After breakfast, the four of them left the cafeteria. Zhou Hu headed toward Class Ten, casting one last reluctant glance at Nezha before leaving, his eyes looking just like those of an abandoned puppy.
Nezha waved him off, signaling for him to get going. Only then did Zhou Hu droop his head and disappear around the corner of the corridor.
Nezha and the two girls followed the covered walkway between the teaching buildings toward Freshman Class Nine.
Class Nine was on the third floor of the teaching building. They climbed the stairs, rounded a corner, and spotted the classroom door at the end of the corridor, with a sign reading "Freshman Class Nine."
The door was half open, and a clamor of voices already drifted out from inside.
Wu Feng pushed the door open and went in first. Ning Tian followed her, her platinum-blond ponytail swaying gently. Nezha came last, his hands in his pockets. He had not brought out his Wind Fire Wheels, and, for once, walked properly with his feet on the ground.
The moment the three entered, the classroom fell silent for an instant, then broke into a low stir.
Around twenty freshmen were already seated inside, chatting in little clusters of two or three. Now, every gaze swung toward the door.
First came Wu Feng's fiery red ponytail and her striking, boldly beautiful face, then Ning Tian's graceful air, like a flowing white dress, and her delicate beauty. Finally, everyone's eyes settled on the boy bringing up the rear.
Nezha stood tall and straight, with a round bun tied on either side of his head. They looked like two weighty bells of black jade, making the contours of his handsome face seem even sharper.
The rest of his black hair fell beneath the buns, reaching past his shoulder blades, its ends curling slightly of their own accord. He had sword-like brows, star-bright eyes, and a high, straight nose. His fiery red gaze swept casually across the classroom with an air of indifferent detachment. Somehow, he even made the green freshman uniform look crisp and stylish.
He walked between the two girls, one on either side, one radiant as fire and the other cool as the moon. Standing together, the three seemed to draw all the light in the classroom toward themselves.
The classroom stayed quiet for two breaths, then erupted.
"Holy shit, who are those three?"
"He's so handsome... Is that black-haired boy with the buns a freshman?"
"Where are you looking? That platinum-blond girl beside him is the real stunner. Her presence is incredible!"
"The redhead looks really fierce, too!"
The boys whispered among themselves, their eyes darting back and forth between Ning Tian and Wu Feng, amazement written all over their faces.
The girls huddled together and murmured, most of their gazes glued to Nezha. Occasionally, they glanced at Ning Tian, then looked down at themselves, subtle expressions crossing their faces.
Nezha turned a deaf ear to the chatter around him. He scanned the classroom, found an empty seat in the back row by the window, and walked over.
Ning Tian naturally followed at his side and sat down beside him.
Wu Feng dropped into the seat on Ning Tian's other side, folded her arms, and crossed her legs. With a flick of her red ponytail, she fended off all those furtive looks directed at Ning Tian.
The three had barely taken their seats when a young teacher entered the classroom.
Mu Jin stepped inside in a pair of slender-heeled ankle boots, his long, chestnut waves swaying gently over his shoulders. His carefully applied makeup and brisk, capable bearing quieted the stir in the classroom a little further.
He took his place behind the lectern and swept his narrow, phoenix-shaped eyes over the class, a perfectly measured smile on his lips. When his gaze reached the back row, it lingered on Nezha and the two girls, and the satisfaction in his eyes deepened.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Mu Jin, the homeroom teacher for your Freshman Class Nine."
His voice was clear and crisp. Turning around, he wrote his name on the blackboard in flowing strokes. As he finished, the chalk paused lightly against the final character with a sharp tap. Then he turned back, braced both hands on the lectern, and smiled brightly, like a rose in full bloom.
"For the next few years, I'll be responsible for all your course schedules and training plans. But let me lay the unpleasant truth out first-"
He put away his smile and narrowed his phoenix-shaped eyes slightly. His gaze passed over the young faces, his voice quiet but every word clear.
"I know that among your peers, you absolutely deserve to be called geniuses. But here at Shrek Academy, genius is the cheapest thing there is."
The classroom was utterly silent.
Mu Jin paused, giving the students two breaths to digest his words before continuing. His tone was calm, yet it was like a blunt knife slowly cutting into everyone's nerves.
"I'm going to tell you a cruel fact right now-in the freshman assessment three months from now, Shrek Academy will eliminate more than half, perhaps even two-thirds, of its freshmen."
The instant those words fell, it was as though a pebble had been thrown into the classroom.
When they heard the word "geniuses," most of the freshmen still wore a measure of pride. Of those who could enter Shrek Academy, who had not been one of the finest prospects in their hometown? Who had not grown up showered with praise and affection by their teachers and elders? But when the words "eliminate more than half" came crashing down, those proud expressions seemed to have been doused with cold water. They froze, then cracked.
Aside from a handful of steady-minded students who barely managed to maintain their composure, nearly everyone in the class showed some degree of horror in their eyes.
More than half eliminated? Perhaps even two-thirds?
That proportion was staggering.
The boys and girls who had just been thinking of themselves as geniuses now exchanged uneasy looks. Some clenched their fists, some bit their lips, and some instinctively straightened their backs. Others went pale, cold sweat beading at their temples. The air in the classroom seemed to solidify, pressing against their chests until they felt stifled.
Mu Jin watched the stunned faces below the lectern and felt satisfied.
He waited a few breaths, letting that oppressive feeling sink deep enough into everyone's heart. Only then did he lift his chin slightly, his voice suddenly rising with a ringing, forceful urgency.
"Three months. Of Shrek Academy's first-year freshmen, fewer than one-third will be able to remain here and continue their studies."
His fingers pressed harder against the lectern as he leaned forward, his narrow, phoenix-shaped eyes sweeping over everyone. He spoke each word distinctly.
"But I hope that more than two-thirds of the students in our Freshman Class Nine will remain."
He paused briefly, the corners of his mouth lifting again, his eyes astonishingly bright.
"Are you confident?"
"Yes!!"
The entire class shouted in unison. Their voices struck the classroom walls, making even the windowpanes buzz.
The students who had gone pale with fear moments before were now swept up in the spirit of those around them and shouted, too. They straightened their backs and clenched their fists, light rekindling in their eyes.
That was the hot blood of youth: it needed little fanning, and a single spark could set it ablaze.
Seeing the students' soaring morale, Mu Jin smiled in satisfaction. He tapped the lectern to settle the atmosphere a little, his tone becoming composed again.
"Confidence alone isn't enough. You'll need hard work, too. Over the next three months, I'll show you what real training means."
He turned, picked up the chalk, and wrote several large words on the blackboard-Lesson One: Soul Power Circulation Efficiency.
He had thoroughly fired up Freshman Class Nine.
Before you continue