Chapter 10: Freshmen Registration

The first day of the new term arrived swiftly and unceremoniously. Xu Huiping still had thoughts about Zhang Pu, perhaps due to some unspoken pressure from her husband, Hong Guishan.

On the eve of the new semester, both Xu Huiping and Hong Guishan called Zhang Pu, insisting he come over for dinner. They also declared that the next day, Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying would escort him to the new school.

It was difficult to refuse such earnestness, and considering the longstanding relationship between his parents and their family, Zhang Pu naturally didn’t decline.

He went, treating it as a courtesy owed between family friends, nothing more. During dinner, Hong Guishan was as bland as ever; Xu Huiping displayed a forced, deliberate warmth. As for Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying, Zhang Pu found them as delicate and fragile as porcelain dolls.

Though their disdain for a country bumpkin like him was veiled, Zhang Pu could see straight through it. He was unfazed; in fact, he felt fortunate to have decisively refused their perfunctory offer to have him live with them. Otherwise, he would have gone mad from the stifling atmosphere. Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying might possess some beauty, but what of it? In this vast world, there were countless girls more beautiful and accomplished than them.

Still, Zhang Pu conducted himself impeccably during dinner—an air of maturity from his thousand years in the immortal realm that even managed to surprise Hong Guishan.

Without betraying his thoughts, Zhang Pu agreed to let Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying accompany him to the new school the next day.

He bore no grudge against their covert contempt or the perfunctory social formalities. He resolved that should their family ever face difficulty, he would help if he could—if not for their sake, then for his parents’.

On the first day of term, Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying, though clearly reluctant, didn’t dare defy the instructions of Hong Guishan and Xu Huiping. Escorting Zhang Pu onto the campus, their lips curled in barely concealed disdain, as though mortified to be seen with a country bumpkin.

Zhang Pu, however, moved with unselfconscious poise. He did not feel ashamed of his plainness beside them. Having spent a millennium in the world of cultivation, what had he not seen? What prejudice could disturb the tranquil depths of his heart?

No sooner had the trio entered the campus than students who recognized Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying began to tease them—some asked which of them Zhang Pu was dating; others feigned shock, joking that both girls now had boyfriends and wanted to know who this newcomer was; some subtly disparaged Zhang Pu; others found new ways to needle.

Verbal taunts came in all forms.

Zhang Pu understood: though this private school liked to claim parity with the prestigious public No. 1 High School and did indeed boast some outstanding students, the influence of money and connections meant that all sorts gathered here. It was inevitable that there would be some brash and ill-mannered scions among them.

Though, on this public occasion and his first day at school, no one dared lay hands on him, Zhang Pu’s gaze had already turned cold. After all his battles in the immortal realm, he was utterly transformed from the timid youth he once was.

In this life, anyone who dared insult him would find themselves beaten into submission.

But for now, it wasn’t yet time for Zhang Pu to act. Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying responded with sharp retorts to those they deemed beneath them, but when the crowd began to turn on them, they swiftly dragged Zhang Pu away from the forming encirclement.

Having paraded him like an exhibit, Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying’s resentment toward Zhang Pu only deepened. Yet Zhang Pu remained as calm as a passing cloud: Soon enough, you two, along with everyone else, will learn what it means to be utterly humiliated.

This first day, he’d give the troublemakers a warning, as was the custom in the immortal world—a gesture of courtesy before resorting to force.

At last, Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying took Zhang Pu to the teacher. Thanks to Hong Guishan’s prior arrangements, everything went smoothly, and Zhang Pu was assigned to Class 10 of the senior year.

He soon learned that this modern high school was quite large—there were ten classes in the final year. He was placed in the last class, not with Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying. What kind of class was Class 10? Zhang Pu didn’t concern himself. It made no difference to him. Attending this school was just a pretense; his real purpose here was cultivation—something no one else was aware of.

Still, the look of relief and satisfaction on Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying’s faces at not sharing a class with him irked him slightly. Damn it! To you two, am I some kind of plague?

Yet one day, when you finally understand what I’m capable of, you’ll come begging, eager to throw yourselves at my feet.

Though things hadn’t gone perfectly, as they were about to send Zhang Pu off to his new classroom, Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying, as if suddenly struck by conscience, began to brief him on the rules of modern high school. They warned that if even the two of them couldn’t protect him from someone extorting “protection money,” he should grit his teeth and endure—it was only one year, after all—and not go home complaining to Hong Guishan or Xu Huiping. Some people were beyond their control; even reporting to the teachers would only bring harsher retaliation.

Good grief! After hearing their well-intentioned advice, Zhang Pu could only curse inwardly. He’d long heard that some city schools had unsavory elements.

Still, he decided not to flaunt his strength before Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying. With a thousand years of experience from the immortal world, he knew the value of patience.

So, as at dinner the previous night, Zhang Pu responded with quiet maturity, though to Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying it seemed merely an act.

He reassured them, saying he was a senior now, no longer a child, and understood the importance of bearing humiliation for a greater purpose.

Wu Xiaomei and Hong Yingying laughed and hurried off, their expressions betraying a secret hope that Zhang Pu would be bullied at this school, as if that would finally satisfy some hidden resentment.

Zhang Pu watched their retreating figures, shaking his head in mild exasperation, though he couldn’t help but praise their laughter—so clear, like silver bells.

But as he turned away, he made a silent vow: If anyone in Class 10 dared try to extort protection money from him, he would make them drink their own urine.