Tutoring

"Mom!... I'm not cold at all. You don't need to have Little Sister bring me clothes."

At the evening street-side barbecue stall, the owner had just sent over the skewers when Chen Shouyi received a call from Mother Chen.

"I still have enough money. Room and board are both covered, so I don't really need much."

"It's fine over here. The teacher takes good care of me!"

"I've made a lot of progress! I think I should be able to pass the assessment when it's over."

Chen Shouyi lied through his teeth as he ate his skewers.

Then, for no apparent reason, a commotion broke out nearby. Chen Shouyi frowned, quickly covered the receiver, and stepped aside to continue his call.

By the time he hung up and came back, the two groups had already started fighting.

The table he'd been sitting at had been knocked over, skewers scattered all over the ground. Chen Shouyi's heart tightened—but soon he saw that the Briefcase was still in its original spot, untouched by anyone's feet.

Otherwise, the consequences would have been unthinkable.

He quickly pushed past the few people blocking him, grabbed the Briefcase, and turned to leave this scene of trouble.

But as often happens, when you don't want trouble, trouble comes looking for you.

A young man he'd shoved stumbled a few steps and erupted in fury: "Fuck your mother, you looking to die?!"

As he spoke, he grabbed a beer bottle from a nearby table and swung it at Chen Shouyi's back.

From behind, Chen Shouyi vaguely sensed something flying toward him. His body instinctively dodged, and the beer bottle grazed past his side, shattering on the street.

Chen Shouyi looked and got angry too.

A full beer bottle—not too heavy, not too light—weighed at least a pound or more.

If it had hit an ordinary person, it would have left at least a bruise; a bad hit might have put them in bed for days.

He turned and closed in on the vicious-faced young man in an instant, grabbed his face with his left hand, and slammed him to the ground with pure strength. The young man's head smacked hard against the concrete. Before he could even struggle, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out cleanly.

That was like poking a hornet's nest. Several young men around him cursed and charged.

Chen Shouyi suddenly spun into a roundhouse kick.

A burly youth trying to ambush him took a heavy kick to the head. Dazed, he staggered back a few steps, plopped onto the ground, and foamed at the mouth, unable to get up.

This youth had studied martial arts and had been fierce in the earlier brawl, dominating even when outnumbered three to one—but now he was down from a single blow.

The fighting crowd all felt a chill at this clean, ruthless move. Both sides instinctively stopped their scuffling.

In truth, even Chen Shouyi himself probably hadn't noticed that since killing those two Barbarians yesterday, a hint of savagery had crept into his nature.

Still, he kept his reason and held back, not daring to use too much force. With his strength—comparable to a martial artist—no one could withstand a single hit from him.

He swept a cold glance around. Wherever his eyes fell, the young men backed away, trembling.

Then Chen Shouyi hurried off, quickly leaving the scene.

If he didn't leave now, the police would be coming.

After finishing his interrupted dinner at a noodle shop, he waited until past six o'clock, then pulled out his phone to call the tutor.

"Hello, Teacher Wang. This is Chen Shouyi. We agreed yesterday—are you free now?"

"Come on over."

Shanshui Community was a mid-to-high-end neighborhood in Dongning City, with pleasant scenery and decent greenery.

After getting out of the car, Chen Shouyi searched for a while before finding Building 12.

The door was opened by an elegant middle-aged woman. She looked Chen Shouyi over and immediately smiled. "You must be Xiao Chen, right? Ruyue is in the training room. Come in!"

So the Beautiful Teacher's name was Wang Ruyue.

Seeing that her features resembled the Beautiful Teacher's, this was clearly her mother. Chen Shouyi quickly said:

"Hello, Big Sister!"

His emotional intelligence wasn't the highest, but he knew better than to casually call a stranger "Auntie."

These days, "Auntie" had become like "Miss"—a professional title in certain industries. Some people minded, some didn't.

"What a kid!" the middle-aged woman chuckled.

A pair of disposable slippers was already waiting by the door. He took off his shoes and stepped inside.

Once inside, he realized how big the house was. The living room alone was thirty or forty square meters, decorated in a trendy, stylish way.

Chen Shouyi glanced around, then looked away.

By then, the middle-aged woman had already opened the door to the training room for him.

He walked in. The training room was about fifty or sixty square meters, with a weapon rack and a mannequin—nothing else.

At that moment, the Beautiful Teacher was holding a real sword, practicing her power delivery over and over.

Her movements were slow and gentle, the muscles in her body flowing like water. She seemed to be deliberately adjusting her force output.

"Take your slippers off outside, close the door, and come in barefoot."

"Okay." Chen Shouyi immediately took off his slippers and stepped onto the soft rubber floor in just his socks.

"Go get that wooden sword." Wang Ruyue glanced at him and said flatly.

Today's Beautiful Teacher felt completely different to Chen Shouyi. There was a chill in her tone, none of the gentle warmth from the training class.

He had a feeling—maybe this was her true face, and the image she showed in class was just a professional mask.

Chen Shouyi went over and picked a hardwood sword, then stood to the side waiting for her to finish her practice.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. She stopped her movements, walked to the weapon rack, and picked up a wooden sword herself.

"Come on, attack me."

For a moment, Chen Shouyi thought he'd misheard. He opened his mouth in shock. "With a wooden sword? That's too dangerous."

A wooden sword wasn't like the Safety Swords from cram school. With the terrifying burst speed of martial arts, thrusting it into a human body was no less deadly than a real blade.

"My first lesson for you is to show you what real combat means. Only danger can stimulate a person's potential."

"Come on."

"Are you sure?" Chen Shouyi confirmed again.

"So young, yet so much nonsense. I said attack, so attack. You really think you can hurt me?" Wang Ruyue said impatiently.

"Then I'm coming!"

Chen Shouyi was provoked. He pressed off the ground, and in the next instant, his body moved like a phantom. Sliding forward, he executed a Sting Sword strike, thrusting out like lightning.

Wang Ruyue shifted her body slightly, dodging Chen Shouyi's attack, then swiftly turned and stabbed downward. The wooden sword shot like lightning toward Chen Shouyi's calf.

Chen Shouyi lifted his foot and stepped back, easily dodging.

He realized that fighting with a wooden sword was a completely different feeling from wearing a Protective Suit and holding a Safety Sword.

Every move, every technique, carried a heart-pounding tension. He was both afraid that a careless slip in strength control would hurt the other person, and worried that he might carelessly lose his own life.

The wooden sword cut through the air with a swish swish sound.

Seeing that Chen Shouyi was handling the fight with ease, trading blows back and forth, Wang Ruyue pressed her lips tight. Her face grew colder and colder as she gradually unleashed her full strength.

In the blink of an eye, the two had exchanged over a dozen rounds.

Their speed grew faster and faster. An ordinary person could barely track the wooden sword's trajectory—every move and technique was like an afterimage, flashing and gone.

By now, Chen Shouyi felt immense pressure. The earlier ease was gone. Every hair on his body stood on end. His mind was completely clear of stray thoughts, and the ridiculous idea of holding back had long been thrown away. He was nearly going all out.

He realized that compared to these seasoned Martial Apprentices, aside from having a stronger physique, he was far behind in technique.

Even with the same Sting Sword, the same Basic Footwork, her thrusts were faster, her footwork more agile.

Finally, the two wooden swords clashed with a sharp crack.

The swords shattered, and countless splinters flew in all directions.

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