In full view of the assembled student body, the gesture was breathtakingly crude. Lang Hao turned her head, her gaze sweeping over the sea of faces before settling on the red-haired young man lounging in the front row of the senior section. She didn't know him personally, but she recognized the type, the aura. Zhan Xuandong.
His eyes, however, weren't on her. They were fixed on Yao beside her, simmering with a challenge that was distinctly… personal. Lang Hao's mind worked swiftly. Intervening to defend her 'fiancé' would fit their public narrative, but overdoing it could saddle this already complicated man with a formidable, unnecessary enemy. As she weighed her options, she watched her intended husband assess Zhan Xuandong with a cool, detached look. Then, to her surprise, Yao simply leaned down, plucked the banana peel from her seat with two fastidious fingers, walked it over to a nearby waste receptacle, returned, and meticulously wiped the chair clean with a handkerchief.
Lang Hao: "?"
Adaptable. Bend without breaking.
The collective surprise was palpable. Few had expected Oaks to swallow such an insult. But then, considering it was Zhan Xuandong—Level 43, ranked fifth in Dongguan's trial tower last term, thirty-fifth across all four academies—perhaps it was the only sane choice. The 700,000-point legend was just that, a legend built on cunning and circumstance. In a straight fight, he was outmatched by these veterans. Not just S-Class, but even the A-Class seniors could crush him.
The tension should have dissipated with the discarded peel. But before the academy leadership had even taken the stage, a new voice cut through the murmuring crowd, dripping with false camaraderie.
"Oaks. Your 700,000 points… are they still intact?"
The speaker was from A-Class. In the two weeks since term began, Yao had been a ghost to her own class, ignoring invitations and group chats, buried in her own pursuits. The snub had rankled. Her notoriety, her high-profile 'marriage,' her aloofness—it all grated on those who had clawed their way up through sheer, visible effort. This was Zhang Linjian, not the top of A-Class, but a figure with his own circle of influence.
"What of it?" Yao replied, her tone flat, suspecting a play for her dwindling points.
"We're all A-Class. Mutual assistance is our tradition. How about a friendly wager in the Trial Tower? Don't mistake this for bullying. It's… customary." Zhang Linjian wore a veneer of politeness, avoiding crude provocation for a direct, 'honorable' challenge.
Yao regarded him. "You're seven years my senior. For fairness, will you forgo your familiar, your sprite, and all potions? If you're that gracious, I'll certainly reciprocate."
In your dreams.
Zhang's followers stirred, but he silenced them with a raised hand, the picture of magnanimity. "No need for such extremes. The Arcane Tower, perhaps? It tests pure arcane skill. I heard you earned excellent Principle Stones from the selection. With your talent, you must have mastered them by now. Surely you're not… unconfident?"
The mention of the Stones confirmed outside influence. Only those with connections to the Ministry or the Guilds would know such details.
"Confidence is one thing. Fairness is another. Unless you duel without mental tonics, I'll pass."
Shamelessness as a profession.
Zhang's smile faded. He said nothing, letting the weight of his silent disapproval press down. Snickers rippled through his faction.
Just as it seemed the confrontation would fizzle, a new, sneering voice piped up from another cluster. "Well, if I were in Brother Xie's shoes, with a beauty in my arms every day… I'd have 'priorities' too. Why bother with a tower when you have a tower at home?"
The insinuation, wrapped in faux envy, was filthy. Several female students' expressions darkened. Those who fought their way into the four academies, regardless of gender, possessed fierce pride. This kind of vulgar whisper-game was beneath them. Yet, as the target, you couldn't protest without acknowledging the crass implication, dragging Lang Hao's name further into the mud. This was a probe, testing the authenticity of their relationship.
Wei Mingtang seemed absorbed in her communicator, only occasionally glancing towards the empty stage. Her eyes flickered once, catching Lang Hao in her periphery. The beauty sat with downcast eyes, a slender finger tracing the platinum band on her own hand. Her face was a serene lake, but beneath its surface, one could sense a cold, swallowed blade.
"What did you say?" Oaks' voice was suddenly sharp, pinning the smirking student.
"Hmm? I merely expressed envy that you won the hand of someone as accomplished as Senior Lang Hao…" The boy spread his hands, the picture of innocent admiration.
There it was.The infuriating, untouchable taunt. React, and face disciplinary action. Do nothing, and seem weak. But Oaks' established persona was one of ruthless calculus—she never took a loss, and she protected her own. The great families' analysts knew this. If she let this slide, it would cast immediate doubt on any future pregnancy. The timeline was too tight, only nine months of wiggle room. Probing personal relations was far easier than gauging true strength.
