Zhao Mu tucked Meng Qiuer's bank card into his pocket without the faintest flicker of excitement or embarrassment; his composure stayed intact.
He knew he was worth every yuan of it.
That unforced poise only deepened Meng Qiuer's admiration.
He studied Zhao Mu with the covetous gaze of a merchant who'd stumbled on rare treasure and moved to close the distance.
"From now on we're friends, haha! Anything money can fix, bring it to me."
Meng Qiuer told Zhao Mu to use his childhood name—Meng Qiuqiu—a moniker that suited his rotund face perfectly.
Zhao Mu couldn't hold back a laugh. "You make friends this directly? Just flash cash?"
Meng Qiuqiu answered as if it were obvious. "Of course! Money's the best thing in the world; anyone willing to share it is worth knowing."
Zhao Mu smiled and nodded. "You've got a sharp eye."
Seeing they were still Eating, Meng Qiuqiu didn't linger; he stood with a grin.
"Hope you ace the upcoming Martial Trial. I'll take my leave!"
Zhao Mu dipped his head in farewell.
Once they'd walked off, the teenager at Meng Qiuqiu's side couldn't help asking, "Young Master Meng, the trial isn't over. He might not even qualify for Qingfeng Camp. Giving him a million now—what if he fails?"
Meng Qiuqiu chuckled twice at the remark.
"Zhuo Yun, you still don't get it!"
He wagged a finger; he'd handed out plenty of gold-plated name-cards, but only one universal card loaded with a million yuan.
Those cards had been meant to recruit the B-rank prodigies he'd meet later.
Yet the instant he saw Zhao Mu, he knew he'd spotted a hidden Treasure Trove.
"Adding flowers to brocade can't compare to sending coal in winter. Once he's inside Qingfeng Camp, my money won't buy half as much goodwill."
"I trust my judgment—Zhao Mu will sail into Qingfeng Camp. And he's no ordinary guy."
He stretched until his pudgy frame looked like an expanding rubber man.
"In business, no profit comes risk-free; networking's the same."
A mere million was something Meng Qiuqiu could afford to lose.
He glanced at Zhuo Yun beside him—the bodyguard his family had paid through the nose to select from this year's Trial Participants just to shepherd him into Qingfeng Camp.
"Zhuo Yun, what do you make of Zhao Mu?"
Zhuo Yun's bright, razor-sharp gaze felt like a hawk soaring the Nine Heavens—no menace, only resolve and reliability.
"Zhao Mu..."
Recalling Zhao Mu's performance on the plaza, he answered frankly, "I sense something different—more steady, decisive, and shrewd than the average Trial Participant."
"Exactly!"
Meng Qiuqiu laughed as his eyes swept the crowd, though he no longer planned to lavish cash on anyone else—Eating, life-skill proficiency 96.
The skill rapidly converts food into bodily energy.
No matter how much he eats, nothing sits undigested in his stomach.
Zhao Mu's appetite was huge; every bite was processed almost instantly.
After finishing, he habitually swapped demon clown's skill for Turtle Breathing Technique.
Good habits demand upkeep—every second counts.
Leaving the canteen, they were waylaid again by several classmates from the same school.
"Congrats, Zhao Mu! First in the written exam—who'd have thought you're now the favorite to pass the trial?"
Some couldn't hide the sourness in their tone; youth shows.
Zhao Mu gave them a sideways glance. "Need something?"
They hurried to explain.
"We're from the same school; let's team up for the combat phase."
Still clinging to the hope of riding his coattails—they'd all seen what he could do.
But Zhao Mu said flatly, "I told you, I'm not interested."
Someone's face darkened. "Come on, Zhao Mu, we're classmates. The teachers told us to help each other and boost No. 2 High's admission rate—everyone wins."
Zhao Mu shot them a cold smile.
"Too bad you're all too weak—you'll only drag me down. Why saddle myself with dead weight?"
The blunt words painted every face an ugly shade.
"You—"
Zhao Mu went on, "Never burn incense when all is well, then hug Buddha's feet in crisis. You mocked me for Awakening an E-rank Talent; now that I might pass, you swarm to curry favor."
"Think you're the only ones smart? Everyone else is an idiot?"
Zhao Mu clicked his tongue, eyeing them with disdain. "Dream on—it's not even dark yet."
With that he strode forward.
Several students clenched their teeth, refusing to step aside, faces promising retribution.
Zhao Mu treated them like air; a light brush of his shoulder felt to them like a baseball fired from a cannon.
"Agh!!"
They screamed and hit the ground.
Li Zixuan and Zhou Haoyu chased after him, faces full of smug triumph.
Smart move—no kicking a man when he's down, and knowing reward requires investment.
Otherwise how could they have latched onto Zhao Mu's golden thigh?
The trio headed for Xiuyun Mountain and soon reached its foot.
A wide training ground spread below; Qingfeng Camp was huge, yet this seemed outside its formal grounds, so no other Trainees were in sight.
Following the signs, they entered a zone ringed by wire fencing.
At the edge stood a row of tall buildings—barracks or perhaps storage for training gear.
Five Discipline Inspection Department members in dark-green fatigues were already waiting.
Their faces looked hammered from iron-black; under the June sun, sweat streamed down their dark cheeks into their collars, yet none showed a flicker of expression.
Arriving early, Zhao Mu's group found shade and sat; Zhao Mu closed his eyes to rest, tuning his body for the upcoming trial.
Soon the candidates assembled. Instructor Xie Yingxue didn't appear; a new trainer took her place.
From afar he reared like an upright black bear, so burly his uniform looked ready to rip.
A huge head bristled with hair, the bushy beard stealing every glance.
"You brats!!"
Zhang Biao surveyed the sea of examinees, a cold, cruel grin spreading across his face.
"Are you ready to die!?"
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)