Inside the office.
Pay the fee, register, fill out the application form—the process was simple.
When no one was paying attention, Fang Ping once again ran a little test, casually brushing his hand over the other students' registration fees.
As expected, his Wealth Value didn't increase.
Fang Ping had already guessed as much, so he wasn't disappointed.
There weren't many people, and the registration was quickly wrapped up.
The homeroom teacher gathered the students' application forms and swept his gaze across the eight in front of him. These eight were Class (4)'s only hope of producing Martial Arts candidates this year.
For the others, the teacher already had a fair grasp of their situation. The only exception was Fang Ping.
As Fang Ping's homeroom teacher, Liu Anguo had attended parent-teacher meetings before. He knew exactly what kind of family background Fang Ping came from.
Still, every year there were always students who wanted to give it a shot, so while it was unexpected, it was also within reason.
Reining in his thoughts, Liu Anguo said:
"Two days from now, on the 9th, Wang Jinyang from Nanjiang Martial University will be returning to give you all some guidance before the exam. You should all know about this already, so make sure you attend."
The group nodded quickly. Having an upperclassman share experience was always helpful.
"At that time, the school will also distribute the official Martial Arts exam schedule and important notices. Read them carefully."
Though he was their homeroom teacher, Liu Anguo mostly taught academic subjects. Martial Arts was only lightly touched upon in his classes.
The school had specialized Martial Arts prep courses, and there were even private Martial Arts tutors outside—those were the true avenues for serious preparation.
Most of the students present had at least attended some classes or even hired a private tutor.
When Liu Anguo scanned the group, he knew that the only one who hadn't done either… was probably Fang Ping.
He didn't even need to ask. If Fang Ping had attended, his father would have mentioned it at the meetings.
Sighing inwardly, Liu Anguo suddenly stood, crouched to open a drawer in his desk, and after rummaging around, he pulled out a thick stack of books. Placing them on the desk, he said to Fang Ping:
"See if there's anything useful here. The others have already gone through the school's Martial Arts training courses, so they all have these materials. If you're missing anything, take them."
Fang Ping was a little taken aback. But truth be told, this was exactly what he needed right now. He hurriedly said, "Thank you, teacher!"
Liu Anguo didn't make a big deal out of it. Though these books weren't cheap—hundreds of yuan at least—if he could give a little help to a poor student, he didn't mind.
Seeing Fang Ping clutch all the books like a treasure trove, Liu Anguo couldn't help but chuckle helplessly.
Judging by this reaction, the boy really had done no preparation at all. Otherwise, he wouldn't have taken even the most basic, common materials.
Though he had little hope for Fang Ping, as a teacher he still hesitated for a moment before turning to Wu Zhihao.
"Fang Ping isn't as familiar with the Martial Arts exam as you all are. With so little time left, it'll be difficult for him to digest all this material. Wu Zhihao, could you have a copy made of your prep notes for him?"
Compared to the books, student-made notes were much more effective—summarized key points, exam focuses, organized material.
Wu Zhihao was the best in Class (4), with the highest chance of passing. Having his notes was worth far more than generic textbooks.
Still, notes were personal. Even a teacher couldn't force it—he could only ask.
Fang Ping was already deeply grateful for the books. He never imagined his teacher would go so far as to ask someone else for notes on his behalf.
In his previous life, his homeroom teacher had also been good, but Fang Ping had been a middling student, never close to the teacher. They hadn't interacted much.
He hadn't expected this teacher to be even more conscientious.
It wasn't his fault I wasn't prepared, yet he still went this far…
Before Wu Zhihao could reply, Fang Ping quickly said: "Teacher Liu, it's fine, really—no need to trouble him…"
But before he could finish, Wu Zhihao laughed and said:
"It's no problem. I'll have a copy made. Honestly, whether it's useful for you is another question."
He wasn't worried about discouraging Fang Ping. The truth was, everyone knew—even Wu Zhihao himself wasn't sure if he'd make it past the fourth stage, the professional exam.
Since the teacher had asked, Wu Zhihao didn't want to refuse.
Since Wu Zhihao had agreed, Fang Ping stopped being overly polite and expressed his thanks.
Looking at the pile of books, Fang Ping's head was already spinning. Having access to Wu Zhihao's notes would save him a lot of wasted time.
