The classroom door swung open—and Teacher Dam Bieng stepped inside.
Whispers still buzzed through the room, all centered on one topic: Mu Lan and Beng Zeng.
"Hey, what's wrong with Mu Lan? He looks like a twig—but that kick? If it hit me, I'd be dead."
"I don't know… but if he's gotten this strong, could that useless chubby kid beside him have leveled up too?"
"Probably. His whole attitude changed. That 'useless fat kid'? Gone. Replaced by someone with real confidence. Best not mess with them."
Teacher Dam Bieng overheard the murmurs—even if unintentionally. He crossed his arms and raised his voice.
"HEY! What's all this commotion? What happened before I got here?"
A student stepped forward.
"Sir, before you arrived… there was a sparring match. Between Mu Lan and Yao Lao. It followed all official rules—but Yao Lao took serious damage. He's in the infirmary now."
Dam Bieng's eyes narrowed.
"What? Yao Lao—the Military Academy candidate—got hurt? How? Mu Lan, how did you manage that?"
Mu Lan shrugged calmly.
"I just threw a single kick, Teacher. Nothing worth making a fuss over."
"Nothing worth making a fuss over?" Dam Bieng smirked. "Then how about you and I spar right now? Let the class watch. They might learn something."
Mu Lan bowed slightly.
"As you wish, Teacher."
They stepped onto the same mat where Yao Lao had been launched into the wall just minutes earlier.
"Ready?" Dam Bieng asked.
"Ready."
3…
2…
1…
FIGHT!
The entire class held its breath.
Mu Lan had just fought Yao Lao—was he even recovered? And now he faced Teacher Dam Bieng, a seasoned martial artist known for his brutal precision.
This kid must've eaten lion's heart for breakfast…
Dam Bieng struck first—a sharp right hook aimed at Mu Lan's jaw.
But Mu Lan tilted his head with effortless grace. The fist whistled past.
Before the teacher could follow up with his left, Mu Lan had already slipped aside again—smooth, fluid, like water avoiding stone.
To Mu Lan, the teacher wasn't a threat.
He was just… a sandbag with arms.
Dam Bieng froze mid-combo, stunned.
None of my strikes are landing. Not even close.
He'd trained hundreds of students—but this boy moved like a master with decades of experience.
I need to end this—before I embarrass myself in front of the whole class.
"Alright, that's enough," Dam Bieng said, raising a hand. "Let's pause here."
Mu Lan stepped back immediately. "Understood, Teacher."
The teacher turned to the class, eyes sharp.
"Alright, everyone—what did you learn from this exchange? Speak freely. If you want to improve your combat skills, come to me. No question is too small."
Silence. Then hesitant voices:
"I… didn't understand anything. Mu just kept dodging."
"I learned that Mu's strength is way beyond ours."
"..."
"..."
The discussion flowed so naturally that Dam Bieng didn't even notice how quickly the period ended.
"Alright, class," he finally said. "That's it for today. Dismissed. Next week, I expect you to have practiced your techniques. We'll see who's been serious."
Outside the classroom, the rumor spread like wildfire.
"Hey—did you hear? Yao Lao lost to a twig! He's lying in the infirmary right now. My friend saw the whole fight!"
"Shut up. Yao Lao's in the Military Academy. There's no way he lost to some scrawny nobody. Did you even see it?"
"Fine, don't believe me! I saw him in the infirmary with my own eyes. If you don't trust me, come with me—I'll show you!"
"Alright, fine. We'll go. But if you're lying… I'll make you regret it."
Yao Lao's inner circle—his loyal followers—marched toward the infirmary, convinced someone was slandering their leader.
There's no way our patron got beaten by a walking stick.
But when they pushed open the infirmary door…
They froze.
There, on the bed, lay Yao Lao—bruised, bandaged, unconscious.
One of them grabbed the rumor-spreader by the collar.
"You! If you knew he was here, you must know who did this! Don't call him a 'twig'—no twig could do this to our boss!"
The boy stammered, "I—I just meant Mu Lan! Everyone calls him that because he looks like a twig! I didn't mean it literally!"
"Enough talk," growled another. "Where is he now?"
"He… he and Beng Zeng headed to the cafeteria, I think…"
The group exchanged glances.
Their leader had been humiliated.
And the one who did it?
Was having lunch like nothing happened.