Lang Hao understood. Before Yao could respond, she reached over, placing her hand gently over Yao's on the armrest. "Thank you for the compliment," she said, her voice clear and cool. "Having A-Li is my fortune."
The statement, the touch—it sent a ripple through the crowd. But the shock was doubled a heartbeat later as Yao pulled her hand away. "Men are speaking," he said, his tone dismissive. "This is no place for a woman's interruption. Know your place."
Lang Hao: "?"
Holy—!
The words were a poison dart. A stunned silence fell, so complete the rustle of leaves in the distant trees seemed loud. Wei Mingtang's fingers paused over her screen, her lips parting slightly in sheer disbelief before she composed herself. If this is an act, it's a suicidal one.To insult not just Lang Hao, but by extension, every female student present…
The student body erupted in muted uproar. In the S-Class section, four young women turned as one. One, with striking gold hair, arched a perfect eyebrow. "Oaks. You seem… excessively bold." She was Bo Yumo, whose ranking occasionally surpassed even Zhan Xuandong's. The women in S-Class were not to be trifled with.
Zhan Xuandong and Zhang Linjian were flabbergasted. Their carefully laid trap, and the rabbit had just put on a funeral shroud and hanged itself from a nearby branch. What kind of prey was this?
Oaks, perhaps realizing his gaffe, doubled down. "Why are you all staring? I discipline my own woman. What concern is it of yours? Unless you wish to be my wives?"
Adding frost to snow.
Lang Hao, recovering, thought rapidly. This doesn't prove our relationship; it makes it utterly unbelievable! No one would think I'd tolerate this… Unless…A flicker of understanding. She reached for Yao's sleeve again, her voice softening. "A-Li, I…"
"Don't pull at me. Not here. Have some decorum."
"…"
Lang Hao fell silent, a masterpiece of wounded dignity. Her long lashes lowered, a fragile sorrow seeming to cling to them. Her perfect teeth caught her full lower lip in a gesture of helpless distress.
This time, nearly half the male student population shot to their feet.
In two sentences, Oaks had made an enemy of almost the entire academy. Peerless madman indeed.
Even the scheming Que Baimo was stunned, scrutinizing Oaks' face. Wrong. This reaction is all wrong! What are they planning?!
A voice from the A-Class section cut through the brewing fury. "Oaks. I've studied you. A strategist. Capable of reaching peaks without a teacher's guidance. So, is the whole of A-Class your current chessboard? Or do you aim to drag S-Class into your game as well?" The speaker was Chen He, a consistent top-three performer in A-Class.
The S-Class students were not fools. The provocation was too blatant. Qing Quanyu, the basketball player from before, watched silently, assessing. He was no aristocrat; every move required calculation.
A youth in the first row of S-Class, who had been idly twisting the cap off a drink bottle, spoke without turning. "Is that so? Honored by your attention, Xie. Do elaborate." His name was Yero. He didn't deign to look. This wasn't anger; it was condescending curiosity. If there was a points wager brewing, he'd listen. This was Dongguan. They loved strategies. And Oaks' 700,000-point legacy was a prize worth a moment's attention.
Cornered by the collective gaze of these predators, Yao remained calm. "My thought is this: if I yield to the 'suggestion' of Zhang Linjian and his friends, I become the rabbit jumping neatly into the snare."
"And the hunters don't seem inclined to grant me a graceful exit."
"My pride refuses such degradation."
"Therefore, if a game is to be played today, Iwill set the trap."
"A wager for points? Let's make it worthwhile. Let's see if your courage matches your ambition."
Lang Hao felt it then—the shift. The quality of someone backed into a dead-end alley who, before the pursuers arrive, calmly buries a landmine and then rolls up their sleeves for a fight right on top of it. What is the mine?She was suddenly, fiercely curious.
The crowd stilled. Yao was not one for theatrical flourishes. Even as Oaks, her words were measured, carrying a quiet, devastating force.
"The wager: Whether I can surpass Zhang Linjian's trial tower ranking within seven days. Buy-in: 30,000 points minimum. Cap: twenty participants. If I lose, I pay double to all. If I win… you get nothing."
"Large enough to make you suspect a pre-existing scheme, a trap I've laid to fleece you all. Given my… diligent reputation, that possibility exists, doesn't it? So you must choose: weigh the risk and stay dry, or grit your teeth and dive in for the points. Lose, and you lose not just points, but face. And make me famous."
