Zhao Peng's Money Power Assist

Just as Chen Mo was rubbing his hands together over the "85.3" Qi and Blood Value in the System Panel, scheming like a miser over how to roll this meager "family fortune" up to the 90-point mark within a week, the phone in his pocket buzzed with perfect timing.

Caller ID: Zhao Peng.

The moment he answered, Zhao Peng's trademark voice, tinged with barely suppressed smugness, came through: "Hey! Brother Mo! Where are you hiding? Staring at your Qi and Blood panel and drooling, figuring out how to 'strike it rich'?"

Chen Mo chuckled: "Brother Peng, are you a tapeworm in my gut? I just took a look, still four breaths short of 90 points."

"Four breaths? That's nothing!" Zhao Peng's voice shot up, brimming with a "watch your big bro show you how it's done" swagger. "The glorious news of your dual-skill Major Accomplishment has already reached my dad's ears! The old man slapped his thigh when he heard, said with talent and grit like yours, it'd be a waste not to go stir up trouble... ahem, not to shine on the pro team! He specifically told me to send you some 'hard goods' to give you a boost!"

"Hard goods?" Chen Mo's heart stirred.

"Yeah! A hundred times more effective than those little blue pills you grudgingly buy at the pharmacy... ah, no, Qi and Blood Capsules! Wait for it, I'll be at your doorstep in half an hour for you to sign for it!" Zhao Peng finished, then hung up in a whirlwind.

Chen Mo stared at his phone, a bit dazed. Chairman Zhao personally looking out for him? And "hard goods"? Wasn't this a bit too high-spec?

Half an hour later, when the Zhao family's low-key but gleaming sedan pulled up steadily at the entrance of Xingfu Residential Area, and the uniformed driver, Master Xiao Liu, hauled two heavy, high-end-looking insulated coolers from the back seat, Chen Mo finally got a tangible sense of "hard goods."

"Student Chen, Young Master Zhao specifically instructed that these must be handed to you personally." Master Xiao Liu smiled like a Maitreya Buddha, handing over the coolers with a thoughtful reminder, "They've got some weight to them, be careful."

Chen Mo took them, his arms sinking sharply. Damn, with this weight, was it packed with gold bricks?

"This is the 'Ten-Great Tonifying Qi and Blood Soup,' made by the old master in the family's medicinal kitchen, who watched the stove and slow-simmered it with seventeen or eighteen herbs for a full day and night," Master Xiao Liu pointed at the first cooler, rattling off details like a pro. "The herbs are all picked for full age and good quality—wild ginseng root, angelica, astragalus, rehmannia... and stewed with top-grade Black-Feathered Silkie. Chairman Zhao said this soup is mild and nourishing, strengthens the foundation and fortifies the root, much better for your base than those industrially extracted capsules you buy outside."

He patted the second cooler: "Inside here are three boxes of 'Calming Spirit and Nourishing Heart Paste,' brewed using ancient methods. It calms the mind, aids sleep, and helps return Qi and Blood to their origin. Take one spoonful before bed each night, dissolve it in warm water, and drink it. Young Master Zhao specifically said not to skimp—one bowl of soup and one spoonful of paste morning and evening, make sure to 'take' them on time."

Chen Mo listened, stunned, and opened the cooler to look. The soup jars were perfectly sealed, the porcelain paste containers felt warm to the touch, each with a small, exquisite Zhao Family Emblem. Just the packaging and the pure, rich, non-irritating medicinal aroma wafting out told him it was worth a fortune. This wasn't "hard goods"; this was clearly "pay-to-win items"! And a limited collector's edition at that!

"Master Liu, this... this is too valuable! I..." Chen Mo was at a loss. One thing was friends helping each other out, but this kind of expensive "material support" made him uneasy. This favor was too big.

"Student Chen, please don't be polite!" Master Xiao Liu quickly waved his hand, his smile even brighter. "Young Master Zhao never stops praising you at home, saying that training with you is more effective than the private tutors his dad hired! Chairman Zhao was overjoyed when he heard, saying this little bit is nothing, just consider it... a 'tuition fee' for teaching and learning together! If you don't accept it, Young Master Zhao will be the one getting scolded when he gets back."

The phone rang again at just the right moment, still Zhao Peng: "Brother Mo, got the stuff? Hurry up, don't dawdle! My dad already said it, this is 'strategic supplies' for your sprint! You need to hit 90 points fast, get the school subsidy, and then we can apply to use that legendary 'Small Spirit-Gathering Training Room' at school! I've asked around—the 'spirit energy' concentration there is a hundred times better than that secondhand smog you're breathing in the Small Woods! The two of us going there together, that's the sweet life!"

With the words laid out like that, any more hesitation would just be pretentious and would also brush off the goodwill of Zhao Peng and his father. Chen Mo took a deep breath and said solemnly, "Brother Peng, thank Uncle for me! I'll accept the stuff, and I'll remember this favor."

