Applying for permission to hoschool was easier than Lu Yuan had expected.
After a few of his teachers in the office gave Lu Yuan so test questions, the head teacher readily approved his application.
Surprisingly, his family wasn’t notified, but he was required to return to school every three days.
Lu Yuan felt like he had been pardoned. It was the first ti in his two years of high school that he found his head teacher so understanding and likable.
He was so grateful he almost wanted to hug him and plant a kiss on his shiny forehead.
After physics class, Lu Yuan went back to the classroom to pack his belongings.
When Cheng Peng asked, "Lu Yuan, did the head teacher really approve your leave of absence?"
Without pausing his packing, Lu Yuan glanced at him and replied, "Yeah! I just have to co back for the final exams."
Instantly, gasps rippled through the surrounding students.
"I’m so damn jealous!" Cheng Peng exclaid, his eyes practically red with envy. "The final exams are just around the corner, and he still gave you two weeks off? I... I..."
"Does the guy ranked second in our grade get to be this arrogant?"
"Brother."
Lu Yuan patted Cheng Peng’s shoulder and said comfortingly, with deep aning, "When you reach my level... you’ll understand."
With that, Lu Yuan stylishly slung his backpack over his shoulder and left amidst a sea of envious and admiring gazes.
As he reached the classroom door, a pink hairpin blocked his path.
The young girl stamred, seemingly wanting to say sothing to Lu Yuan.
Unfortunately, Lu Yuan didn’t give her the chance. With a quick "Excuse ," he sidestepped Ling Yue and walked away.
He could almost feel a resentful gaze on his back as he left.
I ain’t got ti for romance!
Lu Yuan left the school and headed straight for the largest bookstore in the city.
He spent the entire afternoon in the bookstore, skimming through all the textbooks for the second half of his third year of high school and also researching so subjects typically only covered in university.
He even managed to spend over an hour reading books for pleasure.
The experience points he gained that afternoon via his Student Profession Panel far exceeded what he would have gotten from attending classes at school.
I should have done this earlier.
With an Intelligence of 11, Lu Yuan had far surpassed average high school students in terms of IQ.
Self-study was indeed a better fit for him than the structured education at school.
Seeing it was getting late, Lu Yuan grabbed a quick bite to eat near the bookstore before taking a bus to the Origin Martial Arts Hall.
"Again!"
"Stop!"
Lin Zhiquin suddenly shouted, halting Lu Yuan’s practical training. With a slight frown, he beckoned him over.
"Why has your performance declined so much today? Haven’t your injuries from yesterday healed yet?"
He pulled aside Lu Yuan’s martial arts uniform, saw the marks left by dicinal patches, and couldn’t help asking, "Was the healing massage on the second floor ineffective for you?"
"No, it worked really well," Lu Yuan replied, feeling a little guilty. "I did so extra practice when I got ho last night. I accidentally... overdid it a bit."
"Extra practice? Which movents were you practicing to end up like this? Show ."
Lin Zhiquin watched Lu Yuan with a stoic expression.
Lu Yuan obediently began to demonstrate the Crane-shaped Pile.
Without the boost from his Lv3 Absolute Focus, he could only perform the first fifteen movents before being unable to continue.
He failed to notice the changes in Lin Zhiquin’s expression: from calm, to slight surprise, then to shock and complexity, before finally returning to an unreadable, tranquil state.
"Don’t practice anymore today, and your combat practice is canceled as well."
Lin Zhiquin thought for a mont, then said, "Go upstairs now. I’ll arrange a dicinal bath for you."
"A dicinal bath?"
Twenty minutes later.
Lu Yuan found himself soaking in a large wooden tub from which steam billowed.
The top of the tub was covered with a lid, leaving only a hole for his head to stick out.
Steam filled the air, obscuring Lu Yuan’s view of what was in the water, but he could clearly sll the potent aroma of Chinese dicinal herbs.
"Coach," Lu Yuan said, looking at Lin Zhiquin who stood beside him.
But Lin Zhiquin simply said, "Just soak in there until the water cools, then go ho on your own."
"Oh."
Lu Yuan watched Lin Zhiquin leave, finding himself alone in the room.
As he soaked in the hot water, it felt as if countless tiny insects were constantly trying to burrow into his skin.
It was both numbing and itchy, yet also strangely pleasant.
My treatnt seems to have gotten an upgrade...
With nothing else to do, Lu Yuan idly began to scrub himself, removing the dead skin from under his armpits and the soles of his feet.
After scrubbing his whole body, the pain seed to have lessened.
The water was still warm, and he drifted off to sleep.
When Lu Yuan awoke and looked at the clock on the wall, he saw it was already past nine in the evening.
Damn it, I forgot to ssage Mom!
Lu Yuan scrambled out of the tub; the water inside had long since gone cold.
Not bothering to rinse off, he quickly dressed and rushed out the door.
Lin Zhiquin’s figure erged silently from the adjacent room.
Watching Lu Yuan’s rapidly retreating figure, a faint glint flickered in his eyes.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Lin Zhiquin, your daughter is in the hospital! Aren’t you going to do anything, as her father? You just spend all your ti at that useless martial arts hall of yours... SOB... SOB..."
Listening to the woman’s sobs on the other end of the line, Lin Zhiquin frowned, took a deep breath, and said, "I’m coming over now."
Amazing! Absolutely amazing!
In his bedroom, Lu Yuan threw enthusiastic punches into the air, creating a swooshing sound.
An expression of surprise and astonishnt lit up his face.
Tonight’s dicinal bath was far more effective than the previous two massages.
He hadn’t soaked for long, but the torn muscles in his body felt completely healed.
Lu Yuan tried practicing the Crane-shaped Pile again.
This ti, he surprisingly managed to perform sixteen movents before faltering.
Perhaps his healed muscle tissue had beco stronger, and the pain was also significantly reduced.
Lu Yuan didn’t dare to push himself too hard.
He behaved himself that night, did no extra training, and lay in bed early, practicing Consciousness Battles.
The middle-aged man in the rainy alley scenario posed less and less of a threat and offered diminishing practical benefits for his training, so Lu Yuan began to focus more of his energy on Lin Zhiquin and Qin Feng.
He alternated between normal combat practice and a ’death-seeking’ style of combat.
After all, dying within the Consciousness Space had no real consequences for him.
Perhaps by dying over and over again... he might suddenly achieve enlightennt one day?
Lu Yuan’s life settled into a regular pattern.
Even without school, he still woke up early every morning.
He would train by himself at the Origin Martial Arts Hall in the mornings, spend his afternoons at the bookstore or library, and receive individual instruction from Lin Zhiquin in the evenings.
He hadn’t kept his decision to hoschool from his family.
After he laid out the pros and cons to his parents, his father, Lu Xinghua, didn’t say much. His mother, Zheng Qiuling, being more conservative in her thinking, felt it was improper.
However, after nagging him for a bit, she eventually let it go.
「In the blink of an eye,」 ten days passed.
Inside a combat training room on the first floor of the Origin Martial Arts Hall, Lin Zhiquin stood with an expressionless face, dressed in casual clothes.
A figure in white, moving like a hurricane, relentlessly attacked him.
A whip kick sliced through the air, creating a sharp whistling sound, as if it were a battle-axe cleaving empty space.
Yet, when these attacks landed on Lin Zhiquin, they were like raindrops on a sandbank, silently absorbed without causing the slightest ripple.
Suddenly, Lin Zhiquin shot out a hand.
His palm landed precisely on the white figure.
The latter imdiately flew backward like a kite with a broken string.
It flew back a full seven or eight ters before landing on the soft mat.
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