boyutpedia Chapter 9 Target Top Scholar
Chapter 9 Target Top Scholar
"Student ID 0923, Jiangcheng No.1 Middle School, Lin Fan."
The examiner's voice rang out on the playground, as flat as if he were reciting an insignificant code name.
Lin Fan stepped out of the group.
The No. 7 force gauge was right in front of me. Its silver-gray metal casing gleamed coldly in the sunlight, and the force plate was covered with the fist marks left by the previous examinee.
Behind me, a murmur of discussion surged up like a tide.
"It's that good-for-nothing's turn."
"Here comes the 300-pound guy. I want to see what tricks he can pull off."
"Tsk, Zhao Xiaoyue even came over to cheer him on just now. I wonder what she'll think when the numbers come out."
"What else can you think? It's embarrassing."
Zhang Hu stood at the edge of the playground, arms crossed, a smile he had been preparing for a long time on his lips.
850? 997?
What is his relationship with Lin Fan?
That kid's maximum weight is 300 jin (150 catties), 350 jin (125 kg) at most, no more than that.
He had been waiting for this moment all morning.
From the uncomfortable look he received at the school gate, to Zhao Xiaoyue coming over to cheer him on, and then to the unwavering calm on Lin Fan's face while he was queuing,
All of these things that annoyed him would get a satisfactory answer in the next few seconds.
300 pounds.
Let everyone see what kind of person you really are.
Zhang Hu's smile deepened.
Lin Fan did not turn around.
He felt all the whispers, the laughter, and the stares waiting to see him make a fool of himself; they felt like needles pricking his back.
But he ignored it.
He stood in front of the force gauge and closed his eyes.
Take a deep breath.
The surrounding noise gradually faded away. He could hear his own heartbeat, steady and strong, pounding in his chest.
Qi and blood flow slowly through the meridians, like a tamed river, quietly waiting for the moment the floodgates are opened.
A month ago, when he stood in front of this force measuring instrument, his heart was pounding, his breathing was labored, and his mind was filled with fragmented thoughts.
He was scared at that time.
I'm afraid of that number popping up, afraid of the stares of those around me, afraid of being proven to be a complete failure.
But it's different now.
He was no longer afraid.
Because he knows who he is.
Lin Fan opened his eyes.
The first punch.
He lowered his waist and hips, clenched his right fist, and threw a very ordinary punch without any fancy starting stance.
He didn't even use the combined power of the Returning Mountain Fist or the power generation techniques of the Dragon Form Fist in this punch.
It is pure, the most basic power.
He wanted to see just how strong his basic strength had become over the past month, setting aside all the enhancements from his boxing techniques.
The fist pierced the air.
boom!
The load-bearing plate vibrates.
The numbers on the display screen started to jump.
The examiner next to me was a middle-aged man in his forties with a square face, thick eyebrows, and an examination committee badge pinned to his chest.
He had overheard the discussions among the other examinees and knew that the student in front of him seemed to have a weak martial spirit and was at the bottom of the martial arts rankings.
Around 300 pounds, I guess.
He had already made a prediction in his mind.
300 jin (150 catties) is below the limit, but according to regulations, it still needs to be tested.
The examiner stood expressionless beside the force measuring instrument, holding a recording board, waiting for the expected number to appear.
Then he caught a glimpse of the display screen out of the corner of his eye.
500.
The examiner blinked.
Huh? 500?
It's still rising.
600.
650.
700.
The examiner's eyebrows twitched.
His gaze lifted from the whiteboard and landed on the screen, his expression shifting from casual to focused.
800.
It's still rising.
840.
850.
Stopped.
850 pounds.
The examiner was taken aback.
850?
Wasn't it said this kid only weighed 300 jin? There's almost a three-fold difference between 300 jin and 850 jin, and he's considered trash?
He took another look at the student standing in front of the force gauge.
He wasn't particularly strong; in fact, he was rather thin compared to his peers.
His arms lacked the definition that comes from years of hard training. He stood there, his breathing steady, showing no signs of exhaustion.
He doesn't look like someone who can hit 850 pounds.
But the numbers are there for all to see.
The examiner looked down and wrote "850" on the record board, then looked up at Lin Fan with a more serious expression in his eyes.
850 jin is not top-tier; it would place it in the upper-middle range within the city.
But this score is enough to get into a martial arts university, and it might even be enough to qualify for some mid-tier martial arts universities.
It's not considered waste.
You could even say it's pretty good.
The playground was quiet for about two seconds.
Then it exploded.
"850? He hit 850?"
"Damn it! Who said he's trash? Step forward! You call 850 trash?"
"Who told me he only weighs 300 pounds? Come out and take your punishment!"
"His grades are higher than mine... If he's a loser, then what am I? Worse than a loser?"
Those examinees who were just laughing at Lin Fan now had their mouths agape and their eyes practically popping out of their sockets.
Some people rubbed their eyes, wondering if they had seen it wrong; some turned to ask their companions to confirm if the number was real; and others silently shut their mouths, their faces turning slightly red.
The students from No. 1 Middle School were even more bewildered.
"Are you kidding me?"
"Lin Fan? 850 jin? Wasn't he only 300 jin a month ago?"
