Breaking Limits

As Li Hanche made his choice, he was already on his feet.

Every student's gaze instantly focused on him.

Zhao Mengran still wore that provocative smile, but it now carried a trace of unease. He had not expected Li Hanche to actually stand up.

Lin Ruoxi looked over as well, but she did not speak to stop him.

Li Hanche did not look at Zhao Mengran.

He first glanced at Lin Ruoxi and gave her a slight nod, then turned his gaze toward Zhao Mengran.

His eyes were calm, without anger, mockery, or even any unnecessary emotion.

"Four hundred and twenty-three years."

"That is the limit of mediocrity."

The classroom fell so silent that a pin drop could be heard.

Zhao Mengran's smile froze.

"A true genius's first soul ring limit goes far beyond that."

Li Hanche did not deliberately raise his voice or strike an aggressive pose. He merely stood there and stated it as though it were a fact.

"Because limits were never meant to be obeyed."

He paused.

"They are meant to be broken."

With that, he sat down.

The classroom erupted again.

"There he goes again! He's saying stuff like that again!"

"Break the limit? The limit for a first soul ring is four hundred and twenty-three years. That's an ironclad rule recognized across the continent. What makes him think he can break it?"

"Arrogant! Too arrogant!"

"Who does he think he is? A reincarnated Titled Douluo?"

Yet a handful of students remained silent.

Su Nianxue turned to look at Li Hanche, her eyes sparkling as though she were looking at something glowing.

Zhao Mengran's face flushed the color of liver.

"Y-you, some wild brat from the slums—what gives you the right to call me mediocre!"

"My Innate Soul Power is level five! My martial soul is the Azure Edge Sword! You—"

"Zhao Mengran."

There was a bone-chilling coldness in Lin Ruoxi's voice.

Like a rooster with its throat seized, Zhao Mengran's voice cut off abruptly.

Lin Ruoxi looked at him, her gaze calm yet stern.

"Although Li Hanche's answer was somewhat unconventional in its phrasing, it is not theoretically incorrect."

"The upper limit of soul ring age is an empirical formula derived from the generally available data across the continent. It represents the limits of most people, not an 'absolute limit.' There have indeed been cases in history of people surpassing theoretical limits. They are exceedingly rare, but they do exist."

She paused, her gaze sweeping across the class.

"Also, personal attacks on a classmate's background are not permitted in my classroom. Zhao Mengran, copy Chapter Three of the Soul Master Code three times after class and hand it to me tomorrow."

Zhao Mengran's lips trembled, and a mist of tears welled in his eyes. But he gritted his teeth and did not dare cry, dropping heavily back into his seat.

Lin Ruoxi's gaze moved away from Zhao Mengran and settled on Li Hanche for a moment.

There was something complicated in her eyes: scrutiny, curiosity, and a faint trace of concern.

But she said nothing more, merely withdrawing her gaze and continuing the lesson.

"Alright, let us continue with the relationship between soul ring age and soul beast rank..."

Li Hanche sat in his seat. On the surface, he appeared to be listening attentively, but his consciousness had already sunk into his mind.

A pale golden ball of light slowly unfurled in his mind, transforming into a translucent scroll.

Five gentle, elegant characters were written on its cover: Mind-Clarity and Nature-Seeing Art.

The scroll opened on its own, and the words within flowed like liquid mercury, seeping into the depths of his consciousness one by one.

Those words were not ordinary strokes of ink, but a gentle, lucid power. Like a thin spring flowing in from the crown of his head, it slowly passed through every corner of his mind.

Wherever it passed, his once-chaotic and blurry senses became clear, as though a thin veil of mist had been lightly brushed away.

He could hear the rustle of wind passing through leaves outside the window, the faint sound of reading from the neighboring classroom, and the footsteps of someone walking softly at the end of the corridor.

He could even hear Zhao Mengran, seated in the second row, grinding his teeth in fury.

Those sounds had always been there, but now they became distinct and clearly discernible in his perception.

This was the change brought by an increase in spiritual power.