"That's the spirit! Why be so polite with me! Get to it, drink it tonight! Gotta go, the guild war in my game is starting!" Zhao Peng's whirlwind voice faded from the receiver.

That evening, the small kitchen of Chen Mo's home was filled with an intoxicating, strange aroma. His mother, Chen Yaqin, poked her head in curiously: "Mo Mo, what are you cooking? Smells so good?"

"A nourishing soup from a classmate's family, Mom. I'll heat up a bowl, want you and Dad to try some?" Chen Mo said, ladling out small bowls for his parents too.

"This soup... it wasn't cheap, was it?" His father, Chen Guoqiang, took a sip. He knew quality—the taste and the immediate warmth spreading in his stomach were far from ordinary.

"The classmate's family runs a medicinal food business, made it themselves, didn't cost anything." Chen Mo glossed over it, but thought to himself, no money spent, but the favor weighs heavier than cash.

He drank a bowl himself, and the effect was immediate! A thick, gentle warmth spread from his stomach, quickly flowing through his entire body, nourishing every tendon, bone, and muscle, even making him break a light sweat. This feeling was far more comfortable and effective than the dry, hot "drug-driven" sensation from swallowing Qi and Blood Capsules! It was like a parched field suddenly getting a thorough soaking rain.

He immediately went out to the Small Woods for Standing Meditation. This session felt completely different! His Qi and Blood, already smooth and effortless after Major Accomplishment, now felt like a sports car with a high-performance engine upgrade under the boost of this "top-tier fuel." The speed and force of its flow had jumped a level! Where his mind went, his Qi and Blood followed, perfectly integrated and unobstructed.

After finishing his meditation, he couldn't wait to check the panel.

[Qi and Blood Value: 85.5]

A direct increase of 0.2 points! Almost as much as two days of hard training!

Chen Mo's eyes went wide, staring at the remaining soup jars and paste containers as if seeing countless "+0.2" signs waving at him. "This isn't nourishing soup... it's an experience multiplier card! And one that keeps working!"

In the days that followed, Zhao Peng's "Money Power" support was comprehensive and left no stone unturned.

Knowing Chen Mo was worried about disturbing the neighbors and his family while training at home at night, he waved his hand and, through connections (and his dad's sponsorship), booked the evening slot for the VIP Training Room at the school's Martial Arts Hall—a room usually only open to teachers and Specialty Students. The room had excellent soundproofing, was covered in top-tier cushioning mats, and rumor had it the walls were mixed with special materials that weakly gathered "Psionic Particles," making training inside twice as effective with half the effort.

"Brother Mo, here's the key! Go wild at night! I've squared it with the admin; even if you punch through the sandbag practicing your forms, no problem!" Zhao Peng slapped an electronic key card into Chen Mo's hand, brimming with heroic spirit.

And it didn't stop there. Seeing Chen Mo train until he looked like he'd been pulled out of the water, Zhao Peng worried about accumulated hidden injuries. He made a call and brought in his family's personal physiotherapist—the legendary Master Wang, whose appointment book was booked three months out—to "stake out" Chen Mo at the VIP Training Room door every night.

So, every late night, when Chen Mo, utterly exhausted, finished his training and opened the training room door, he'd find Master Wang waiting with a kind (professional) smile and a full set of tools. "Student Chen, Young Master Zhao instructed that I must get you properly adjusted. Come on, lie down. Today we'll focus on relaxing your latissimus dorsi and lumbosacral area. You've got some compensation in your force generation there."

Master Wang's hands seemed magical; the sore, stiff muscles quickly relaxed under his manipulation, and minor Qi and Blood blockages were skillfully cleared. When Chen Mo woke up the next day, he felt refreshed, as if the previous night's fatigue had been wiped clean with one button, ready to throw himself into another round of "grinding" with renewed vigor.

Zhang Shun, witnessing Chen Mo's "imperial-level" sprint treatment, was so envious his eyes turned green. He circled Chen Mo, chattering: "Brother Mo, come clean! Did you save Zhao Peng's dad's life? Or... are you actually the Zhao family's long-lost illegitimate son? Top-tier medicinal food, VIP private sessions, personal physiotherapist on call... This isn't you sprinting for the Gaokao; this is a crown prince experiencing the common life, right?"

Chen Mo was happily sipping that day's "experience soup" and nearly choked at the comment, laughing as he cursed, "Get lost! You're the illegitimate son! This is revolutionary comrade mutual support! Get it? Want this treatment? Starting tomorrow, come to the VIP room with me, and Master Wang can 'support' you too?"

Zhang Shun imagined Master Wang's grip strength, which could crush bricks, shrank his neck, and waved his hands frantically: "No, no! This little frame of mine can't handle such fortune, can't handle it! I'll stick to gnawing on my chicken leg in the cafeteria."