King of Competition Storm and Everyday Interlude

Chen Mo's nearly masochistic training plan, once put into action, was like installing a high-speed motor on him, with the power cranked to the max.

The entire Class 7, Third Year High School, soon discovered that Chen Mo had changed.

If Chen Mo was previously a "hard worker," then the current Chen Mo was a "training and problem-solving integrated machine" precise to the millisecond.

The only time he could still barely maintain a "human interaction mode" was during the morning cultural classes. But even then, his pen never stopped. While taking notes, he would be rapidly calculating something on the edge of his scratch paper—sometimes math formulas, sometimes the Qi and Blood Growth Curve, and sometimes the Force Trajectory of a Certain Move in Body Tempering Fist.

Zhang Shun was the first unlucky guy to be affected by this "King of Competition Storm," and he felt it the most profoundly.

Before, during breaks, Chen Mo could still chat with him about whether Star River Armor had a new skin or complain about the braised pork in the cafeteria being too fatty and greasy. Now? When Zhang Shun went over to strike up a conversation, the response he always got was a peculiar trio of statements.

"Shunzi, your solution to this problem took a detour. Look here, draw the auxiliary line like this, and you can get the answer in three steps."

"Shunzi, those two moves you made during the break, your shoulders are tight again. Remember to sink your shoulders and drop your elbows. Don't carry two gas tanks on your shoulders."

"Shunzi, help me check if my timeline for this history question is correct, especially the time nodes for the Self-Strengthening Movement and the Hundred Days' Reform."

Zhang Shun rolled his eyes, so choked up he wished he could smash the basketball in his hand onto Chen Mo's head: "Brother Mo! I'm begging you! Are you trying to ascend to immortality directly? Can you leave some room for your brother to live! Can't we talk about handsome guys and beautiful girls during the ten-minute break!"

Hearing this, Chen Mo finally looked up from the sea of problems. He looked at Zhang Shun seriously for three seconds, then said with utmost sincerity, "Gossip wastes time. It's better to discuss mistakes. By the way, I've compiled the common mistakes for the last two major problems on your previous math test. I'll give them to you later."

Zhang Shun: "..."

He was completely defeated. This guy was beyond saving.

Zhang Yuxi, on the other hand, was forcibly upgraded from Chen Mo's "study partner" to a "study speed benchmark," constantly oscillating between being discouraged and doubting herself.

She was already a top liberal arts student in the class, slightly weaker in math and physics. She used to always ask Chen Mo for help with difficult problems. Before, they could spar with each other. Now? She took a function problem she had pondered for half a class to Chen Mo. He just glanced at it, and his pen flew across the scratch paper. In less than three minutes, three different solutions were neatly listed.

"Yuxi, look, your approach is correct, but you took a big detour in the middle. Here, you can directly use the geometric meaning of the derivative, and you can reach the conclusion in one step. Also, your steps are too messy. The grading teacher will deduct points for steps. Every point counts in the college entrance examination, so you can't be careless."

Zhang Yuxi looked at her own densely written page of scratch paper, then at Chen Mo's concise and clear derivation process, which was comparable to a standard answer. Her mouth twitched, and she silently updated her perception of "Chen Mo has awakened" to "Chen Mo's awakening might be directly connected to the Milky Way Galaxy, otherwise, how could he be so outrageous."

As for who felt it the most directly, it had to be Zhao Peng.

Especially every Saturday, "Zhao Family Training Day," which was practically a "cruel torture" for both body and mind.

Before, when they trained, they could go back and forth, giving each other pointers, resting when tired, and chatting about games. Now? The moment Chen Mo stepped into Zhao's top-tier training room, his entire aura changed. He was like a tiger returning to its lair, his gaze sharp enough to cut through the air.

During standing meditation, his qi and blood were contained, and his body was as stable as if it had roots three meters deep in the ground. No matter how much Zhao Peng gritted his teeth from exhaustion beside him, he remained motionless, not even his clothes fluttering. It was even more intense when practicing Body Tempering Fist. The fist wind howled, carrying a ferocity that seemed capable of piercing the air. Each punch landed precisely on the force point, the power fierce but not outwardly displayed, making Zhao Peng tremble with fear.

Every time Zhao Peng collapsed on the soft cushion, panting like a worn-out bellows, his throat dry and smoking, wishing he could just lie down and sleep, he would look up and see Chen Mo with only a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, his breathing steady, his eyes clear. Chen Mo would even walk over and calmly point out which of his previous movements had a disconnect between breathing and force application, and which moments his waist and hip linkage wasn't in place.

"Brother Mo..." Zhao Peng lay there weakly, looking at Chen Mo's seemingly perpetual motion figure, on the verge of tears. "Tell me honestly, did you secretly eat 'Perpetual Motion' brand feed behind our backs? Or are you not human at all, but a training robot?"

Chen Mo squatted down, patted his shoulder, his voice steady, with undeniable encouragement, and also full of "competitive spirit." "Brother Peng, just one more set. I see your waist and hip linkage today is much better than last week. Just a little more, and you'll be able to connect it completely and break through this small bottleneck."

Zhao Peng: "..."

He finally understood. Chen Mo's talent wasn't just good, it was maxed out on "effort-based talent"! Having someone like that as a friend and "sparring partner" was more pressure than a mountain!

While eating, Zhao Peng watched Chen Mo devour the nourishing dishes on the table like a whirlwind. Beef, chicken soup, yam soup – he accepted everything, eating with gusto. He quietly moved his own plate aside, afraid of being swept up by the sheer intensity of his eating.

He squeezed the remaining soft flesh on his arm and, for the first time, deeply wavered in his laid-back mentality of "it's okay to slack off a little, I have resources at home anyway."

No, if this continued, he'd eventually be so far behind Chen Mo he wouldn't even see his shadow!

Thus, in the Zhao family's training room, another figure appeared, gritting his teeth and persevering.

This "intense competition" centered around Chen Mo didn't stop at their small circle. It soon swept through Class 7, Third Year High School with destructive force.

Li Haoran was the first "external personnel" to be drawn in.

This top student, who had once condescendingly believed Chen Mo had just "gotten lucky and awakened," was recently starting to feel uneasy.

He sat in the front row. Although he never actively turned his head, his ears and peripheral vision were like radar, constantly tracking the movements in the back. Chen Mo's performance in Martial Arts Class was becoming increasingly eye-catching. The steady power that only mastery could bring, and the increasingly vigorous Qi and Blood Fluctuation, were all real and couldn't be faked.

Privately, he had also vaguely heard from other classmates that Chen Mo's Qi and Blood Value might have already broken through 80 and was steadily advancing towards the 90-point mark.

"This Chen Mo..." Li Haoran pushed up his glasses and looked at his Cultural Class Scorecard, which was still leading but whose advantage was shrinking. He then felt his own recent Qi and Blood growth slowing down. The subtle disdain he felt when Chen Mo befriended Zhao Peng was gradually replaced by a strong sense of urgency.

He was the top student in cultural subjects in the class, and his martial arts performance was also consistently among the best. How could he be caught up by someone who was once just a "background board"?

As a result, the students in Class 7 noticed that Li Haoran's frequency of asking questions in the math and physics teachers' offices had clearly increased. He used to leave right after school, but now, the time he left the classroom had quietly been pushed back by more than half an hour.