Chapter 36: The Reason

When Mouse Beibei saw Chen Meng return, it squeaked eagerly. Chen Meng knew at once that the little rascal was hungry and waiting for the roast chicken he had promised.

“Here you go,” he said, pulling the roast chicken out of his backpack and handing it over to Beibei. The mouse took the chicken, pushed its textbooks aside, and began to feast excitedly. Chen Meng took advantage of this distraction to slip into the bathroom and freshen up.

By the time he returned, Beibei had already demolished the entire roast chicken and disposed of all the trash in the bin. Such a considerate little mouse!

“Let’s study,” Chen Meng suggested. The two settled down at opposite sides of the desk, one human and one mouse, each entering a studious state of mind.

Suddenly, Chen Meng heard Beibei squeaking again. “What is it?” he asked, looking over. Beibei was pointing at a math problem in the textbook—a quirky middle school math question.

The problem went like this: A man buys a chicken for 8 yuan, sells it for 9 yuan, decides it’s not worth it, buys it back for 10 yuan, and finally sells it to someone else for 11 yuan. How much did he earn in total?

Chen Meng’s first reaction was alarm: Was this little mouse doubting the real price of roast chicken?

He cleared his throat and began to explain, “Beibei, this is just a hypothetical question. Think about it—how could delicious roast chicken cost less than ten yuan? Besides, it’s roast chicken! The chef slaughters and cleans the bird, uses all sorts of ingredients, and follows a complex process to create that delicious dish. The labor alone costs a fortune, and the chicken I bought for you is genuine free-range, which costs ten times more than ordinary chicken. So the price…”

But Beibei squeaked again, cutting off his speech. Chen Meng was puzzled; had he not explained enough?

Beibei pointed at the answer printed after the question, which read: “2”. It seemed very confused about this answer.

Chen Meng finally understood—the mouse was asking him to explain why the answer was 2.

To be honest, the Chen Meng of his middle school days could have easily explained it, but now he struggled to recall the logic. In the end, he gave Beibei the simplest, most straightforward explanation he could muster. Once the mouse understood, it squeaked excitedly.

***

The next day, on his way to school, Chen Meng noticed something was off. There were unfamiliar faces around his neighborhood and the nearby old residential areas.

“Something big has happened,” he muttered inwardly. These strangers must be here because of Wang Jie’s death.

How could this be? Hadn’t that incident already blown over?

He began to suspect he might have unwittingly gotten involved in something serious. Could Wang Jie have been the illegitimate son of some important figure?

Little did he know, all these people were actually searching for Mouse Beibei.

From then on, Chen Meng became even more cautious. This also reminded him that he needed to find a way to deal with the remaining money from Wang Jie as soon as possible.

In the blink of an eye, it was Saturday again. Chen Meng carefully hid Beibei away so his parents wouldn’t discover the mouse and left plenty of snacks behind. Then, with his backpack slung over his shoulder, he headed out.

At the martial arts school, Mo Xiaoyi was already waiting for him.

“Senior, is the old man not coming again today?” Chen Meng asked. That old fellow was truly unreliable.

“No, he’s not,” Mo Xiaoyi replied. “Remember I told you there were four students? The other three all withdrew last week. When the old man saw there were no more students, he stopped coming altogether.”

Chen Meng laughed to himself. With the school closed most of the time, it was no wonder everyone had left.

Wait, doesn’t that mean I’m the only student left?

“Junior, you’re not thinking of dropping out too, are you?” Mo Xiaoyi eyed Chen Meng suspiciously.

“Of course not! I have a real attachment to this school, such a great senior, such a great master—where else would I find that? Dropping out? That’ll never happen, not in a million years,” Chen Meng replied with a smile. He wasn’t foolish; just the fact that the old man’s son was Major General Hong Qing meant he couldn’t possibly quit. Regardless of whether the old man was truly some extraordinary being, having that connection could one day be a valuable asset if he ever joined the military. Besides, he still suspected the old man was hiding his true power, masquerading as a harmless fool.

“Let’s continue with today’s training,” Mo Xiaoyi said, though he no longer offered Chen Meng any guidance.

“Fine, looks like I’m on my own again.” So Chen Meng practiced the breathing technique and the little lotus step the old man had taught him. The combination was indeed effective: previously, he could only last about ten minutes before feeling exhausted, after which his speed and strength would decline, and he’d have to push himself to get through half an hour. But now, after half an hour, he was only just starting to feel tired—his stamina had doubled.

This time, unlike before, Mo Xiaoyi finally noticed something unusual about Chen Meng. When Chen Meng paused to rest, Mo Xiaoyi approached him and asked, “Junior, have you learned the old man’s breathing technique?”

Chen Meng was surprised; he hadn’t expected Mo Xiaoyi to know about it.

Seeing him nod, Mo Xiaoyi sighed, “I studied under the old man for two years before he taught me that breathing method. You’ve only just joined, and he’s already passed it on to you.”

Chen Meng smiled to himself. Oh, senior, you really have no idea about pay-to-win. The old man only taught you after two years because you never spent a dime.

Look at me—I paid ten thousand and got the breathing technique right away.

But that old man is sly, too; he claimed Mo Xiaoyi never learned it, but clearly Mo Xiaoyi got it without paying a cent.

“Practice well. This breathing technique is very useful—it works with the little lotus step, and you can use it in sparring, running, even just walking, to help manage your stamina. With long-term practice, it can even increase your strength,” Mo Xiaoyi told him earnestly.

Chen Meng nodded. The old man had said the same thing before.

At noon, the two of them sat down to eat. Chen Meng remembered Wang Jie and asked curiously, “Senior, Wang Jie was a hardworking guy, right? Why did your school never assign him the advancement serum?”

Mo Xiaoyi hesitated, then explained, “In second-tier universities, each school only gets a limited number of advancement serums annually. Even Jiangzhou University, one of the better second-tier schools, can only provide enough for about seventy percent of its students to advance to divine-body status. So the school has a strict allocation system that considers grades, psychological state, financial situation, and character. Wang Jie came from a poor background, was introverted, and twice failed psychological assessments out of three attempts, so the school never considered him for the serum. In the end, they only planned to give it to him because of his decent grades and diligence.”

“I see,” Chen Meng replied, understanding at last. It wasn’t that the school was unfair—Wang Jie’s own circumstances were the problem.

In fact, Mo Xiaoyi hadn’t mentioned the rest: even if the school had finally decided to give Wang Jie the serum, because of his situation he would have been kept under observation for another year before graduation. The school wanted to see if advancing to divine-body status would change his psychological state. But before that could happen, Wang Jie took desperate measures, stole the advancement serum, and was ultimately killed by Chen Meng.

“So, junior, if your grades are good, make sure you strive for a top-tier university. Second-tier schools really can’t compare with the key universities in terms of resources. As far as I know, even if the top schools have a similar assessment system, they’ll still make sure every student can advance to divine-body status before graduation.”

“Yes, I’ve already decided to apply to Jiangdu University.”

“Impressive,” said Mo Xiaoyi. He had wanted to apply to Jiangdu University himself, but his rune scores had been too low and he’d ended up at Jiangzhou University instead.

That afternoon, Chen Meng left the martial arts school. He’d brought all of Wang Jie’s money with him, intending to spend it at last. It was no longer safe to keep it on him.