No matter how much resentment he carried, life had to go on. Fang Ping could only passively accept reality.
After a bit of idle chatter, the homeroom teacher—hair already flecked with gray—strode into the classroom.
Once the room quieted down, he went straight to the point:
"Those of you signing up for the Martial Arts Exam, head to my office later to pay the registration fee and fill out the form. After that, the academic office will handle the unified application."
As he spoke, his gaze naturally lingered on the students who were planning to register.
In truth, the Martial Arts Exam wasn't some mystery.
As their teacher, he already had a good idea of who in his class would apply.
You needed top grades, a strong body, and a decent family background. With so many filters, it was easy to guess. The students themselves also had a rough sense of who qualified.
Yangcheng was officially called a "city," but in reality, it was just a county-level city in the interior. Economically, it was a bit better than most counties, but nowhere near the coastal areas.
In Yangcheng, very few people could treat ten thousand yuan as pocket change.
That one registration fee alone was enough to block out most students.
After finishing his instructions, the teacher left.
Those who planned to apply began standing up one after another, ready to head to the office.
Yang Jian, who sat in the row ahead of Fang Ping, rose to his feet.
Beside him, Zhang Hao—the one who had spread the news two days ago about Brother Ma breaking through to the eighth rank—also stood.
Just as they were about to leave, Fang Ping leisurely pushed back his chair and stood up.
His deskmate Chen Fan blinked in surprise and asked, "Bathroom?"
"Registration."
"…Huh?"
Chen Fan was dumbfounded. Fang Ping was signing up?
Not just him—Yang Jian turned back in surprise.
"Fang Ping, you too?"
He didn't mean anything bad by it, but his voice carried enough astonishment that the whole class turned to look.
Everyone had studied together for years; they knew each other's circumstances.
It wasn't that Fang Ping couldn't sign up. But with his scrawny frame…
To be fair, Fang Ping was healthier than Chen Fan, but compared to Yang Jian, he didn't stand a chance.
Grades and written tests were one thing. But what about the physical exam and practical trials? Could Fang Ping clear those hurdles?
While Yang Jian was still processing his surprise, Zhang Hao clicked his tongue and said with mock admiration,
"Fang Ping, you sly fox! Always skipping after-school training with us, huh? You must've been practicing in secret. Too sneaky!"
He was exaggerating, but his tone wasn't mocking.
Everyone just found it odd. For Fang Ping's family, ten thousand yuan was no small matter. If he dared to spend it, he must have some confidence hidden away.
Fang Ping just grinned.
"Don't overthink it. I'm a natural-born genius—why would I need extra practice?
It's only ten thousand yuan. If I don't try, how will I know if I can make it? Who knows, maybe they'll suddenly expand the quotas this year. Wouldn't that be a windfall for me?"
"Hah! Keep dreaming!"
Zhang Hao burst out laughing.
But Fang Ping's words planted a seed of temptation in the hearts of those who hadn't planned to register.
What if there really was an expansion this year?
In past years, Yangcheng First High usually only produced two or three martial students. But last year, five had passed.
What if this year the number rose even higher?
The thought was enticing, but not enough to change anyone's mind. If they hadn't registered already, they had their reasons. Fang Ping's bravado only stirred the water, nothing more.
Chen Fan's expression grew complicated.
He knew registering didn't mean passing. But Fang Ping's family was poorer than his, yet Fang Ping still dared to try. Compared to that, Chen Fan suddenly felt cowardly.
His fingers clenched around his pen, but in the end, he stayed put.
Even if he registered, his odds were slimmer than Fang Ping's. Better to pour that energy into academics.
…
Fang Ping ignored the others' reactions and followed the group out of the classroom toward the teacher's office upstairs.
In Class 4, only eight students—including Fang Ping—chose to sign up.
That was actually a higher ratio than usual for a "regular" class.
If not for the two ordinary-class students who had passed last year, there might have been only four or five this time.
Some schools didn't even have a handful of applicants across the entire senior grade.
A quick glance told Fang Ping that all the others were the class elites.
Not just good grades—more importantly, their physiques were solid, well-proportioned.
Even Yang Jian, burly and bearded, wasn't exactly a bad student. Otherwise, he wouldn't qualify.
There were even two girls in the group. Their looks weren't particularly striking, but their bodies were clearly well-trained. Compared to the undeveloped beanpoles in class, these two had eaten and exercised their way into shape for the exam.