The introductory effects of the Mind-Clarity and Nature-Seeing Art were even more tangible than he had expected.

He withdrew his consciousness, and his gaze casually swept toward the front right.

Su Nianxue was secretly turning around to look at him. When their eyes met in midair, her face instantly turned red again. She quickly turned back around, the tips of her ears so red they looked ready to drip blood.

The afternoon class was practical combat fundamentals, held at the academy's martial training ground.

The instructor was a burly middle-aged man surnamed Zhou. It was said that he had once been the deputy commander of a mercenary group in his youth, and several savage scars left by soul beasts marked his body.

His voice was loud, his stride forceful, and his gaze made it seem as though he were picking out which seedlings could survive the first round of training.

"Today's lesson is basic physical training."

Instructor Zhou stood in the center of the training ground with his arms folded, his hawk-like gaze sweeping over the twenty-odd six-year-olds standing before him in a crooked line.

"Run ten laps around the field. The last three will run another five laps. Begin."

The whistle blew.

A crowd of children surged forward.

Li Hanche ran somewhere toward the middle-back of the pack. His pace was not fast, but his breathing rhythm was well controlled.

He looked no different from an ordinary six-year-old, aside from the lingering soreness in his back from the iron plate that morning and the faint red marks left by the sandbags around his wrists.

He could actually run faster.

The Nine-Turn Tyrant Body Art had genuinely improved his physical fitness.

The endurance of his muscles, the support of his bones, and the output of his heart and lungs had all improved by more than ten percent compared to yesterday.

If he wanted to, he could easily finish in the top three.

But he did not want to stand out too much.

His words in class had already drawn enough attention. There was no need to become the center of attention again during physical training.

The fewer trump cards one revealed, the better.

By the eighth lap, several children near the back were already swaying unsteadily. Some had even stopped, bracing their hands on their knees as they gasped for breath.

Su Nianxue was about five or six steps ahead of Li Hanche.

Her stamina was clearly failing. Her steps grew heavier, her breathing more ragged, and her little face flushed bright red.

But she bit her lip and did not stop for even a single step.

Li Hanche glanced at her back.

He followed behind her, neither too close nor too far.

He did not go up to support her, nor did he say anything encouraging.

He simply followed.

When the tenth lap ended, Su Nianxue practically shuffled across the finish line with her hands braced on her knees.

Bent over, she gasped deeply. Sweat plastered the loose strands of hair on her forehead to her cheeks, and she looked as though she had just been pulled from the water.

Then she straightened and looked back.

Li Hanche stood two steps behind her, in far better condition than she was.

"Y-you finished too..."

she said between breaths, a tired but happy smile appearing on her face.

Li Hanche nodded.

"Yeah."

Su Nianxue took out the oil-paper packet from that morning from her little cloth bag and opened it. Inside were several diamond-shaped pieces of osmanthus cake, giving off a faint sweet fragrance.

"For you."

She held out a piece, her eyes sparkling.

Li Hanche looked at the osmanthus cake, then at her.

Her fingers were still trembling slightly from the intense exercise, and she had not even wiped the sweat from her forehead. Yet her face carried an earnestness that would not accept refusal.

He reached out and took it.

"Thanks."

As Su Nianxue watched him take his first bite, her smile lit up like a lantern, brightening layer by layer.

"Is it good?"

"...It's alright."

Su Nianxue smiled even more happily. She took a piece for herself and nibbled at it, secretly glancing at Li Hanche's profile as she ate.

On the training ground, Instructor Zhou called out the last three students. With miserable expressions, they began their extra laps.

Zhao Mengran stood at the front of the line with his hands on his hips, putting on an air of being number one under heaven. When his gaze swept toward Li Hanche at the edge of the field, that punchable smile appeared on his lips again.

After finishing the osmanthus cake, Li Hanche folded the oil paper and got up to wash his hands.

As he passed Zhao Mengran, he did not even spare him a glance.

Zhao Mengran's smile stiffened, as though he had punched a pile of cotton.

When school ended, Su Nianxue came to say goodbye as usual.

"Li Hanche, see you tomorrow!"