Rebirth? Or Transmigration?

"Li Su!"

"Li Su!"

"Li~! Su~!"

An angry voice rang out.

In his sleep, Li Su, who had been dead drunk the night before, heard someone calling his name and groggily opened his eyes.

"Who is it, calling for a soul so early in the morning?"

With a look of dissatisfaction, Li Su slowly opened his eyes. He had finally finished his social obligations and was looking forward to two days of rest, only to be woken up by someone shouting right next to him.

Hm?

Opening his eyes, a dazed Li Su couldn't help but shudder as he took in the environment, which was both strange and familiar.

It was a classroom.

The uniform blue-and-white school uniforms—in his memory, this was back when he was attending high school.

Was he dreaming?

Li Su looked confused and couldn't help but rub his eyes. He had already graduated from university; how could he have suddenly returned to his high school days?

Did I get reborn?

Just as he was filled with doubt, a piece of chalk flew from the podium.

Bang!

The chalk head struck Li Su directly between the eyebrows, sending him reeling backward and leaving him dizzy.

Immediately, a cold voice rang out, "If you dare to sleep in class again, you won't need to come to school anymore."

Hiss!

Li Su gasped. The intense, searing pain brought him back to his senses instantly; clearly, this was no dream.

But why?

He recognized that cold voice—or rather, he would never forget it in this lifetime. It was his third-year homeroom teacher, Yi Qinglian, the "Devil Yi," the person in the entire school who loved communicating with parents the most, and the nightmare of mischievous troublemakers like Li Su during his youth.

In his three years of high school, Li Su had been summoned to have his parents called in thirty-nine times.

Damn it, thirty-nine times—what kind of deep-seated grudge was that?

Even after graduating from university, Li Su felt a chill run down his spine at the memory. He couldn't count how many times he had been subjected to a "mixed-martial arts" beating from his parents, who had snapped three belts and bamboo poles on him.

If he hadn't been built like a tank, he might not have survived.

He looked up and locked eyes with her.

That's right, it was the devil herself.

Li Su instinctively lowered his head; she had left an incredibly deep impression on his heart.

But why?

After the fear subsided, Li Su felt a surge of confusion.

Although Devil Yi loved calling parents, she had one distinct characteristic: she absolutely never laid a hand on students, no matter how angry she was. Furthermore, her goal in calling parents wasn't to have them beat the child, but to communicate. The reason Li Su had been beaten so badly was mostly because his parents believed in the saying, "Spare the rod and spoil the child."

Besides, did it have to hurt so much?

He touched the center of his forehead and felt as if his brain matter had been turned to mush.

He didn't know until he touched it, but once he did, he was shocked to find a solid mass.

It was the remains of the chalk, which had shattered and stuck to his forehead due to the force of the impact. (Hm? You don't know what that looks like? You can try it yourself: go find some mud in your neighborhood, roll it into a ball, and throw it hard against a wall. It's best if it's wet mud, and try it at home. I used to do this often as a kid; it's very intuitive.)

How much strength would it take to cause something like this?

Li Su was shocked. While Devil Yi's personality was devilish, her physical strength was another matter entirely. Forget throwing chalk; even throwing a blackboard eraser shouldn't have this much power, especially since he was sitting in the sixth row, a full five or six meters away from the podium.

Not only did she throw a tiny piece of chalk that far, but it had that much force?

"Li Su!"

Just as Li Su was filled with confusion, Devil Yi's voice rang out.

"Here!~" Instinctively, Li Su stood up straight, his voice loud and clear. Although he didn't understand the situation, his physical and mental memories had told him more than once that when Devil Yi appeared before you, there were only three things you needed to do: obey, obey, and obey.

"You tell me: why did Murong Fu, one of the legendary figures of the Northern Song period in the last century, born into the Murong Clan, with a face like polished jade, a graceful demeanor, mastery of both literature and martial arts, a carefree and elegant spirit, and sharp intelligence—known as one of the 'Twin Peaks' and dubbed 'Southern Murong'—repeatedly suffer setbacks, ultimately leading to his mental collapse?"

Huh?

Li Su, who had been incredibly nervous and certain that he was doomed if he didn't pass, couldn't help but widen his eyes. He stared blankly at Devil Yi, his face showing an expression that said, Are you f*ing kidding me?

Last century's history?

Murong Fu?

Was this a topic for a classroom? And "last century's history"? Did that era even exist in history?

Watching the dumbfounded Li Su, who couldn't say a word for a long time, Devil Yi shook her head and turned her gaze to the other side: "Ai Lin, you answer."

"Yes, Teacher!"

A girl with a golden ponytail and emerald eyes stood up, her Nordic appearance standing in stark contrast to the delicate features of the East.

"Murong Fu possessed immense talent for the martial path, yet his political aptitude was mediocre. He was blinded by petty gains and forgot the greater cause; though his heart was set higher than the heavens, his ambitions were nothing but castles in the air. Not to mention that the hearts of the people were already turned toward the Song, there were several stronger powers lurking nearby, and with countless masters in their ranks, there was simply no room for him to exploit the chaos..."

Her Mandarin was so authentic that it made Li Su feel ashamed, and the logical clarity of her analysis left no doubt that this girl had studied the novel in great depth. Her descriptions, her metaphors, and her summary were so spot-on that, by the end, Li Su couldn't help but nod in dawning realization.

But in a high school classroom, at such a crucial juncture in life, was it really appropriate to be openly discussing martial arts novels?

And wait a minute, hold on a second!

Back in high school, did our class have a European student? How did I not know about this?

"Very well said. Murong Fu had talent, yet he ultimately failed in gloom. The root cause was his failure to act based on reality. If a person wants to reach the heights, besides having a goal, they must pay attention to the ground beneath their feet. If one merely hangs a lofty dream on their lips without taking practical steps, even someone with Murong Fu's talent and temperament would fail, let alone anyone else."

Devil Yi nodded, a look of satisfaction appearing on her face as she said, "Excellent, Ai Lin. You have grasped this point thoroughly. Keep it up."

The beautiful blonde girl beamed with joy, then shot a glance at Li Su, sitting back down as proud as a little peacock.

"Now, let us continue with the following content. Everyone, turn to page nineteen of your textbooks. Last lesson, we discussed the Twin Peaks of Northern Song; today, we shall proceed to the next chapter. We will cover the legendary figure who dominated the world during the Ming Dynasty of the last century, roaming the martial arts circles for over sixty years, mastering the Heavenly Demon Art at the age of one hundred, and ultimately shattering the void in his final battle: the Demon Master, Pang Ban."

Standing in the classroom, Li Su listened in a daze as Devil Yi rattled on incessantly at the podium, while the students below listened with rapt attention. For a moment, Li Su couldn't help but doubt his own reality.

Did I get reborn???

No, even if the teacher intended to joke and the students followed suit, treating martial arts as history at such a critical juncture as the third year of high school was simply too excessive.

Furthermore, Devil Yi didn't even teach history; she was the Chinese teacher.

Besides, he hadn't lost his high school class photo; he would take it out from time to time to reminisce about his youth.

There were no blonde European classmates in that picture.

What the hell is going on here???