Chapter Thirty-Eight: Whoever Dares to Reach Out, Will Have Their Hand Severed

Zhang Xiaorou was sensitive by nature. The moment she noticed Xiao Nan’s uneasy expression, she followed his gaze—and was startled to find her father not far away, glaring in their direction with furrowed brows and fiery eyes.

She sighed, eyebrows raised, and marched over with a fierce air.
“Dad, why did you sneak in here again? If you keep scaring my classmates, I’ll get really mad…”
“I’m worried about you. I want to see you go to class, and I’ll pick you up this afternoon to take you home.”
“I’m not a child anymore, do I still need you to pick me up?” Zhang Xiaorou replied helplessly. “Come on, go home, or I won’t talk to you.”
As she spoke, Zhang Xiaorou lowered her head and pushed Zhang Yi toward the school gate. She wasn’t sure if her father had overheard her earlier conversation—how embarrassing.

“You said the same thing last time, and then you were kidnapped in the blink of an eye, almost…” Zhang Yi tried to argue, but he was powerless against his daughter; forced to retreat step by step.
In truth, her gentle push couldn’t have even moved him.

“That was an accident. It won’t happen again. If anything comes up, I’ll call you. Please go home, I can’t focus on my studies with you here.”
This time, Zhang Xiaorou truly felt embarrassed…

Her father was hopeless—he’d even learned to disguise himself and follow her. What else was he capable of?

Zhang Yi left, glancing back every few steps, worry etched on his face. He sent Xiao Nan another glare, but there was nothing more he could do. His daughter had grown up and was no longer as obedient as before.

A faint melancholy lingered in his heart—it was hard enough to be both father and mother.

…

Once her father was sent off, Zhang Xiaorou looked much more at ease. She ran over and said, “Xiao Nan, do your best later—you can win, and we’ll be cheering for you.”

She discreetly nudged the two girls beside her.

They both raised their fists and shouted, “Go for it!”

Xiao Nan nearly covered his face and fled; a wave of inexplicable embarrassment washed over him. He hurriedly said, “They’re calling roll over there, I have to go.”

Not waiting for a reply from Zhang Xiaorou and the others, he rushed into the crowd of his own class.

Cheering still echoed behind him.

…

Xiao Nan glanced around, quietly counting heads. Apart from the thousand or so teachers and students gathered at a distance, there were only one hundred and sixty participants in the formal testing area.

It seemed that what Mr. Wang said in the spirit-testing class was true—Class Five of Grade Twelve had the most students who passed.

He counted and found that Class One, known for the best academic performance, had only twenty-eight students.

Class Six had the fewest, only twenty-one.

Of course, numbers meant little. It simply showed that more students were nearing the threshold of meditation. But to pass the martial arts test, it all depended on individual ability.

Whether a mule or a horse, it had to be led out for a walk.

He wondered how strict the requirements would be for this assessment. What level of skill was needed to pass?

Ignoring the murmuring of his classmates, Xiao Nan looked toward the podium.

There were five chairs and a long table.

Vice Principal Lin Anguo sat in the center, back straight and full of authority.

To his left sat two male teachers, both in their thirties. They were the school’s martial arts instructors, each responsible for two classes.

On his right sat a teacher in his fifties, hair touched with gray, watching the students with keen interest and a warm smile. Xiao Nan recognized him—Director Zhao Dongming, a gentle old man, respected for his rigorous scholarship and amiable nature.

Beside him sat a voluptuous, languid-eyed female teacher. Dressed in a black suit, her chest strained against the fabric in a way that was almost explosive, commanding attention.

This was Ms. Tang Zhixuan, the martial arts teacher for Class Five, whom Xiao Nan recalled seeing before in his memories—but this was his first time meeting her in real life.

Several boys nearby stole glances at Ms. Tang, their eyes eager and their breaths somewhat heavy.

Xiao Nan understood: these were the hopeless youths clinging to adolescent fantasies, determined to impress her.

Yet, seeing Tang Zhixuan’s detached demeanor, Xiao Nan knew their dreams were just that—dreams. In her eyes, they were probably nothing more than children, unworthy of notice.

Contrary to expectations, both the Vice Principal and Director were present, showing the school’s seriousness regarding the skills competition.

It made sense. Spirit testing was intangible—without specialized equipment, the school could only estimate levels and pass students roughly.

But martial arts had a clear standard. Whether students met the requirements affected the school’s university admission rates.

They needed to accurately gauge students’ abilities and prevent anyone from slipping through the cracks, so there wouldn’t be embarrassment during the university entrance exams.

Imagine claiming to have reached the skilled Blood Coagulation stage during the school test, only to fall short in front of the education department at the unified testing center—wouldn’t that disgrace the school?

Should scholarships be awarded to such students?

Vice Principal Wang cleared his throat and announced loudly, “Students, as you can see, today’s test is different from usual—it’s real weapons, real combat…

Though the weapons are not sharpened, they are still dangerous. If you’re hit, broken bones and torn muscles are not unlikely.

If you’re afraid of injury, you may withdraw and skip the competition.”

No one spoke.

“Very good. Since everyone is confident, let’s begin. Results matter, but the contest should be restrained—follow the matchups submitted by your class monitors.”

Xiao Nan saw Vice Principal Lin’s solemn expression and expected a lengthy speech, as some officials would give in his previous life. Instead, Lin simply declared the test open in a few concise words.

Hearing the last sentence, Xiao Nan had a revelation. He turned and saw Lin Hao smiling at him.

No need to ask. The matchups submitted by class monitors—Lin Hao must have paired himself against Xiao Nan.

“Still unwilling to give up? So eager to be someone’s lapdog?”

Knowing the reason behind this unwanted ordeal, Xiao Nan realized he couldn’t avoid a showdown with Lin Hao.

His father was seated on the podium, after all.

The burly Xiong Bing sidled over and whispered, “Did you talk to Qin Shuang about this? From Lin Hao’s attitude, it’s clear he’s up to no good. If you really fight, who knows what’ll happen.”

“No worries. Did you hear what the Vice Principal said? Control yourselves, winning or losing doesn’t matter.”

“How can you be so careless?” Xiong Bing shook his head in disappointment. “You’ll see soon. If you’re humiliated or injured, don’t blame your brother for not warning you.”

With that, he stormed off, refusing to speak further. Clearly, he thought Xiao Nan’s fate was bleak and saw no point in befriending him.

Xiao Nan looked at Xiong Bing with a half-smile. This fellow was a bit too enthusiastic—like the eunuch worrying more than the emperor. What was he really plotting?

Was he trying to pull the Qin family in, to confront the Li family directly?

Which side did he represent?

Whatever Xiong Bing was up to, Xiao Nan didn’t care. He hadn’t bothered with the trivial affairs of Yuanjiang City.

His goal was clear: pass the exam and enter the Martial Arts University for further study.

To see a different world.

Anyone who dared to stand in his way would be cut down, without hesitation.