Chapter 11: The Eve of the Assessment

Chapter 11: The Eve of the Assessment

The all-encompassing internet quickly provided Qin Zhe with useful information, and the webpage immediately displayed an encyclopedia entry.

Skimming through the entry at a glance, Qin Zhe's expression grew increasingly grim the further he read.

The True Self Heart Classic was indeed powerful; the encyclopedia mentioned many accounts of martial artists practicing it to such an advanced degree that they could directly contend with cultivators of both the Immortal and Demon paths.

Yet, the encyclopedia detailed more about the drawbacks brought on by awakening the “True Self” through the True Self Heart Classic.

In essence, awakening the “True Self” equated to stirring the darkest corners of one’s heart, which could result in various unpredictable outcomes.

Most common among these was behavior akin to Qin Zhe’s—acting shamelessly and brazenly in ways people normally dared not, and which brought great shame.

According to the encyclopedia’s summary, the root cause for the emergence of the True Self Heart Classic lay in the discrimination martial artists faced from the Immortal and Demon sects.

If not for the combat power it granted, no martial artist in the world would willingly practice the True Self Heart Classic.

Qin Zhe did not find mention of the senior fellow student Yu Shuangshuang had spoken of, but he did come across many typical examples.

Most who practiced the True Self Heart Classic were labeled with tags such as “pervert” and “lecher,” and some were even sent to detention centers.

The encyclopedia’s final commentary remarked that loss of self-control was no excuse for brazen criminal acts.

Notably, there was no record of anyone losing reason after releasing their “True Self” and causing catastrophic mistakes; mostly, they were just disgraceful, lewd antics.

Yet even so, how many people could afford to lose their dignity like this?

Silently closing the browser, Qin Zhe forced the tens of thousands of wild thoughts racing through his mind to settle, resolutely deciding to seal away the “Burning Blood True Self Technique.”

As he walked back to the dormitory, Qin Zhe had just pushed the door open with a sullen face when Gu Ming jumped out from inside.

“Old Qin! Why are you only just back? Big trouble’s happened!”

“What now?” Qin Zhe replied wearily, dragging his exhausted body inside.

Finally mastered a mystical skill, only to find it riddled with serious problems!

One moment heaven, the next moment hell—it was like bungee jumping; he really had no mood to argue with Gu Ming now.

“Look at the college forum—there are several posts about you claiming you’re bullying Zhou Wentong!” Gu Ming said furiously, thrusting his phone forward.

Qin Zhe raised an eyelid and immediately lost interest.

He knew exactly who was behind this.

Liu Botao and Zhou Wu really had too much time on their hands...

One was the head of the student affairs office, the other a college board member—when their schemes failed, they even resorted to manipulating public opinion. Could it be any more ridiculous?

Ignoring Gu Ming’s indignant expression, Qin Zhe lazily climbed onto his bed.

“Let them say whatever they want. There’s no shortage of people twisting facts online. At the end of the day, those who jump on the bandwagon to defame are just brainless.”

“That’s true, but we can’t just swallow it silently, can we?” Gu Ming was reluctant to let it go, furiously tapping away on his phone.

Without looking, Qin Zhe knew he was leaving scathing comments on the forum posts.

He didn’t care.

First, he was indifferent to that kind of reputation. Second, he had no interest in getting himself tangled up with a student affairs director and a college board member in a battle of public opinion.

Liu Botao and Zhou Wu’s conduct was indeed shameful, but their backing was formidable. Arguing would only drag him down.

Better to watch how they play their hand.

After all, their true target wasn’t him personally. Everything on the surface was just a prelude to stir things up; their real intentions had yet to be revealed.

If the sky fell, there were ministers and even the student council standing guard. There was no way a small player like him needed to lose sleep over it.

...

Early the next morning, Qin Zhe got out of bed bright and early and dragged the lethargic Gu Ming from the dorm.

By all accounts, the Disciplinary Department was the busiest within the entire student council—bar none.

With the midterm assessment approaching, the college was about to open a secret realm.

As members of the Disciplinary Department, Qin Zhe and Gu Ming not only had to participate in the assessment but also had to arrive early to maintain order.

Just a few steps from the dorm, the two ran into a familiar figure.

Seeing this person appear, Gu Ming, who had been embroiled in heated forum debates until midnight, immediately perked up and shouted scornfully.

“Zhou Wentong! You actually still have the nerve to show up!”

Qin Zhe silently glanced at Gu Ming but said nothing, his curiosity piqued as he looked at Zhou Wentong.

Wasn’t Zhou Wentong badly injured and lying in the hospital?

How was he suddenly here, seemingly unharmed? Could it be that his injuries weren’t severe after all?

Zhou Wentong ignored Gu Ming’s outburst and calmly approached, saying coldly:

“What my father did has nothing to do with me.”

“Understood.” Qin Zhe nodded, treating it as a mere formality.

From the start, Qin Zhe never believed that Zhou Wu’s approach to the student affairs office had a direct connection to Zhou Wentong.

Although he had little contact with Zhou Wentong, Qin Zhe knew well that the man before him was proud and arrogant, not the type to stoop to such low tactics.

Judging by Zhou Wentong’s slightly troubled expression, it seemed his relationship with Zhou Wu was strained.

Gu Ming, standing nearby, was about to retort but fell silent when Zhou Wentong mentioned his father.

Zhou Wentong’s father was a college board member—someone Gu Ming could not afford to offend!

“Are you available to step aside and talk?” Zhou Wentong asked, his tone noticeably less haughty.

Clearly, Zhou Wentong wanted to speak privately. Gu Ming was displeased and rolled his eyes, starting to protest again.

“No time! Qin Zhe and I have to go on duty now. If we’re late, the minister will find out—”

Before he finished, Zhou Wentong looked at him and said:

“I’m not here to cause trouble or argue.”

“You...” Gu Ming was momentarily speechless. Despite his blunt nature, even he noticed Zhou Wentong’s changed attitude and was unsure how to respond.

It’s hard to pick a fight with someone who’s lowered their arrogant posture like this.

“Gu, you go help cover the square for me. I’ll talk to Zhou Wentong for a bit and be right back,” Qin Zhe said, signaling Zhou Wentong with his eyes.

Zhou Wentong understood and turned to lead the way toward a small garden not far from the dorm.

Gu Ming, seeing them leave him behind, wanted to follow but felt it inappropriate and decided to head to the square instead.

...

In the small garden, Qin Zhe followed Zhou Wentong only a short distance before they stopped in a secluded spot.

“About what happened on the forum, I can only apologize. What my father did is beyond my control,” Zhou Wentong began, then hesitated before continuing.

“The real reason I came to find you privately this time is because of our bet...”

“No need to mention the bet again. It’s just some minor scuffle, no need to take it so seriously,” Qin Zhe waved his hand to stop him.

“As for your father, you should know that his target isn’t me. It’s not a big problem.”

(End of Chapter)