Teaching in Front of Everyone During the Semifinals, Leaving the Whole Crowd Stunned

"Both sides, take your positions!"

The referee's voice echoed across the arena.

Dai Huabin stood on one side of the field, with Zhu Lu half a step to his right. Across from them, Ning Tian and the other two had already taken their positions.

The stands all around them buzzed with noise. After all, this was an inter-class match within Class Nine, and either side winning would make for a good show.

The referee lowered his arm.

"Begin!"

However, none of the five people on the field moved.

More precisely, not one of them released their Martial Soul.

The arena fell silent for about three seconds.

Ning Tian gave Dai Huabin a slight nod, then turned and walked to the edge of the field. She lifted her skirt and sat down on the ground.

She didn't even summon her Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda.

The stands erupted in a buzz.

"What's going on? Why did Ning Tian just sit down?"

"Seriously? They're giving up just like that? It's the semifinals!"

"Look, the other two haven't released their Martial Souls either..."

Only four people remained in the middle of the field.

Dai Huabin and Wu Feng faced each other, less than ten meters apart.

Zhu Lu and Nanmen Yun'er had spread out on the other side.

Wu Feng rolled her neck, and it cracked twice.

She rolled up her sleeves, clenched her fists, bent her knees slightly, and took a textbook hand-to-hand fighting stance.

Nanmen Yun'er copied her, raising both hands in front of her. Her emerald-green ponytail swayed behind her.

No Soul Rings, no Martial Soul Possession, no trace of Soul Power.

Just pure hand-to-hand combat.

That was what Dai Huabin had agreed on with Ning Tian and the others before the match.

The stands were filled with astonishment.

In the teachers' seats in the elevated viewing area, there was a brief silence as well.

Yan Shaozhe, dean of the Martial Soul Department, frowned and turned to the vice dean beside him, Cai Mei'er.

"What are they doing?"

Cai Mei'er was also puzzled. She scanned the field and shook her head.

The director of studies, Du Weilun, was the first to react. He pushed his glasses up and muttered, "Interesting."

Below, Mu Jin stood at the entrance to the passage, arms folded across her chest.

She showed no surprise at all.

She knew better than anyone how these kids trained.

Every few days, Dai Huabin arranged for Ning Tian's team and Cui Yajie's team to take turns in practical sparring—not just practicing teamwork, but individual combat too.

He also got along well with Ning Tian outside class. There was no need for their two teams to fight to the death.

It was only the semifinals. No matter how they fought, the honor would go to Class Nine.

Rather than battle to the bitter end, they might as well use this chance to sharpen their blades.

Mu Jin's lips curled slightly.

A teacher was naturally happy to see the students in her class getting along.

And the one at the heart of it all, the one who'd managed to unite so many people with such different personalities, was that blond boy on the field: Dai Huabin.

In the middle of the field.

Wu Feng moved first.

She sprang forward and drove her right fist straight toward Dai Huabin's chest.

Her speed was decent, and the angle was tricky. She aimed low, toward the centerline.

Dai Huabin sidestepped, then lightly slapped the outside of her forearm.

"Don't raise your shoulder so high when you punch. You're not a Tool Martial Soul user. Your explosive power comes from the dragon force of your Martial Soul. Raising your shoulder cuts off some of the force traveling up from your waist and hips."

Wu Feng froze, then threw another punch. This time, she deliberately lowered her shoulder and twisted her fist out from her waist.

"Thud!"

Dai Huabin caught the punch in his palm. The impact left his hand numb.

"Right, that's the feeling. Remember how you generated that force."

Wu Feng grinned.

"Class monitor, your hand's okay, right? I didn't hold back."

"Less talk. Keep going."

They clashed again.

Dai Huabin was clearly a cut above Wu Feng in speed and strength, and he had the advantage in height and reach as well.

But he didn't use those advantages to overwhelm her. Instead, after each exchange, he pointed out what she was doing wrong.

"Your steps are too choppy. When you use Dragon Fire, you're like a ball of fire. You don't need all those little steps.

"Take a big stride to close in. If you miss, pull back at once. Don't get caught up in the fight."

"And your knees—never lock them when you fight. If you do, you'll be half a beat too slow when you try to change direction. You'll be in serious trouble against an agility-type Soul Master."

Wu Feng corrected herself with every piece of advice, and her movements visibly grew smoother.

On the other side, Zhu Lu and Nanmen Yun'er were "sparring" too.

Nanmen Yun'er had a solid foundation. Her footwork was light, and her strikes were clean and decisive. But she had an obvious weakness: every attack was too predictable.

After Zhu Lu dodged three of her straight punches in a row, she suddenly slid sideways around behind her and lightly tapped the back of her neck with a finger.

Nanmen Yun'er shivered and hurriedly jumped back two steps.

