This Will Cost Extra

The Academic Affairs Office was on the second floor of the administration building. As Li Zhengyang climbed the stairs, he was still thinking.

He normally had little contact with Director Wang. Yet the man had suddenly called him over, and his tone had been rather harsh.

When he reached the door, it was half open. He knocked twice.

"Come in."

Li Zhengyang pushed the door open and glanced around.

Director Wang sat behind his desk. He was in his fifties, his hair combed meticulously, with a cup of goji berry tea steeping beside him.

A laptop sat on the desk, its screen facing him.

There was another person sitting in the chair beside it.

He was in his early twenties and dressed far more respectably than Li Zhengyang, covered head to toe in name brands. His hair had been styled, and when he looked at people, his chin tilted slightly upward.

Li Zhengyang did not know him.

"Sit." Director Wang pointed at the chair opposite him without looking up, flipping through a document.

Li Zhengyang sat down without speaking and waited.

After flipping through it for a while, Director Wang closed the document, adjusted his glasses, and looked at him.

"Li Zhengyang, do you know how many times you've been absent this month?"

"I didn't count."

"I counted for you. Seven times." Director Wang tapped the desk with a finger. "How many days of class are there in a month altogether? You missed seven times. Are you planning to stop attending this school?"

The young man beside him looked at Li Zhengyang too, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth—the sort of expression one wore when watching a joke unfold.

Li Zhengyang did not answer immediately. He leaned back in his chair, thought for a moment, then said, "Director Wang, the school handbook says that as long as monthly assessments meet the standard, it doesn't count as a disciplinary violation. In last month's physical fitness test, basic boxing technique, and combat simulation, I passed all three. My lowest score was seventy-two."

Director Wang's expression shifted.

He had not expected Li Zhengyang to recite the school rules.

In truth, Martial Arts Schools differed from ordinary schools. Attendance rates were indeed not a hard requirement.

This line of work looked at real combat assessments. Even if you skipped class every day, as long as you scored full marks on the monthly test, no one could say a word about it.

"That was last month's score." Director Wang forcibly found another angle. "You haven't taken this month's test yet. What if you fail?"

"Then we can talk about it when I fail."

The young man beside him cut in, "Watch your attitude when you speak to the director."

Li Zhengyang glanced at him, ignored him, then turned back to Director Wang.

Director Wang choked on his words for a moment, gave a dry cough, opened the document again, and switched to a more amicable tone.

"Fine, let's put the absences aside for now. I called you here today because I have something serious to discuss."

Here it came.

Li Zhengyang sat a little straighter.

"You're a registered poverty-stricken student, correct?"

"Yes."

"There's a new policy this year. Martial Arts Junior College students from impoverished families can be specially recommended for a junior-college-to-undergraduate slot, allowing them to enter Martial Arts University." Director Wang paused there and observed his reaction.

Li Zhengyang showed no reaction.

But his mind had already started turning.

A junior-college-to-undergraduate slot, designated for impoverished students, at a Martial Arts University.

Each school only had a few such designated slots. They were scarce resources.

Director Wang continued, "Our school received two slots this year. After screening according to the requirements, you're one of the eligible candidates."

"One of them? Who else is there?"

"You don't need to worry about that." Director Wang waved a hand. "I called you here today because I want to discuss something with you."

Discuss.

Li Zhengyang savored the word.

The director of academic affairs wanted to "discuss" something with a poor student. Interesting.

"This is my nephew, Wang Ming." Director Wang pointed at the young man beside him. "He attends our school too, third year, and he happens to meet the requirements this year as well."

Wang Ming nodded at Li Zhengyang, carrying that condescending sort of politeness.

Li Zhengyang understood everything.

Director Wang had the final say over who got the slot.

But Li Zhengyang met the hard requirement of being an impoverished student, which his nephew probably did not. So Li Zhengyang needed to voluntarily "give up" the slot.

"Director Wang, you mean you want me to give this slot to him?" Li Zhengyang asked directly.

Director Wang had not expected him to be so blunt. He froze for a beat, then smiled. "It won't be for nothing. Don't worry, we won't treat you unfairly."

Treat him unfairly?

Li Zhengyang said nothing. He lowered his head and rested both hands on his knees, putting on the appearance of thinking it over seriously.

In reality, he was already bursting with joy inside.

Money had arrived.

But he could not show it.

If he was going to sell, he had to sell at a good price. And he had to make the other side feel that he had been "persuaded," not that he had reached out for money himself.

He could not make it look too ugly. The other side had to name the price first.

Li Zhengyang raised his head and revealed a rather troubled expression.

"Director Wang, it's not that I'm refusing to show you respect. This slot is genuinely very important to me."

"How so?"

"There are countless benefits to graduating from Martial Arts University. You get priority when entering armed departments within the system, and annual salaries start at one hundred thousand. I'm alone in my family, with no father or mother. If I can study for an undergraduate degree, the road ahead will be much smoother."

Li Zhengyang spoke slowly, with a trace of helplessness in his voice, like a poor child baring his heart while talking about his plans for life.

Everything he said was true.

Martial Arts University was indeed a level above Martial Arts Junior College. Resources, training facilities, and teaching staff were all on a completely different level.

But he was not saying those things to move Director Wang.

He was raising the price.

First, he had to let the other party know how valuable the thing was. Only then would they be willing to pay a high price.

