Are you doing it on purpose?

The club building took up a large area and stood a full six stories tall, making it no easy task to search out the chess club and table tennis club one by one.

Fortunately, after circling the first floor, Mu Tianchen spotted a signboard at the stairwell corner, which thoughtfully marked the locations of all the clubs.

Following the signboard's directions, Mu Tianchen arrived at the door of the table tennis club on the fifth floor.

"Excuse me, is anyone here?"

Mu Tianchen knocked lightly on the door. Though the sound of table tennis balls was clearly audible inside, going through the motions was necessary—it was a matter of politeness.

"Yes, come in." A senior's reply came from within.

Mu Tianchen pushed open the door and took a careful look around.

The room was twice the size of an ordinary classroom, as if two adjoining rooms had been knocked together. There were eight tables in total, nearly all surrounded by seniors playing or watching.

Understandable, he thought—after all, this was the table tennis club. The tables took up a fair amount of space, and anything smaller would make it hard to move freely.

"Are you here to sign up? Sorry, we've already filled our quota."

The senior who had answered earlier seemed to be the recruitment head here. He had yellow hair, glanced at Mu Tianchen, and, assuming he was there to register, immediately turned him down.

"No, I have other business."

"Go ahead."

"I'm Mu Tianchen, a first-year. Do you have any betting matches here? I'm quite interested in that."

"A first-year? How did you hear about this? And which class are you in?"

No first-year had come asking about this before. After all, this kind of game couldn't be openly advertised, and since they'd only started school not long ago, it was normal not to know.

But the fact that he'd asked outright made the yellow-haired senior wonder if he was from Class A.

"Ah? I just happened to overhear some seniors mention it while eating in the cafeteria. And I'm from Class D."

Upon hearing he was from Class D, several seniors watching the matches turned their gazes toward him. Their eyes were like a wolf pack eyeing a lamb to be slaughtered.

Mu Tianchen could feel it.

"I see. We do have that here, and there are two ways to bet. One is betting on others—single match, winner takes all, ten thousand points per round. Anyone can throw in. The winning side splits all the points from the losing side, and if it doesn't divide evenly, the club makes up the difference."

He pointed to a few tables crowded with people, though when he heard Mu Tianchen was from Class D, a hint of disdain flickered across his face.

"In that case, wouldn't betting on the stronger player every time give a huge advantage?"

"Don't worry about that. The players we pick are matched by skill level, and after every five rounds, we redraw the pairings. It mostly comes down to luck."

Mu Tianchen found this highly unreliable. Under those conditions, even people who couldn't play could come and bet. If the club kept making up the difference, they'd take a huge loss. He didn't believe they were that generous—there had to be some trick in the process.

"I'd like to hear about the other method," Mu Tianchen pressed on.

"As for the other method, it's all about personal skill. One-on-one duel, best of three. You can bet any amount you want. We usually go with thirty thousand points. The winner takes all." He looked Mu Tianchen up and down again. "But you'd better think it over. If you don't have the skill, you might lose all your points."

Hearing this, Mu Tianchen pretended to be intimidated, freezing for a moment.

The seniors who had been watching earlier saw this and burst into laughter. In their eyes, they were probably mocking this junior as a useless coward—typical Class D, after all.

After confirming he'd left them with a suitably poor impression, Mu Tianchen spoke slowly:

"How about... I try the second option? I don't really like the feeling of crowding around with a group. It's a bit... scary."

"Haha, fine. Then I'll be your opponent." The yellow-haired senior had been a little suspicious before, but hearing that tone, a clear sneer crept onto his face.

In his mind, he'd probably already pictured Mu Tianchen crying and making a scene after a crushing defeat.

"You're the junior, so you set the bet. But we have a rule—for one-on-one, the minimum is ten thousand points."

"Then let's make it eighty thousand."

"Sure—wait, eighty thousand?! Are you serious? I remember you new students only got a hundred thousand when you arrived, right?" The yellow-haired senior's agreement slipped out before he caught himself, and only then did he realize the number far exceeded his expectations, leaving him stunned.

The gazes watching them seemed to multiply.

"Yeah, but don't we get a hundred thousand every month? I'm pretty frugal and don't spend many points. Even if I lose it all, it's no big deal." Mu Tianchen watched his expression, deciding to stoke the fire. "Besides, on TV, I always see that high risk means high reward, doesn't it?"

So he learned it from TV. That put the yellow-haired senior completely at ease.

"Eighty thousand it is. But if you lose, don't go around saying I bullied a junior."

"A bet's a bet."

"Good. Follow me to that empty table."

With that, Mu Tianchen followed the yellow-haired senior to the table tennis table. After taking the paddle handed to him by the person in charge, they stood facing each other, ready to begin.

"You serve first." The yellow-haired senior yielded the first ball.

Mu Tianchen took the ball, and upon hearing the person in charge call "Start," he sent out a very ordinary first shot.

After a few exchanges back and forth, Mu Tianchen realized that, as expected, his opponent was terrible.

But ending the match quickly would be boring and would spook the seniors watching nearby.

He decided to deliberately hold back, giving the impression that he wasn't much good either and creating the illusion that his opponent was always just barely missing the win.

And so, on the decisive point after deuce, Mu Tianchen seized the moment of his mistake and ended the match directly.

"Sigh, I really shouldn't have missed noticing he was going that direction!"

The blond senior seemed a bit regretful over his error just now, but since he had to pay up the points anyway—couldn't lose face—he grudgingly handed them over and started another round.

Mu Tianchen used the same method to make him lose two more consecutive games.

Now, even if he wanted to keep playing, he couldn't—because he'd been completely drained dry.

"How could this happen!" The blond senior slammed his fist against the ping-pong table in anger, producing a loud bang. The other seniors nearby immediately gathered around to console him.

After calming down, he seemed to sense something off and pointed at Mu Tianchen, demanding harshly:

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"