Yang Jian and Zhang Hao kept sneaking glances their way.
Everyone else already knew each other well. Martial exam prep wasn't something you crammed in a day. They often trained together after school, and some even took outside prep classes.
Fang Ping was the odd one out, a latecomer.
That made him the most interesting.
One of the girls—Zhang Nan—kept stealing glances at him before finally asking,
"Fang Ping, what's your Vitality score?"
"Uh…"
Fang Ping froze. Am I supposed to say I'm at 1.1?
Problem was, he didn't even know how it was measured in reality or what the units were.
Luckily, Yang Jian jumped in with a laugh.
"Zhang Nan, he probably never got tested. If he had, he'd have been bragging about it ages ago."
Zhang Hao chimed in,
"Yeah, no way he's higher than me with that skinny body."
"Tch, stop bluffing."
Zhang Nan rolled her eyes. Since Fang Ping wasn't answering, she didn't press.
She sighed instead.
"Our class is probably just here to make up the numbers again. I checked last time—my highest peak was only 108 calories. I'll need to down more supplements before the physical."
Yang Jian grinned.
"I'm a little better. Last test, I peaked at 112 calories."
"Calories" (卡) was the unit for measuring Vitality. Clearly, the higher the better.
Fang Ping, having never been tested, asked casually,
"Who's the highest in our class?"
The boy leading the group turned back with a bright smile.
"That'd be me, I guess. My peak last time was 115 calories."
Fang Ping recognized him—same person as in his previous life, though the world was now different.
Wu Zhihao.
He wasn't class monitor or anything. Students with martial ambitions didn't have time to waste on class duties.
Wu Zhihao added, shaking his head,
"Still, compared to the elite class, we're behind. I heard Zhou Bin's peak is over 120 calories. Unless something goes wrong, his chances are practically guaranteed."
"Haha, Zhihao, maybe you should hire someone to break his leg. That'd save us one competitor," Zhang Hao joked.
Wu Zhihao rolled his eyes.
"It's not like the exam's limited to our school. Even if Zhou Bin failed, it wouldn't change our odds much. Otherwise, I might actually consider it."
"Anyway, it's worth a shot," Zhang Hao said cheerfully.
"Last year, South Jiang Martial University's cutoff was only 112 calories. Even if it's higher this year, it won't be by much. You should be fine."
Wu Zhihao shook his head again.
"No, the standard rises every year. I'd bet at least 115 this time.
And Vitality alone isn't enough. There are other tests.
It depends not just on your own score, but how you stack up against everyone else. If others are weak, we stand a chance. But if everyone's strong, even great scores won't cut it."
The Martial Arts Exam was like the liberal arts college exam: quotas were fixed, and cutoffs shifted depending on the competition.
One year, 112 calories might be enough. The next, if everyone was stronger, you could fail even at 115.
Standards almost never went down. Each year, with better nutrition and training, the bar only rose.
According to Wu Zhihao, out of their class's eight applicants—including Fang Ping—only three had crossed 110 calories: himself, Yang Jian, and the quiet girl Liu Ruoqi.
The rest were under, though Zhang Hao wasn't far. With enough supplements, he might push past 110 before the exam.
That wasn't considered cheating. In this era, true Vitality-boosting supplements were expensive luxuries. Those who could afford them had wealth backing them.
Wealth determined your future. It wasn't absolute, but it was the norm.
Zhang Hao hadn't taken his yet, saving them for right before the exam to maximize short-term effects.
Others were the same.
Except Fang Ping.
His decision to sign up was so sudden that his parents hadn't prepared anything.
Unbeknownst to him, though, his father Fang Mingrong was already wrestling with the idea of buying supplements for him.
But those things cost tens of thousands at minimum. For now, Old Fang hadn't decided.
Listening to the others, Fang Ping thought to himself, So my Vitality of 1.1 probably equals 110 calories?
It was very likely.
But even at 110, he wasn't impressive.
Wu Zhihao already had 115. And in the elite class, plenty must have broken 110.
Last year's cutoff at South Jiang Martial University was 112, yes. But this year? Who knew.
Looks like I'll need to push harder. At least clear the first three stages before worrying about what comes after.
While he was deep in thought, the group arrived at the office.
(End of Chapter)