With that, the registration process was done.
Liu Anguo dismissed the group back to class while he stayed behind to continue grading papers.
…
Leaving the office, Wu Zhihao said to Fang Ping:
"Some of my notes are at home. If you're in a hurry, you can come with me tonight to get them. If not, I'll bring them tomorrow."
Already indebted, Fang Ping didn't dare ask him to carry more of the burden. He quickly said: "I'll go with you tonight. I really can't thank you enough."
"No need to be polite, we're classmates."
Wu Zhihao smiled: "We're just a regular class. The odds of getting into Martial Arts University are tiny. We're not competitors. But let me give you some honest advice—don't take it the wrong way.
Until you pass the physical test, these books aren't worth looking at. You'd just be wasting time.
If you make it past the test, then it'll be worth diving into all this material.
The Martial Arts exam has a wide range of content, but in truth, the focus is pretty consistent each year.
For us, the hardest parts aren't the academic or professional exams—it's the physical checkup and the live assessment.
Those are the real hurdles, the ones that eliminate the most people."
Just as he finished, Yang Jian groaned: "Seriously? Then why do I feel like the professional exam and academic part are already killing me?"
Wu Zhihao ignored him. Opinions varied.
Fang Ping nodded again and again. He was still green, and listening to others' experience was no harm.
After a moment, he asked: "Um… where do we go for the Qi and Blood check?"
As a sudden last-minute candidate, he didn't feel embarrassed about not knowing. The others didn't find it odd either.
Yang Jian quickly answered:
"The Qi and Blood meter is only at the First People's Hospital here in Yangcheng. The machine's too expensive, and Yangcheng's too small to have more than one."
Zhang Hao added a reminder:
"Fang Ping, if I were you, I wouldn't bother. Not trying to discourage you, but it's too late to boost your Qi and Blood anyway.
The test costs a fortune—5,000 yuan per check, no discounts.
With the physical test coming up soon, you might as well just wait until then."
"Five thousand?!"
Fang Ping was floored. That's daylight robbery!
But with a monopoly business like this, and Martial Arts candidates eager to know their condition early, the hospital wasn't short on customers.
He'd wanted to understand his situation, but at this price, he had to give up.
Perhaps sensing his thoughts, Wu Zhihao chuckled:
"The hospital's Qi and Blood machine is a large model. It's very accurate—able to measure fluctuations and peak values.
But since it's your first time, you don't really need such precision.
When you come to my place tonight for the notes, you can try my home machine.
It's a smaller model, not very accurate—about five Caloria up or down—but it'll give you a ballpark figure."
"What? You've got one at home?"
The others were shocked.
Even a small Qi and Blood meter was expensive. A margin of error of five Caloria was already considered huge.
Still, even second-hand, it was a staggering amount of money for most.
At the very least, tens of thousands.
Wu Zhihao grinned:
"It's second-hand, so it wasn't that much. But I need frequent checks. The hospital's too expensive and time-consuming, so my dad bought me one. It's good enough for rough estimates."
That much was true. For serious candidates, what they needed was precision. A five-Caloria deviation was practically useless.
Sometimes, Yang Jian might even show higher results than Wu Zhihao himself.
For them, it wasn't reliable data.
But for Fang Ping, it was more than enough.
What he needed most was to see how his mysterious "1.1 Qi and Blood" value translated in real terms. A rough range was fine.
Hearing this, Fang Ping grinned:
"Then I'll trouble you tonight! I don't even know how to thank you. No worries—when I get into Martial Arts, I'll treat you to a feast!"
"Hahaha…"
Zhang Hao burst out laughing. "Fang Ping, I'm just afraid Wu Zhihao won't live to see that dinner."
"Shut it." Fang Ping said with absolute confidence, "I will pass. No doubt about it."
"Hahaha…"
The others laughed again—not mocking, but amused by his confidence. Even among them, not even Wu Zhihao dared say he was certain of passing.
After the laughter, Zhang Hao added:
"Zhihao, when Fang Ping checks tonight, tell us the result tomorrow. Even if it's not precise, testing a few times should give us an idea."
They were curious about Fang Ping's Qi and Blood value—nothing more than the way classmates were always curious about each other's test scores.
(End of Chapter)