Next morning—First-Year Classroom
Sunlight streamed through bright windows, Class Zero was already seated, quiet and focused.
"Hey—what's today's lesson?" Xie Xie asked, excitement bubbling.
"You're… off today," Tang Wulin studied him, sensing something amiss.
Today's Xie Xie felt… 90% wrong.
Fang Yang spoke calmly: "Xie Xie—you and Zheng Yiran hit it off yesterday? Already sealed the deal?"
"Huh?"
The class snapped to attention.
Tang Wulin, Zhang Yangzi, Wang Jinxi—eyes locked onto Xie Xie.
Zhang Yangzi and Wang Jinxi exchanged knowing smirks, bowing in unison:
"Impressive, Xie Xie! Congratulations!"
They remembered—Xie Xie's scheming had helped them find love. Now their "matchmaker" was finally getting his own!
"Ah—keep it low-key!" Xie Xie preened, hair flipped dramatically.
"Well, when this young master takes the field—success is guaranteed!"
He boasted on, oblivious—a slender figure silently materialized behind him.
Fang Yang saw her instantly, winking frantically at Xie Xie.
But Xie Xie missed it entirely, concerned: "Fang Yang—your eyes hurt? Why keep blinking?"
Silence.
Fang Yang, Tang Wulin, Zhang Yangzi, Wang Jinxi—stared with pity.
"Hopeless," Gu Yue muttered, exasperated.
"Gu Yue, I—!" Xie Xie started.
Xu Xiaoyan couldn't bear it: "Xie Xie—stop talking. Look behind you."
Tang Wulin's trio nodded gravely—sympathy in their eyes.
Xie Xie froze, smile crumbling.
Slowly, dreadfully, he turned.
Zheng Yiran stood there, jade eyes glinting with amusement.
How long had she heard?
"Oh? Xie Xie—so you love bragging?" she purred, voice calm—yet ice-cold.
"Yiran—I'm sorry!" Xie Xie groveled instantly, repentance lightning-fast.
"Hmph." Zheng Yiran snorted, gaze piercing—then walked to her seat.
---
The door opened.
Shen Yi and Wu Zhangkong entered.
Silence fell.
"Before we start class—a notice," Shen Yi announced.
"Team formation."
"Form teams of 4–6. Elect a captain. Submit your lists to the Monitor or Deputies."
"Battle Armor crafting requires teamwork. All future training and exams will be team-based. Choose wisely."
"If you fail to form a team? Random assignment awaits."
"Understood, Senior Teacher Shen!" the class chorused.
"Now—Wu Zhangkong will teach," Shen Yi stepped aside.
Wu Zhangkong's icy gaze swept the room:
"Shrek's methods differ from your old academies."
"For martial soul cultivation—consult me or Shen Yi after class."
"Today—Mecha Making Fundamentals."
"Mecha Making?!"
Confusion rippled through the class.
They came to forge Battle Armor—not mechas!
Tang Wulin raised his hand: "Teacher Wu—why mechas if we're to become Battle Armor Masters?"
Wu Zhangkong nodded: "Excellent question."
"Battle Armor mastery begins with foundations—and mechas are that foundation!"
"Forging, Mecha Maker, Design, Mechanics—these secondary professions forge the bedrock of Battle Armor artistry."
"High-tier mechas rival low-tier Battle Armor. Their might hinges on forging quality, design brilliance, construction precision, and maintenance skill."
He launched into lecture, weaving all four disciplines into one cohesive tapestry.
By noon, students' understanding of mechas had deepened exponentially.
As the lesson ended, Wu Zhangkong delivered the final blow:
"Your core assignment: Craft a complete mech from raw materials. If you fail, you WILL be expelled."
Panic surged—especially among those weak in secondary professions.
They'd need to work twice as hard.
"Dismissed. The seven officers stay," Wu Zhangkong ordered.
As classmates filed out, Fang Yang's group bowed respectfully:
"Teacher Wu, Teacher Shen."
Wu Zhangkong and Shen Yi acknowledged them with nods.
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