Chapter 39: Ninety Points

Han Hao understood well that finding a single rat in a city as large as Jiangzhou was next to impossible. As soon as it burrowed underground, unless they were truly prepared to dig three feet deep, searching for this rat would be nothing more than a fool’s dream.

But since the rat knew the perpetrator, things became much simpler. Find the murderer, and the rat would be found as well; it was always easier to catch a person than a rat.

Han Hao dared not waste another moment. He immediately called his team together, borrowed members from other squads, and planned a sweep of three residential districts within a one-kilometer radius, totaling sixty thousand residents.

He glanced at nearly a hundred law enforcement officers before him and spoke slowly, “The murderer is most likely in the three districts I’ve marked. Start investigating all residents in these areas. Use any plausible excuse, don’t arouse suspicion. Focus especially on those with a history of military service, university students, or anyone who has used firearms. For someone to fire five consecutive shots with such precision, it’s almost impossible unless they’re accustomed to shooting—this is a clear characteristic. Also, refer to the psychological profile we’ve constructed, though it’s only a guide.”

The clues left behind by the murderer were sparse; the psychological profile was vague, so it could only serve as a reference. After issuing these orders, Han Hao estimated that, at the earliest, three days, and at the latest, five days, they would have results. As long as the murderer lived in one of these districts, escape would be impossible.

With Han Hao’s operation underway, Jiang Lan soon received word. After all, they were both in the Enforcement Bureau; such a large-scale action could not be hidden from her.

She pondered briefly, deciding it was necessary to report this information.

At her usual bookstore, she looked across the table at a man and said, “The crescent moon hangs high, the Holy Faith endures forever!”

“Let’s skip the ceremony. What’s the news?” The man knew Jiang Lan didn’t believe in such rituals.

Jiang Lan nodded and relayed what she knew.

The man considered for a moment. “This intelligence is important. I’ll report it to the Protector.”

The local leader of the Crescent Cult in Jiangzhou was a Protector, whose rank was only second to the Elder responsible for the entire province.

Jiang Lan cared little for this. She was here for another purpose. “That’s your business. Please send me the potion I need as soon as possible. I’ve given you the information; what you achieve with it is none of my concern.”

All she wanted was the advancement potion; nothing was more urgent to her.

The man glanced at Jiang Lan, hesitated briefly, then said, “Very well. Tomorrow, the potion will be delivered to your home.”

Satisfied, Jiang Lan nodded. With the advancement potion, she could become a Divine Body.

…

Monday arrived, and Chen Meng went to work as usual.

He noticed that the investigators who had been combing through the old neighborhood yesterday were gone. He didn’t realize Han Hao had changed tactics; he thought the Enforcement Bureau had given up. After so many days without progress, continuing the search seemed pointless.

In his classroom, the morning lesson was on artifact forging. The so-called forging wasn’t like the cultivation novels, but rather the drawing of runes on various implements; refining materials was also part of the process.

For example, his dagger and combat suit both had runes etched onto them. The reason the dagger cost more was simple—its small size made rune engraving far more difficult. The material of the dagger also played a part.

Tuesday came swiftly. In the afternoon, the alchemy test was held as scheduled. As the test papers were handed out, Tang Wenjing glanced at Chen Meng, seemingly unintentionally.

“Just like the real exam—do your own paper, don’t look at anyone else’s,” Zhang Dali said, casting a meaningful look at Chen Meng, not forgetting his previous promise. After a moment’s thought, he added, “Chen Meng, come here. Do your paper at the teacher’s desk.”

Chen Meng was dumbstruck. Was that really necessary?

But having already flipped through six hundred and two pages of runes, he wasn’t worried.

“Alright.” He replied, took his test paper, and moved to the desk, dragging over the chair the self-study teacher usually sat in.

He began answering the questions.

“This test is quite considerate—many questions are from the first six hundred pages. I think I can easily score a hundred. But I said I’d just pass, so I’ll aim for a passing grade. Any extra points would be wasted; must be frugal,” Chen Meng murmured as he started.

He skipped anything he didn’t know, leaving it blank, but answered everything he was sure about flawlessly.

After exactly one hour, he looked over his answers—ninety points, precisely.

“Teacher, I’d like to hand in my paper,” Chen Meng announced, rising from his seat. His words startled everyone.

Only an hour, and you’re finished?

The test was two and a half hours long—how could he be so flamboyant?

