way, I put together a list of common mistakes for the last two problems on your last math test. I'll give it to you in a minute."
Zhang Shun: "..."
He was thoroughly defeated. His buddy was beyond saving.
Zhang Yuxi had gone from being Chen Mo's "study partner" to his "benchmark for study speed" against her will, and now she spent every day swinging between feeling crushed and doubting herself.
She had always been one of the class's top liberal arts students, though she was weaker in math and science, and she liked to ask Chen Mo for help with difficult problems. Before, they could still challenge each other. Now? She took him a function problem she'd spent half a class working through, only to have him glance at it and immediately set his pen racing across the scratch paper. In less than three minutes, he'd laid out three different solutions, neat as could be.
"Yuxi, look. Your approach is right, but you took a big detour in the middle. You can use the geometric meaning of the derivative here and get to the conclusion in one step. Also, your work is too messy. The graders might take off points for your steps. Every point matters on the Gaokao, so don't be careless."
Zhang Yuxi looked at the page of scratch paper she'd filled with cramped writing, then at Chen Mo's concise, clear derivation, which was practically a model answer. The corner of her mouth twitched. Silently, she updated her assessment from "Chen Mo's had a breakthrough" to "Chen Mo's breakthrough must connect straight to the Milky Way Galaxy. How else could he be this ridiculous?"
The one who felt the difference most directly was Zhao Peng.
The weekly "Zhao Family Training Day" had become nothing short of a trial for both body and mind.
In the past, the two of them had traded pointers during training, resting when they got tired and chatting about games. Now? The moment Chen Mo stepped into the Zhao Family's top-tier training room, his whole presence changed. He was like a tiger back in its den, his gaze sharp enough to cut through the air.
During Standing Meditation, he kept his Qi and Blood contained within him, his body as steady as if roots had sunk three meters into the ground. No matter how Zhao Peng grimaced with exhaustion beside him, Chen Mo remained unmoving, not even the hem of his clothes stirring. He was even fiercer when practicing Body Tempering Fist. His punches roared through the air with enough force to seem as though they could break through it. Every blow landed precisely on the Force Point, his power fierce but controlled. Zhao Peng watched with his heart in his throat.
Whenever Zhao Peng collapsed onto the Soft Cushion, panting like an old bellows, his throat parched and smoking, wishing he could just lie down and sleep, he'd look up to see that Chen Mo had only a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. His breathing was still steady, his gaze clear. He could even walk over and calmly point out where Zhao Peng's breathing had fallen out of sync with his force, or where his waist and hips hadn't coordinated properly.
"Brother Mo..." Zhao Peng lay sprawled there, utterly drained, gazing at Chen Mo's perpetual-motion-machine figure and close to tears. "Be honest. Have you been secretly feeding on 'Perpetual Motion Machine' brand animal feed? Or are you not even human—you're a Training Robot?"
Chen Mo crouched down and patted him on the shoulder. His voice was steady, filled with unquestionable encouragement—and with plenty of that competitive spirit. "Brother Peng, one more set. Your waist and hips are working together much better than last week. You're just one last step away from getting it all to flow together and breaking through this Small Bottleneck."
Zhao Peng: "..."
He finally understood. Chen Mo wasn't just talented—he'd maxed out the "hardworking talent" stat! Having someone like that as a friend and sparring partner was more stressful than a mountain.
At mealtimes, Zhao Peng watched Chen Mo wolf down the nourishing dishes on the table—beef, chicken soup, yam porridge—eating every last bite with gusto. He quietly shifted his own tray farther away, afraid of getting caught in the blast radius of Chen Mo's appetite.
He pinched the little bit of soft flesh still clinging to his arm and, for the first time, began to seriously question his Laid-back Mentality of "It's fine to slack off a little. My family has resources anyway."
No. At this rate, Chen Mo would leave him so far behind that he wouldn't even see his shadow!
And so, another figure gritted his teeth and persevered in the Zhao Family training room.
The "competition storm" centered on Chen Mo didn't stop with their little circle. It soon swept through all of Class 7 with irresistible force.
Li Haoran was the first "outsider" to get caught up in it.
This top student, who had once smugly thought Chen Mo had merely "gotten lucky and had a breakthrough," had recently begun to feel restless.
He sat in the front row and never turned around of his own accord, but his ears and peripheral vision seemed to have radar installed, constantly tracking the commotion behind him. Chen Mo's performance in Martial Arts Class had become more and more striking. His steady strength, the kind only someone at the Proficient level could display, and his increasingly vigorous Qi and Blood Fluctuation were undeniable. There was no faking them.
In private, he'd also heard from other classmates that Chen Mo's Qi and Blood Value might have already passed 80 and was steadily approaching the 90-point mark.
"This Chen Mo..." Li Haoran pushed up his glasses and looked at his latest Cultural Class Scorecard. He was still in the lead on the latest mock exam, but his advantage had been shrinking. He also felt that his Qi and Blood had recently started growing more slowly. The faint disdain he'd felt because Chen Mo had befriended Zhao Peng was gradually replaced by a powerful Sense of Urgency.
He was the top student in Cultural Class, and his Martial Arts scores were among the best in class. How could he let a former "Background Board" catch up to him?
So the students of Class 7 noticed that Li Haoran was asking questions in the math and physics teachers' offices a lot more often. He used to leave as soon as school let out. Now, he quietly stayed in the classroom for more than half an hour longer.
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