Chapter 52: A High-Difficulty Performance

This question posed no challenge for the physical education teacher. He glanced at the students and asked, "Who can do a pullover?"

To everyone's surprise, several boys raised their hands, claiming they could. Even the tall guy wanted to show off, especially in front of the class monitor. Everyone knew he had once declared that Mimi Ni was his wife, which had infuriated her so much that she beat him mercilessly.

At a single glance, I understood the situation. Ugly-Face was still harboring delusional thoughts about the class monitor, completely oblivious to his own frog-like countenance—he was as hideous as they come. Just as Mimi Ni had put it: "A toad lusting after a swan's flesh, what sheer pipe dreams!"

The PE teacher didn't idle either. Without bothering with roll call, he simply picked whoever caught his eye and called the utterly clueless tall guy over.

Ugly-Face stood one meter seventy-nine, towering fourteen centimeters taller than the PE teacher. Standing right in front of him, his head was a good half-length higher, allowing him to easily grasp the highest horizontal bar without even needing to jump.

Male and female students crowded around to watch the tall guy's performance.

Fearing an accident, the PE teacher even gave a personal demonstration, explaining the key techniques of gripping the bar.

Yet the tall guy was an absolute blockhead; all his loud boasting was completely useless! Being heavy and lacking strength in his arms, he swung back and forth, trying to push himself up with the force of his legs. Failing to stabilize himself in mid-air, he simply gave a clumsy hop, went head-first with his feet planted on the bar, and attempted to pull his body upward. Unable to control his momentum, he flipped backward, lost his grip, and plummeted from the bar, landing head-first with his mouth full of sand, unable to get up for the longest time.

The PE teacher was terrified! He rushed over to help him up.

The tall guy clutched his head with both hands, grimaced, and let out mournful howls, in absolute agony.

The students gathered around. The most anxious of all was the PE teacher, who asked with concern, "Are you hurt?"

The students were also eager to know, but the damned Ugly-Face simply refused to answer, holding his head and wailing loudly.

Knowing he would have to bear the responsibility, the PE teacher grew extremely worried and asked, "Shall I take you to the hospital?"

Ugly-Face didn't reply. Weighing his own condition and various other factors, he hesitated and couldn't bring himself to agree.

Annoyed by his pathetic display, I walked over, grabbed his head, gave it a couple of twists, tapped him on the neck, and said, "All better!"

Ugly-Face let out a shrill howl, leaped into the air while clutching his head, and then squatted on the ground, keeping his mouth shut.

The students stared in astonishment, watching my savage movements and suspecting it was an act of retaliation.

Finally finding a way to shirk responsibility, the PE teacher pulled a long, horse-like face and asked with sour sarcasm, "Why did you do that? Isn't this intentional sabotage? If anything goes wrong, you take full responsibility!"

Jiang Meili wasn't going to let that stand. She stepped forward to speak up: "The responsibility is yours! You didn't teach, you didn't supervise, yet you made them do this sort of thing. When an accident happens, it's your problem!"

Her words hit the nail on the head, leaving the PE teacher dumbfounded with anger! His black mustache practically stood on end as he glared with wide eyes and muttered, "How is that any way to talk to a teacher? It's his own fault for not gripping the bar properly. I told him to pull over, not to do a handstand!"

Back and forth they went; every student had their own opinion. Most of them concluded that the fault lay entirely with Ugly-Face, and if he died, it was good riddance!

The PE teacher remained uneasy. After all, the incident happened during class, and school regulations dictated that penalties were certain. Blame as he might, he ultimately blamed Xin Zhengtai for adding fuel to the fire and blowing the matter out of proportion.

I wasn't afraid at all. I had acted out of pure kindness; why did nobody understand? Why was it so hard to do a good deed? If I had truly wanted to harm Ugly-Face, I would have beaten him to death long ago! No matter what, I felt aggrieved in my heart.

The class bell rang, and the students rushed from the sports field into the classroom like a swarm of bees, instantly filling the air with a cacophony of noise.

Just as the PE teacher was about to lead the tall guy away, the latter unexpectedly stood up on his own, shook his head, and announced, "It doesn't hurt anymore!" He even shouted in amazement, "Zhengtai, those two twists you gave really worked. I'm cured!"

The most pleasantly surprised was the PE teacher, who had just been plagued by all sorts of worries. He hadn't expected a single sentence from Ugly-Face to resolve the issue completely.

Jiang Meili wore an envious expression and chimed in with a coquettish voice, "Zhengtai, how did you pull that off?"

Seizing the opportunity to show off, I shifted my gaze to the PE teacher's face and said, "Back when my master taught me martial arts, he didn't just teach me combat; he also taught many methods for treating sprains. Ordinary bone and tendon injuries usually..." This grand and eloquent speech completely overshadowed the PE teacher.