Wang Ming was getting impatient and rolled his eyes.

Director Wang raised a hand to press him down, signaling his nephew not to rush, then said to Li Zhengyang, "I understand everything you're saying. But Xiao Li, be realistic. Do you know which schools these slots are connected to?"

"Which schools?"

"They're all third-tier schools. East River Martial Arts Academy, South Marsh Martial Arts Technical College, schools like that." Director Wang counted on his fingers. "Average faculty, average facilities, low admission scores. To put it bluntly, it's just a diploma. Once you graduate, there'll still be a huge gap between you and graduates of prestigious Martial Arts Universities."

That was not wrong.

A third-tier Martial Arts University degree did have limited value.

But Li Zhengyang did not care about the diploma.

He cared about how much this slot was worth.

"A third-tier school is still an undergraduate program." Li Zhengyang shook his head. "Director Wang, I missed the undergraduate cutoff by two points the year I took the college entrance exam. I couldn't even scrape together tuition for another year of preparation, so I came to junior college. If you want me to give up this opportunity..."

He deliberately stopped there.

The words left unsaid carried more weight than words spoken aloud.

Director Wang fell silent for a few seconds and exchanged a look with Wang Ming.

Then Director Wang spoke. "Fifty thousand."

Fifty thousand.

Li Zhengyang's mind buzzed.

Not because the number shocked him, but because he was calculating.

Fifty thousand meant 500 points of Blood Qi Value.

He currently had 248. Add 500, and that made 748.

What did 748 mean? It was enough for him to charge straight from Subordinate Second Rank to Rank-Seven Martial Artist.

A Rank-Seven Martial Artist was already among the best in junior college. Even the school's so-called genius was not at that level.

Fifty thousand...

Still too little.

"Director Wang." Li Zhengyang sighed. "To be honest, fifty thousand compared with an undergraduate degree..."

"Sixty thousand." Wang Ming spoke, staring at Li Zhengyang. "Don't push your luck."

Li Zhengyang glanced at him but did not respond. He continued speaking to Director Wang.

"I looked it up. Registered impoverished households receive annual subsidies at Martial Arts University. That doesn't even include the special training camp allowances during winter and summer breaks. Graduate positions also pay higher annual salaries than junior college positions..."

"You looked into it quite thoroughly." Director Wang chuckled, though his smile was not very natural.

"It can't be helped. Children from poor families keep careful accounts."

That line blocked off Director Wang's room to maneuver.

He could hardly tell an orphan, "Don't be so calculating."

The office fell quiet for more than ten seconds.

Wang Ming grew anxious and was about to speak, but Director Wang stopped him with a look.

"One hundred thousand." Director Wang held up an open hand. "That's the most I can offer. I'll handle the procedures. You only need to sign a declaration of voluntary withdrawal."

One hundred thousand.

1,000 points of Blood Qi Value.

248 plus 1,000 equaled 1,248.

Li Zhengyang was a little tempted.

But when it came to money, the more the better!

Director Wang, on the other hand, was clearly growing impatient. He rubbed his hands together.

"How about this? Name your price."

"Director Wang, you know, I have an undergraduate dream..."

Seeing that the other party was still dragging things out, Director Wang delivered an ultimatum.

"Two hundred thousand. One cent more, and we don't want the slot."

The improvement from a third-tier Martial Arts University was not that great to begin with. If it could be exchanged for two hundred thousand, that was simply a profit.

Even hesitating for a second would be disrespectful to the system and to money.

But Li Zhengyang still "hesitated" for a while longer.

He lowered his head, rubbed his fingers together, then finally raised his head. His expression was complicated, as though he had made a difficult decision.

"Fine."

His voice carried obvious reluctance. Together with his washed-out school uniform jacket and lean frame, at that moment he was a poor student forced by life to bow his head.

Director Wang let out a breath.

Wang Ming relaxed too and crossed one leg over the other.

"However," Li Zhengyang added, "you pay first."

"You..." Wang Ming was about to say something, but Director Wang stopped him again.

"Fine. I'll have someone transfer the money to your card tomorrow. You sign the declaration today first."

"Pay first, sign afterward."

Director Wang looked at him. Li Zhengyang looked back at Director Wang without blinking.

In the end, Director Wang was the first to look away.

"Fine. The money will arrive tomorrow morning. Come sign in the afternoon."

"Deal."

Li Zhengyang stood up. As he was leaving, he turned back and looked at Wang Ming once more.

Wang Ming frowned. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Congratulations, Senior. Walk your undergraduate road well."

With that, he walked out.

When he reached the corner of the stairwell and made sure no one could see him, Li Zhengyang took out his phone and opened the System Interface.

[Current Blood Qi Value: 248]

Tomorrow, it would be 2,248.

He began calculating in his head: a Rank-One Martial Artist required 100, a Rank-Two Martial Artist required 200... a First-Grade Martial Master required 1,000...

Two hundred thousand was enough for a Rank-Two Martial Master.

And he would not have to pay the money back.

A legitimate transaction, with both sides willing. He did not even need to feel guilty.

After Li Zhengyang had gone far away, the uncle and nephew began muttering in the room.

"Uncle, are we really just giving that kid two hundred thousand for nothing?"

"Ming'er, don't rush. We'll make that kid spit it back out."