"Gained 550 pounds in a month? What kind of crazy speed is that?"
Zhang Hu's eyes widened in disbelief, and his arms, which had been wrapped around his body, had somehow come undone and were now hanging limply at his sides.
850.
That kid scored 850.
他引以为傲的997斤，当然比850高。997减850，他赢了147斤。
But he couldn't laugh at all.
Because a month ago, his weight was 780 jin (approximately 390 catties).
In one month, he gained weight from 780 jin to 997 jin, a gain of 217 jin.
Lin Fan gained weight from 300 jin to 850 jin, an increase of 550 jin.
Five hundred and fifty catties.
That's more than twice his.
How is that possible?
Zhang Hu's mind went blank, and he felt as if he had been hit on the back with a club.
"Tiger..." a classmate next to him cautiously asked, "Is he on drugs?"
Taking drugs.
Yes, drugs.
Zhang Hu's eyes refocused, the shock on his face gradually faded, replaced by a sense of realization and subsequent disdain.
Some precious potions can indeed significantly boost strength in a short period of time.
For example, the Body Tempering Pill can increase strength by two to three hundred pounds with just one pill, but it also has significant side effects, easily damaging one's foundation and making it difficult to break through to the Qi Condensation Realm later.
For example, dragon's blood potion is even more potent, but its price is also outrageous, costing millions per vial.
"They're definitely on drugs," Zhang Hu said decisively, his voice several decibels louder than before. "Gaining 550 pounds in a month, how could they not be on drugs? With their family's financial situation, they'd probably be bankrupt by the time they could afford those kinds of drugs."
The students around him nodded in agreement.
"Yes, he must have been on drugs."
"They're really going all out to get into a military academy."
"It's a pity. The power he gained by relying on drugs is not solid. He'll be at the bottom even if he gets into a martial arts university."
This explanation made perfect sense, and Zhang Hu felt a little better.
The 850-pound weight gain was from taking drugs, not from real ability.
His 997-pound physique is the result of hard work and solid foundation; he has a long road ahead of him.
Thinking of this, Zhang Hu crossed his arms again and raised his chin back.
"Just watch, he definitely won't be able to hit that many punches the second time. The boost from the potion is unstable; the first punch is the peak, and it will only get lower and lower afterward."
Before he could finish speaking, Lin Fan, who was in front of the No. 7 force gauge, made a new move.
The students who were waiting to see their results for the second time immediately became excited again.
"Look, look! He's about to throw another punch!"
"I scored 850 the first time, I wonder how much I can score the second time."
"Who knows? What if it's just luck the first time?"
"Look at his starting stance... it seems to have changed?"
Lin Fan has indeed changed.
His starting stance this time was completely different from his first punch.
He took a half step back with his right foot, lowered his center of gravity, and brought his fists to his waist, one in front of the other. His aura became deep and sharp, like a sword slowly being drawn from its sheath.
Over the past month, he has cultivated the Returning Mountain Fist to the third level of perfection.
The third level of the Returning Mountain Fist is characterized by a punch that resembles a great wave returning to a mountain, containing nine layers of superimposed power in a single punch.
His first punch delivered 850 jin (approximately 425 catties), which was his base strength, without any enhancement from his boxing techniques.
Now, he wants to see how much his fist power can be amplified when he fully unleashes the Returning Mountain Fist at its perfect state.
The nine layers of energy stacked up one after another in the meridians, one wave pushing the other.
He no longer needs to consciously control the intervals and rhythms of each layer of force; the perfected Returning Mountain Fist, with its nine layers overlapping, has become an instinct of his body.
The examiner's gaze was fixed firmly on Lin Fan.
His posture changed from casual to ramrod straight, and the hand that had been hanging by his side had somehow risen up and gripped the edge of the clipboard.
He recognized the starting stance.
Returning Mountain Fist.
Moreover, it is the most standard starting stance and the most imposing and focused form of the Returning Mountain Fist.
He served as an examiner in Examination Room No. 9 for two terms and had seen at least a thousand candidates. There were quite a few who could perform the starting stance of the Returning Mountain Fist, but very few who could concentrate their energy to this extent.
This student... is not simple.
Then Lin Fan threw a punch.
The sound of the fist tearing through the air was several times sharper than the first punch.
boom!
The load-bearing plate vibrated violently, and the entire force measuring instrument shook.
This commotion was bigger than any other candidate's, and several examiners on the playground turned to look at it at the same time.
The numbers on the display screen started to jump.
1000.
The examiner's eye twitched.
1100.
1200.
1500.
The examiner's eye twitched a second time.
Then he watched helplessly as the number continued to rise.
1600.
1700.
No one spoke anymore. All the examinees around the No. 7 force gauge were like ducks with their necks choked, craning their necks and staring intently at the still-changing number.
1800.
Zhang Hu's face had turned pale.
1900.
The chief examiner, Zhou Zhengyang, walked up to the No. 7 force measuring instrument at some point, put his hands behind his back, and stared at the display screen with a blank expression. But if you looked closely, you would see that the hand behind his back was clenched into a fist.
2000.
The display screen stopped at 2000.
The entire playground fell silent.