Ma Yiqun gazed at Chen Meng in awe. Even class monitor Ni Hu was shocked; he’d barely completed questions worth one hundred points.

“Won’t you check again? Are you sure you passed?” Zhang Dali eyed Chen Meng suspiciously. “It’s best to check again. Don’t rush to hand in. It’s the same as the college entrance exam—never submit early. That test determines your fate; one more careful review and your life could change. I made that mistake myself—otherwise, I wouldn’t have ended up at a second-tier university, missing out on the Divine Body potion.”

Hearing Zhang Dali’s personal story, everyone found it persuasive.

“I’ve checked thoroughly,” Chen Meng replied with a smile. “Teacher, if there’s nothing else, I’ll leave early so I don’t disturb the others.”

“Alright then,” Zhang Dali said after a moment’s thought.

In this world, student departures were loosely managed. As long as the subject teacher approved, the school didn’t interfere.

Teachers held considerable authority; unlike in the previous era, where even leaving class a few minutes early could result in a report.

After Chen Meng left, Zhang Dali went to the desk and picked up his paper. The vast stretches of blank spaces made Zhang Dali furious.

But as he examined Chen Meng’s answers, his anger gave way to astonishment.

All correct. Not a single mistake.

He tallied the points—ninety, not one more, not one less.

“How is that possible?” Zhang Dali murmured.

The classroom was quiet during the exam, so his words were easily overheard.

All the students looked up at Zhang Dali.

He, still unaware, muttered, “He said he’d score ninety, and that’s exactly what he did. Clearly, his ability is not just ninety—there are plenty of easy questions left. If he’d answered a few more, he’d have scored at least one hundred and twenty. He’s been hiding his talent, and for three whole years! This guy is terrifying!”

The class erupted.

The teacher said what?

Chen Meng really passed?

Tang Wenjing found it hard to believe. She recalled Chen Meng’s words and couldn’t help but mutter inwardly, “Maybe he was telling the truth—his alchemy scores might be better than mine.”

Class monitor Ni Hu felt pressure—what if Chen Meng one day became the top student?

Ma Yiqun’s mind buzzed; he felt Chen Meng truly might get into Jiangdu University.

“Alright, everyone, continue with your papers,” Zhang Dali said, feeling quite pleased. If Chen Meng truly got into Jiangdu University, his own bonus would increase.

…

Once outside, Chen Meng headed straight for the martial arts gym.

At the entrance, he spotted an electric scooter parked—he recognized it as the old man’s personal ride.

“Looks like the old man’s at the gym,” Chen Meng muttered. That scooter was unmistakable.

Sure enough, as soon as he entered, he saw the old man.

“Master, you finally came to the gym,” Chen Meng said cheerfully. “Come on, see if you have any secret techniques left to teach me.”

“Did you master what I taught last time? Always looking for more, you’ll bite off more than you can chew, you know.” The old man was tidying up, seemingly unwilling to pay Chen Meng much attention.

Chen Meng was speechless, but seeing the old man so busy, he grew curious. “Master, what are you doing, rummaging through everything? Missing something?”

The old man paused, a little sulky. “Lost at cards. I’m checking what I can pawn, sell it for cash and try again.”

Chen Meng was dumbfounded. Last time, the old man had won ten thousand from him, and now it was all gone?

How much had he gambled away!

Smiling to himself, Chen Meng offered, “Master, how about you explain Ghost Lotus Step in detail again? I’ll give you a thousand for your card games.”

The old man’s eyes lit up, but he snorted, “A thousand? What do you take your seventh grandpa for?”

Chen Meng was skeptical; the old man’s expression was off.

“Three thousand, minimum!” The old man habitually extended one finger.

Chen Meng rolled his eyes. Last time he asked for twenty thousand, he used the same gesture.

“Deal.” Chen Meng didn’t haggle. Without waiting for the old man, he went over and scanned the code to transfer the money.

“Payment received: Three thousand yuan!”

Hearing the familiar notification, the old man’s face bloomed into a grin.

He kept his promise, immediately launching into the lesson. “Ghost Lotus Step is the pinnacle of ancient martial footwork. Mastering it requires proper breathing techniques, knowing how to exert force with your feet, your arms, even down to each bone. Without understanding these, you’ll only mimic the form. Real experts can spot your flaws instantly…”

Listening to him, Chen Meng felt a sudden clarity.

Finally, the old man recalled, “I think there are some ancient martial arts books in the back hall. You can take a look.”

Books to learn from? Studying was his forte!