Feeling thoroughly disgruntled, he shouted loudly, "Alright! Class is over! Go play!"

Many students came over to try the horizontal bar—some from senior high, others from the first year of junior high—and all of them were better than the tall guy. With a gentle heave, they were right up, and some could even spin around it several times.

The PE teacher snatched the notebook and pen from my hands and walked away, his retreating figure looking thoroughly repulsive.

The students gathered around those performing on the horizontal bar. The tall guy didn't want to leave either, and indeed he looked as though he wasn't in any pain at all.

In truth, I knew better than anyone that it wasn't as simple as people imagined; certain restorative conditions had to be met for it to heal.

Once again, Jiang Meili hatched a mischievous idea, deliberately raising her voice to call out, "Classmates, shouldn't we ask Zhengtai to show us a trick on the horizontal bar?"

"Clap, clap, clap," she started applauding first, followed by a few students echoing her sentiments. The students currently practicing on the bar also voluntarily stepped aside.

Since Jiang Meili was helping me show off everywhere, I had no choice but to take the stage.

Having just heard me boast about having a master and studying martial arts, the students insisted I give a demonstration and shouted loudly, "Zhengtai, give us a show, won't you?"

I naturally loved showing off, especially since I couldn't bear to disappoint Jiang Meili. I walked to the middle of the horizontal bar, turned to face the surrounding crowd of students, and shouted, "Today, I'm going to put on a spectacular show for everyone. Do you want to see it?"

The students from my class were the first to applaud, and spurred on by Jiang Meili, they cheered at the top of their lungs, "Yeah..."

Everyone could see that I was very tall; the horizontal bar was two and a half meters high, and I could easily exceed it by a good margin just by reaching up.

What they wanted to see was how I would get up onto the bar.

I gripped the bar with my right hand, sprang up with both feet, and landed steadily right on top of the bar, causing it to sway back and forth under my weight. I noticed the PE teacher watching from the teaching building's corridor.

Jiang Meili shouted at the top of her lungs, "Great, simply great!" Extremely excited, she clapped her hands fiercely, and the students joined in, attracting a crowd of onlookers from other classes.

I threw my body forward without gripping the bar, going head-first with a heavy "thud," executing a fierce handstand that gouged a pit in the sand. My golden hair scattered across the ground, and the hem of my shirt naturally fell forward, exposing my body.

Jiang Meili's eyes widened in shock, practically popping out of her head. The students held their breath in suspense—had I been injured after all? How could I do something like that?

Just as everyone was filled with doubt, I pressed my hands against the ground, sprang up with explosive force, jerked my head upward, grabbed the bar, hoisted myself up, and flipped over.

This high-difficulty maneuver won applause from all the surrounding students, who excitedly cried out, "Do it again!"

"Don't rush, I'm not done yet!" I spun around the horizontal bar more than eighty times in a row, released my hands, flew into the air, did five consecutive backflips, and landed firmly on the ground without feeling the least bit dizzy.

Every single student broke into applause. In the distance, I caught sight of the top student I had beaten earlier, who was so frightened that he quietly hid himself.

The class bell rang, and the students scurried back into the classroom in a panic.

In front of so many people, Jiang Meili dragged me by my right arm all the way to the second floor. Most of the students were already sitting at their desks, and Jiang Meili went in and did the same.

Only I was covered in sand, shaking it off as I walked and combing through my scattered hair with my fingers.

The teacher walked in, looked right at me, and called out, "Xin Zhengtai, please sit down!"

The materialistic boy was reluctant to meet my eyes and looked terrified, shrinking away and edging toward the outside.

Aside from having beaten him up earlier, I still wanted to give him a piece of my mind. Once seated at my desk, regardless of whether the teacher was present or not, I continued my intimidation: "You are not allowed to cross the dividing line! Otherwise, you know what happens!"

The materialistic boy raised his hand high, shaking it vigorously. Understanding his intent, the teacher stood before the lectern and announced, "Alright! Put your hand down and no talking!"

This period was chemistry. I didn't pay attention to what was being taught, nor did I even know the teacher's name.

School was out. I glanced at the cell phone hanging from my neck; it was covered in grit. After wiping it clean, the display showed 5:30 PM. My stomach wasn't rumbling anymore; it was as if I had forgotten what hunger felt like. Though I hadn't eaten lunch, I didn't feel faint or uneasy.

Jiang Meili took the initiative to link her arm through mine, triumphantly taking large strides. Everyone understood the implication—she was proud of me.

Many students whispered quietly, keeping their voices just low enough that we couldn't hear, though we knew full well they were talking trash behind our backs.