Ji Feng glared at the nurse's retreating back. "Disgusting vulture."
Xiao Sumei studied her son—his frame now half a head taller than hers, though his face still carried traces of youth—and smiled. "Feng'er, you've grown up."
During the confrontation, she'd feared he might lash out violently. Instead, he'd outmaneuvered the nurse with cold precision. A far deadlier strike than any punch.
"I meant what I said, Mom." Ji Feng's voice was steel. "No one will ever look down on you again."
"I believe you." She patted his shoulder, then tensed as he asked:
"Was I really unconscious for three days?"
"Are you feeling any aftereffects? Dizziness? Pain?" Her calloused hands fluttered over him like nervous birds.
Warmth flooded Ji Feng's chest—followed by a stab of guilt. At just forty, his mother's face was already etched with hardship. How much has she suffered to raise me?
"I'm fine. Watch!" He threw a playful punch, then froze. His fist cut through the air with unnatural force. Every muscle thrummed with energy he'd never possessed before.
Must be from resting these days, he rationalized, ignoring the strangeness.
——
The hallway reeked of antiseptic and spite. The plump nurse leaned against the wall, smirking as they passed.
"Tch. Beggars shouldn't play sick."
Ji Feng's knuckles whitened. Xiao Sumei pressed a warning hand to his back. "Let it go."
Outside, he gulped fresh air, cleansing his lungs of hospital sterility. His mother wheeled over their family's sole possession—a rusted tricycle.
''Mom…" Shame thickened his voice. "You missed three days of market work because of me."
"Silly child." She flicked his forehead affectionately. "What's money compared to you?"
He rubbed the spot, grinning, until a thought struck him. "I should head straight to school. Three days of classes to make up."
Xiao Sumei fretted. "Your principal approved the leave! Rest first—"
"Senior year won't wait." He squared his shoulders. "I'll make you proud."
As he walked away, her smile crumpled. "University tuition…" She clenched her fists. "I'll sell the wok if I must."
——
Mangshi No.2 High's gates loomed. Three days ago, Hu Xuehui had eviscerated him here. Now, the memory barely stung.
"It's over." Ji Feng exhaled. "You're not fighting for yourself anymore. You're fighting for her."
Class 6 was mid-lecture when he arrived. The physics teacher—a bespectacled man in his fifties—nodded him inside without comment.
Forty pairs of eyes tracked his movement: mocking smirks, pitying glances, outright sneers. Ji Feng ignored them all. His former seat beside Hu Xuehui now housed his only friend—Zhang Lei.
The human paradox.
With his bleached hair and perpetually unbuttoned uniform, Zhang Lei looked like a delinquent. Yet he ranked top-ten in grade exams without cracking a textbook. Teachers called him "Sixth Class's hidden blade"—though never to his face.
"You alive, Crazy Ji?" Zhang Lei whispered as Ji Feng sat.
"Just heatstroke."
Zhang Lei snorted. "Right. Heard about Hu Snow-bitch. Forget her. After school, I'm treating you to crab at Ocean Glory. My treat."
Gratitude warmed Ji Feng's chest. In this vipers' nest, only Zhang Lei offered real kindness.
——
By period's end, Ji Feng had devoured three days' worth of missed material.
"Yo, Crazy." Zhang Lei elbowed him. "We had physics. Why're you memorizing English essays?"
"Not all of us are freaks who ace tests by osmosis." Ji Feng snapped the textbook shut. ''And stop calling me—"
He froze.
Two unresolved questions from earlier now floated in his mind—alongside the exact textbook pages where he'd read them. Word for word. Diagram for diagram.
As if someone had photocopied the content directly into his brain.
"This…" Ji Feng's fingers trembled. "Is this photographic memory?"