You're Using This to Test Young People?!

By the time class ended, Zhao Cheng still hadn't guessed the right answer. He was in a pretty calm mood about it.

When great things are afoot, keep your composure.

Over the past six months or so, his greatest achievement in cultivation hadn't been an increase in Vitality or greater mastery of the sword. It was that his self-control had grown stronger.

Whatever happened, he no longer panicked!

Cultivation was, at its core, a process of constantly strengthening oneself. If all you gained was strength, then you had clearly gone astray.

Zhao Cheng's mind was clear. There was no point in panicking over this sort of thing.

Of course, everyone understood that sort of principle. Everyone knew they shouldn't panic when things happened. But knowing was one thing: some people could stay calm, while others knew what to do and still couldn't do it.

That was the difference in self-control.

Zhao Cheng followed the crowd toward the cafeteria. It was dinnertime.

Actually, Zhao Cheng's home wasn't far from school. In fact, the main reason he'd gone to Qingyuan in the first place was that his home was nearby, within the school district.

But both his parents worked, and at this hour they had only just gotten off work. There wouldn't be any food waiting for him at home, so he'd always eaten in the cafeteria.

The cafeteria food had only one real flaw: it wasn't particularly refined or tasty. Otherwise, it was fine.

As he walked, Zhao Cheng kept asking and answering questions to himself, feeling out how the Panel worked.

Just then, Zhou Yu came straight over.

He didn't stand on ceremony, slinging an arm around Zhao Cheng's shoulders as soon as he arrived. The gesture was perfectly normal among high school students, but paired with Zhou Yu's broad-shouldered, burly build, it looked a little too intimate—and drew plenty of eyes.

Living standards had risen in this era, and average heights had gone up too, but people this tall were still uncommon.

Zhou Yu, however, didn't notice at all. Grinning, he said, "Old Zhao, your whole 'thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—Dragon King returns' storyline is absolutely incredible."

"Listen, just now, after secretly keeping an eye on things, I noticed Wu Yiran sneaking glances at you over and over. Even the way she looks at you has changed."

"If you strike while the iron's hot, you've got a huge chance."

"That Chen Shan used to be such a big shot, but now he's just a loser. He can't compete with you at all."

"Sure enough, if you want to forge iron, you've got to be strong yourself!"

"Old Zhao, you really are clever."

"I was wondering why you'd suddenly gone quiet for the past six months. Turns out you were secretly working hard, just waiting to amaze everyone."

"Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant!"

"I've learned my lesson!"

"If I'd picked up your trick sooner, Old Zhao, and rolled up my sleeves and worked alongside you, I'd have had a much better shot at marrying an upperclassman."

Zhou Yu chattered away, one remark after another. He was clearly bursting to let it all out.

"Wu Yiran, huh!"

"So that's who he meant."

At the sound of the name, Zhao Cheng's thoughts stirred slightly, and he realized who Zhou Yu was talking about.

If Zhou Yu hadn't brought her up, he wouldn't have remembered her at all, even though she was his classmate.

It wasn't that he'd deliberately tried to forget her. Once people focused on something, they naturally began to ignore things that didn't matter.

If he had to put it plainly, Wu Yiran had played some part in his awakening memories of his past life. That connection, of course, was that she had caused those memories to awaken a few days—or maybe a week or two—earlier than they otherwise would have. Without her, it probably would have happened a little later.

The story between them could be summed up like this: the plot was melodramatic, but the process and outcome were perfectly ordinary.

A boy going through puberty saw a pretty girl and immediately fell for her at first sight. He acted as if he liked her more than anything, even imagining where they'd be buried together after death.

And, as luck would have it, the girl had absolutely no interest in an unremarkable boy.

Thus began a "tragic" love story.

Of course, "tragic" was relative to a boy of that age.

Young people hadn't weathered many storms. Even a small setback could feel like the ground collapsing beneath them, which made it seem all the more tragic.

The story began with "That girl is so pretty" and ended with "I'm sorry, you're a good person."

Stories like that were melodramatic precisely because there were just so many of them. Most people had even been through one themselves.

When they got older and saw someone else go through something similar, they'd laugh and call the poor guy a fool. But perhaps, while they were at it, they were also laughing at themselves.

Of course, some people didn't even get to hear "You're a good person." Their story began with "That girl is so pretty," and then—and then nothing.

As for Zhao Cheng, he'd been young and clueless at the time. But the faint stirrings of his past-life memories had given him more nerve than an ordinary high school student.

So he'd gone and confessed outright, in spectacularly self-destructive fashion.

It was self-destructive because anyone who thought, "If I don't succeed, I'll perish trying," was already blowing themselves up. If the feelings were mutual, who would even think that way?

And the result of his little explosion? One more "good person" card.

It hadn't been any great catastrophe, but to the young, clueless Zhao Cheng, it had felt pretty tragic. The emotional blow had hit hard.

Then, all at once, his memories of his past life fully awakened.

And in high school, even the slightest stir in class couldn't escape the students' sharp eyes. Naturally, everyone knew what had happened.

It hadn't even stayed within his class. There had been rumors in other classes too.

For the young, clueless Zhao Cheng, it had been a devastating blow, the sort that made you want to belt out "Snowflakes are falling." But after his memories awakened, it was just a minor incident.

At ten or fifteen, little things brought enormous heartache. In your twenties, after taking a few knocks from society, it was the other way around.

Besides, this world had power that was practically supernatural!

After his memories awakened, Zhao Cheng's first thought had been that he'd simply been too young in this life. His second was that if he already had swordsmanship, why did he need a girlfriend? Wouldn't that slow down his sword? He'd been taking the wrong path all along.

Young people were just too young.

So he immediately turned over a new leaf and deleted every photo of Wu Yiran from his phone.

Of course, Wu Yiran really was beautiful. She might not have been the sort of beauty that made you gasp, but her innocent air, paired with her oval face, willow-leaf brows, fair skin, and the flash of a snow-white arm now and then, made her the very picture of an ideal first love.

For a naive high school boy, she was a guaranteed knockout.

Back then, Zhao Cheng had fallen for her when she'd reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear in the sunlight, revealing a glimpse of her pale, lotus-root-like arm.

Try using that to test young people, and they really won't be able to resist.

As for now, Zhao Cheng could only say that human energy had its limits. Love and the sword were incompatible. If he had to choose between the two, even if he had ten thousand more chances, he'd still choose the sword.

What could romance offer that swordsmanship couldn't?