"The choice is yours, hunters."
"But a reminder: if the ones who started this war retreat from a 'mere rookie's' challenge—a rookie who is still 120,000 points in debt—if you lack the nerve even now… it's not just about face. I'll begin to wonder."
She paused, then reached over and gently removed Lang Hao's glasses. Lang Hao didn't flinch, her thoughtful eyes on Yao. Yao took a cloth and began polishing the lenses with meticulous care, wiping away a tiny speck of banana pulp. The intimacy of the gesture was quiet, undeniable.
As she cleaned, she finished her thought. "I'll wonder what, precisely, you've all been learning these four, five, six years. It seems a colossal waste of time."
"Angry? Good. It's called 'taunting.' And I'm excellent at it."
Detonation.
Every student who had been at the academy for more than three years was on their feet. Did Oaks have a 'Excavator' gene talent? Dig, shovel, bury, and demolish in one smooth motion.
Even neutral observers now thought him insanely arrogant. But he wasn't wrong. He didn't start this. He was just escalating to regain control. The terms were impossible. He was 120,000 points in the hole!
"He can't win! No one can make up that gap in seven days! Not even top-ranked Zhao Ranxue! His record was 130,000 points in twelve days!"
The very impossibility of it was the trap. If Zhang Linjian's faction refused such a lopsided bet, they'd be branded cowards. Oaks' reputation would be salvaged, future harassment gutted. It was a masterstroke. A forced checkmate.
But who was checkmating whom?
The choice was laid bare. Zhang Linjian, after a moment, smiled. "Such spirit. I'm in. 30,000 points. A humble sum, I'm afraid." He had no risk; someone was bankrolling him.
Soon, seven were in. Zhan Xuandong, after thought, added, "I'll join the fun. 100,000 points. Don't disappoint." His entry signaled S-Class interest. Others followed. Que Baimo tried to bait his simple-minded roommates, but they were debating post-meeting snacks.
Twenty slots filled rapidly. The final one was claimed by Yero, who stood, tossing his bottle into a bin. "One question. If you lose, the pot is 900,000 points. Doubled is 1.8 million. What collateral do you have? This seems like a rather transparent con."
Yao was about to propose crippling long-term debt payments—an offer they'd relish—when a cool voice cut in.
"I have one million points. Is that sufficient stake for him?"
All eyes turned to Lang Hao, calmly putting her glasses back on. The transfer of her Western Jin points. A million. A staggering show of faith—or a devastating investment in a facade.
The move shocked everyone, even Yao. Was the act worth a million points? Or did she genuinely believe…?
Zhan Xuandong's hand clenched, the stone armrest cracking. Yero smirked. "Very well. 100,000 from me as well."
The wager was sealed. As the teachers finally began to filter in, Yao stood up.
"Where are you going?"
"Restroom."
"He's running to Aunt Zhou!"
"He looked pale. He didn't expect it to work!"
The theories flew. Lang Hao was left alone, the pitiable beauty whose braggart fiancé had fled.
Yao did visit the restroom. Then she went to the Trial Tower. The same clear-eyed attendant from the World Studies tower was there, reading.
"Aren't you supposed to be at the assembly?"
"People bullied me. I'm upset. I'm here to make them more upset." Yao paid the fee, bought a coffee, and entered the Alchemy Tower.
Inside, she bypassed twenty-five standard projects and selected one: Primary Racial Conversion Matrix. An Orange-Grade formula, rarer than the finished product itself. She had no official recipe, only fragmented memories from a game and knowledge pieced together from two weeks of deliberate, expensive failures and careful study of Leon's lessons. One million Blue Notes and Tu Tu's spirit-gem windfall had funded the materials.
"With a recipe, success chance +20%. Without, in this tower's environment, +10%. The rest is skill… and fortune." She had been testing not just alchemy, but the lingering 'protagonist's fortune' she'd absorbed from Qin Minfeng. It was fickle, a reservoir that emptied and refilled. She'd burned it on minor failures first, priming it.
Now, she began. The process was agonizingly complex, consuming vast amounts of psychic energy and rare materials. The core components—Life Transmutation Stone, Locke's Mutagenic Reactor, Bloodline Conversion Scroll, and the Sprite's Core—were fed into the reaction chamber. Golden liquid swirled, infused into the crystalline heart. She inscribed runes, her focus absolute. At the critical moment, she introduced an Iceshard.