"Your attacks are too evenly spaced." Zhu Lu spoke softly and unhurriedly.

"One, two, three. One, two, three. Just like a metronome. Once your opponent figures out your rhythm, they'll be behind you before you even throw the fourth punch."

Nanmen Yun'er nodded, blushing. "Then how should I change it?"

"Vary the gaps between your attacks. For example, make the first two quick, then slow down for half a beat before the third, so your opponent can't predict your timing."

Zhu Lu demonstrated. "Give it a try."

Nanmen Yun'er did as she was told, throwing the first two punches quickly, then deliberately pausing for a moment before the third.

This time, Zhu Lu didn't dodge. She took the punch head-on and retreated half a step.

"Much better."

Nanmen Yun'er immediately perked up and kept practicing the changes in rhythm.

The spectators who had been muttering to one another fell completely silent.

Even the slowest among them could see what was happening. This wasn't a semifinal at all. It was an open lesson.

Dai Huabin was teaching Wu Feng hand-to-hand combat, while Zhu Lu was teaching Nanmen Yun'er how to deal with speed.

And Ning Tian sat at the edge of the field, watching with a smile. Clearly, they'd planned this in advance.

On the elevated platform.

Yan Shaozhe's brows gradually relaxed.

He'd sat as dean for many years and personally watched every Freshman Assessment.

He'd seen countless kinds of matches, but never anything like this.

Using a semifinal as a training ground took an attitude and vision that most eleven-year-olds simply didn't have.

"This Dai Huabin..." Yan Shaozhe murmured, then trailed off.

Xuan Zi, seated to his right, picked up the thought.

"What? Have your eye on him?"

Yan Shaozhe didn't deny it.

"I've been thinking about whom to make captain of the Reserve Team. The boy has both the ability and the temperament. Most precious of all, he's willing to pull others up with him."

Du Weilun pushed up his glasses and chimed in.

"He might also be doing this today to save his strength for the final. Cui Yajie's team is no pushover."

Yan Shaozhe waved a hand.

"Even if he's thinking that far ahead, it doesn't take away from what he's doing.

"To think strategically and still get your teammates to willingly go along with your plans—that's what makes a leader."

Cai Mei'er listened from beside them, a faint smile on her lips.

In all her years teaching students, she'd always liked this kind best.

Xian Lin'er, dean of the Soul Guidance Department, interjected with a seemingly unrelated remark.

"His betrothed is interesting too. A level-twenty-seven Hell Spirit Cat who can coach an agility-type Soul Master with such an overwhelming advantage. That pair would rank among the best even in the second or third year."

The high-ranking officials traded comments, and their praise was generous.

Only Zhou Yi, seated in a corner, said nothing.

She stared at Dai Huabin on the field, her expression sour.

That brat was putting on this "teaching match" in full view of everyone. On the surface, it was about friendship between classmates. In reality, he was telling everyone: I, Dai Huabin, am not only strong myself, I can make others stronger too.

In front of the academy's senior staff, this sort of move was worth a mountain of credit.

Zhou Yi felt a knot in her chest.

Wang Dong'er and Xiao Xiao should both have been the aces of her Class One. Instead, Dai Huabin had lured them all over to Mu Jin's Class Nine.

But...

Zhou Yi took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.

After the classes were reshuffled, the Power Attack System and control-type students would belong to Class One.

Dai Huabin was a White Tiger Martial Soul user in the Power Attack System. He was unquestionably a Class One student.

When the time came, that brat would still have to call her teacher.

At the thought, Zhou Yi's mood improved a little.

Let Mu Jin enjoy her triumph for these few months. In the end, all the results she taught them would be credited to Zhou Yi anyway.

The "lesson" on the field continued for more than ten minutes.

Wu Feng's hand-to-hand combat had clearly improved since the start. At the very least, her punches were no longer so wide and wild, without the slightest technique.

Nanmen Yun'er had also begun to grasp the art of changing her rhythm. She was still clumsy, but she was heading in the right direction.

Ning Tian stood up and brushed the dust off her skirt.

She walked to the middle of the field and bowed slightly to the referee.

"We concede."

The referee had long since realized what kind of match this was. He said nothing and directly announced the result.

"Dai Huabin's team from Class Nine wins and advances to the final!"

A scattered round of applause rose from the stands.

Most of the spectators hadn't seen much fierce combat, but they'd grown more curious about Dai Huabin.

Ning Tian walked up to Dai Huabin and said softly,

"Class monitor, good luck in the final."

Wu Feng came over too and thumped her fist against her chest.

"Class monitor, I've remembered everything you taught me. Next time we practice, I won't let you spot all my mistakes in three moves."

Nanmen Yun'er stood behind them and bowed quietly.

"Thank you, Lulu."

Zhu Lu hummed in acknowledgment, a faint smile appearing on her face.