Chapter 62: The Foundation Is Key, The Principal’s New Strategy (Part One)

“If you’ve got what it takes, then beat me with your grades! Come on! I dare you!” Old Jia bellowed, slapping the table so hard it echoed through the room. True to his nickname, ‘High-Voltage Jia’ was living up to his reputation—the moment his voltage spiked, his face twisted into a grimace, all his features contorted with rage, nothing remotely scholarly about him.

Shi Tiexin was left speechless, dodging a bit to avoid the flying flecks of spit. He wanted to turn and leave on the spot, but after all, Old Jia was here to encourage him to study, not to pick a fight. It would be rude to just walk away.

If it were someone else, they might have dumped him in the worst class and washed their hands of it, wishing the troublemakers would stay as far away as possible. Old Jia’s willingness to come over and scold him actually came from a good place.

But good intentions aside, was he supposed to swallow his pride? Just stand there and get chewed out?

Dream on!

So Shi Tiexin spent a full two minutes composing a thousand-word retort in his head, ready to unleash a barrage and put Old Jia in his place.

But when he opened his mouth, all that came out was, “I’m studying.”

That was it.

Yes, that was all!

He nearly wept with frustration.

But Old Jia actually paused, looking at Shi Tiexin suspiciously. “You’re studying?”

The kid was never one for words, but that just made every sentence he uttered carry extra weight. It was easy to assume, given Shi Tiexin’s appearance and presence, that every word from his mouth would hit like a nail, each one heavy with meaning.

So Old Jia half-believed him, pressing further, “I checked with your teacher Chu—you don’t pay attention in class, you don’t do homework. What exactly are you studying?”

What exactly am I studying? I’m cultivating the first level of the Basic Heart Technique, but how could I tell you that?

Shi Tiexin’s mind raced with a thousand excuses, but when he finally spoke, it was just two words: “The basics.”

Even as the words left his lips, Shi Tiexin felt like he was about to break down. What happened to my sharp tongue? Every main character can banter and talk back—why can’t I even get my words straight? Oh, heavens!

I can’t take it anymore, I really can’t breathe in here—I have to get out! I need to escape and seek solace in Wang Xingshun’s calligraphy manual!

So, in Old Jia’s eyes, Shi Tiexin left behind those weighty words—“the basics”—then rose and strode out, calm and unhurried, exuding an unshakable sense of purpose. It was as if grinding his foundation was a matter of utmost urgency, and he wasn’t about to waste a single second.

Old Jia was dumbfounded, dazed by the boy’s aura. By the time he snapped out of it, Shi Tiexin was already gone. Old Jia opened his mouth as if to speak, but in the end, said nothing. He just scratched his thinning hair and muttered to himself, “The basics?”

That night during self-study, Old Jia kept popping in through the back door for surprise inspections, using his signature “homeroom teacher’s secret peek.” He knew all about the value of a surprise attack, and tonight he nearly wore his horse out going back and forth. After a whole night of observing, Old Jia found that Shi Tiexin truly wasn’t fooling around—no joking, no mingling with the troublemakers.

He really was busy with something.

But what was it? It didn’t look like he was working on practice papers or reading textbooks. And what was this “basics” he talked about?

Old Jia was full of doubt, turning the matter over and over in his mind to no avail. The bell rang, signaling the end of evening study. For students in the worst class, those who stayed this late were already the “good ones.” But Shi Tiexin, for once, bolted the moment the bell rang, racing for the study room like the vanguard in a cafeteria stampede. Only after the classroom was nearly empty did Old Jia sneak in through the back door.

Ignoring the wide-eyed Zhao Qingmiao standing nearby, Old Jia went straight to Shi Tiexin’s desk. Unconcerned with privacy, he dug right in.

“Wang Xingshun’s Calligraphy Manual?” Old Jia flipped through a practice book in surprise. “What the heck is this?” Did this have anything to do with studying? With exams or grades?

He rummaged some more and pulled out something new: “Little Genius Training—Basic Math Handbook?” This one seemed at least marginally relevant, but only for elementary school.

“What is all this nonsense!” Old Jia’s temper flared, feeling thoroughly deceived. “This is what he meant by ‘the basics’? What basics, you brat! Nonsense! Useless stuff, can’t even make it to the table! Damn it, I never should’ve signed off on him—what a waste of national resources!”

Old Jia left, bitterly disappointed.

Meanwhile, Shi Tiexin was also feeling let down. Holding a booklet on adolescent physiology, he stared at it in disbelief. Where was the legendary secret manual? Where were the illustrations? Sure, the words were there, but where were the pictures? Wait, maybe the biology book had something.

He searched—reproduction, reproduction, reproduction… Ah, there it was, diagrams on reproduction! He looked—hmm… The pollen from the stamen is transferred by insects to the pistil, completing fertilization…

This wasn’t the kind of reproduction he wanted to see!

Clearly, he needed to change his search terms. Women, women, women… There! A diagram about women! He looked—hmm… Who the hell was this muscle-bound, bodybuilder-posing, sinisterly grinning “woman” in the picture?

It’s obviously a woman—so why does she look so macho?!

Damn you, biology book! Give me back my youth, my innocence, my sex education, my beautiful fantasies about women!

[Secret manual fully mastered!]

No, I can’t give up—there must be something hidden here. I need to dig deeper, uncover some secret treasure…

[Basic Biology Level One cultivation progress raised to “competent.”]

“Awesome!”

“Not a single word missed!”

“Your dedication to research is unparalleled.”

“Starved for knowledge!”

The calligraphy tablet’s messages kept popping up, and for some reason, they sounded almost sentient. Shi Tiexin couldn’t shake the feeling he was being mocked by the tablet, and his mood grew more complicated. Only the rapidly increasing progress bar offered him any comfort.

The night passed without further incident.

The next morning, Shi Tiexin got up early and returned to his previous spot for morning reading, practicing initials, finals, and whole-syllable pronunciations. His plan was set: every morning would be devoted to rhetoric, afternoons and evening study sessions reserved for math, and late self-study time assigned to other subjects.

Ever since he’d seen that picture, his progress had been faster than expected.

It did seem a little unfair to math, but what could he do? For Shi Tiexin, math was his “main wife”—the other subjects would just have to wait their turn. Besides, basic math was the core of the natural sciences, the very foundation of the fundamental heart technique. Legend had it that mastering this discipline could fundamentally enhance one’s enlightenment.

Perfection in Basic Math Level One was within reach. First, he’d achieve perfect math—then he’d move on!