The conflict of extremes. A flash of light consumed her.
Outside, the attendant monitored the chamber. No explosion. Two hours passed. She picked up her communicator. Professor Leon. Your student of interest is likely about to succeed. As you know, Professor Lian is displeased with your remaining 10% dispensary authority. If this information is valuable, my usual rate applies.
At the assembly, the speeches had begun. Teachers had watched the earlier drama with amusement. Now, Professor Lian, the influential alchemist from the Lian family, sneered at Leon. "Your student seems to have a weak bladder. Or a weak spine."
Leon, who had just received a message, suddenly reddened. "You! You and your cronies, stifling anyone who isn't in your pocket! You've had it out for Oaks since day one!"
Lian was taken aback by the outburst. "Found a kindred spirit, have you? So protective. Give her your resources, then. Oh wait, she's already sworn to Zhou Miao."
"You look down on my student? Fine! I'll wager my 10% dispensary authority she wins today!"
The teachers stirred. That was a serious stake.
Lian, after a swift, confirming glance at the unchanged rankings, smiled thinly. "Your sentiment does you credit. 10% it is."
On stage, the student representative, the pale, intense Zhao Ranxue, was speaking. Then, a figure returned, moving slowly, face drawn, as if spiritually drained.
The Vice-Dean couldn't resist. "Problems with the plumbing, student?"
Yao looked up. "The facilities are fine. I was in the Trial Tower."
A wave of disbelief. Everyone scrambled to check the rankings. Nothing at the top had changed.
Yao helped the frantic Zhang Linjian. "Don't panic. I'm not ahead of you."
"I'm 18 places ahead of you."
They saw it. +36,098. A positive score. The 120,000-point deficit was not just erased, but overcome with 36,000 to spare.
"IMPOSSIBLE!" Zhang Linjian shrieked.
Wei Mingtang, who hadn't checked the main board, was already on the Alchemy Tower's leaderboard. #1 – Oaks. Value of latest submission: 150,000+ points.
Professor Lian's face darkened. "What did you produce? Was it within regulations, or did someone…" he glared at Leon, "provide illicit assistance?"
Yao, rubbing her tired eyes, sat down without permission. "That's confidential. You'll know in time. I merely got lucky." She turned to Lang Hao. "Is it over?"
"Nearly."
"Good timing then."
The hall erupted. She tanked 120,000 points on purpose? To set this up? What kind of sinister mastermind is this?!
The bettors were in shock. Their points were gone. The 'Log' was a legendary schemer!
Amid the chaos, as the digital contract for the semester's resource allocation appeared before each student, a notification flashed before Zhang Linjian and four others: "Oaks has challenged you. Confirm in 5… 4…" In the instant the contract popped up, Yao had sent duel requests. They clicked automatically. Combat sigils flared on six people—five challengers, and Yao.
Simultaneously, three other students yelped, caught in an identical trap set by Wei Mingtang. The two instigators shared a glance of mutual surprise.
Zhang Linjian, enraged, shot into the air on metallic wings. "You dare challenge me? And all of us at once? You arrogant—"
BOOM.
A ten-meter gravity field slammed the five airborne elites to the ground. They burned status-clearance spells, summoned pets, and unleashed a volley of attacks. But curses missed or were reflected back by a shimmering, gigantic Dual-Space Mirror. Half the remaining offensive energy was shredded by a howling Vortex Flow. The remainder crashed into a three-meter Auto-Recovery Photonic Barrier. Yao's shell cracked, then instantly reformed as the barrier glowed, converting the attack energy into healing light.
While they staggered from their own spent power, Yao's system—tendrils, pets, talents, and barrier—sucked in energy voraciously. Bang!A B-Class student was shot through the gut. Their counterattack came, but the gravity field twisted, bending their aim. Bang!A second, the one with the foul mouth, took a round through his jaw.
Soon, only Zhang Linjian remained, desperate. He triggered a forbidden blood-burning technique. A teacher moved to stop it, but Yao was faster. Bang!Interrupt.
Hundreds of solidified light threads pierced his limbs and torso, then hardened. The gravity field yanked the 1500-kilogram crystalline cocoon and smashed it down, cratering the stone floor where his student contract glowed.
Yao landed, one boot planting squarely on the digital signature bearing his name.
She looked down at the broken, immobilized figure.
"You're correct. Challenging you… was an afterthought."
"But I have a feeling you'll graduate soon. Because for the next few years… Iam Dongguan."