Volume One: First Signs of Brilliance Chapter Twenty-One: How Much Is the Subsidy?

Wang Jue, whose cultivation had reached the third level of Body Tempering, had to expend considerable effort to escort Luo Shui to the front of the teachers’ building. Fortunately, the star power within him far surpassed that of others at the same stage; otherwise, squeezing through the crowd would have been nearly impossible. Even so, his star power was nearly depleted, and it was only with Luo Shui’s help as she recovered that they managed to reach their destination.

At this moment, quite a few students crowded around the entrance—not just martial artists at the Body Tempering stage, but also ordinary students without any cultivation, all eager to witness the commotion. After all, it was only natural to be curious.

Wang Jue and Luo Shui spotted several of their classmates who were also martial artists. Wang Jue didn’t know them well, and with so many people between them, he had no intention of joining their group.

“Wow, I didn’t expect there to be so many people inside the teachers’ building! And this is only the third year; if you count the second and first years, there’d probably be even more!” Luo Shui had already slipped out from Wang Jue’s arms and now stood obediently by his side, her eyes darting around with excitement, as if she had forgotten the earlier incident between them.

Following her voice, Wang Jue glanced inside and saw that the crowd inside the teachers’ building was no less dense than outside. He nodded, “Of course. But I think most of the people inside are martial artists like us. The ordinary students are probably all outside.”

“Besides, the teachers’ building isn’t that big. Just in our third year alone, there are over a hundred classes. If each class has about ten martial artists, that’s a thousand people. There’s no way everyone could fit inside at once. Look at us, we’re still outside.”

It wasn’t that Wang Jue knew exactly how many martial artists there were in the third year, but when he glanced around upon arriving, he estimated that, excluding the curious onlookers, there were about two or three hundred people exuding the aura of martial artists. Perhaps a few classes had yet to arrive, but it wouldn’t be many; at this point, anyone not here was probably still making their way through the crowd, unless, like Wang Jue, they managed to push forward by sheer force.

Growing bored, Wang Jue was about to strike up a conversation with Luo Shui when she tugged at his sleeve and said first, “Enough chatting, the teachers are coming out.”

Though Luo Shui was usually boisterous and carefree, never bothering to use her brain, that didn’t mean she was foolish. On the contrary, she was highly intelligent. She just didn’t feel the need to think much when she was with Wang Jue. Those with high intelligence generally possess keen awareness of the bigger picture.

With the teachers’ arrival, the scene fell silent. Homeroom teachers from each class began gathering their students together. Wang Jue finally realized why there had been so many students and teachers inside earlier—it turned out they had arrived by class.

Class Six, Wang Jue’s class, assembled the fastest, perhaps because its students hadn’t gotten too dispersed. Once Teacher Liu had finished checking the headcount, he instructed them to stay put and went over to join the other teachers, likely to report on his class’s situation.

The group of teachers present wasn’t limited to third-year homeroom teachers; Wang Jue clearly recognized several school leaders among them, including the director of studies, vice-principal, principal, and so on.

What truly surprised him was that these figures, whom students rarely glimpsed around the school, were now clustered around a group of military officers in uniform, who seemed to hold rather high ranks. The school leaders wore smiles as bright as chrysanthemums, their old faces wrinkled in flattery. To Wang Jue, these smiles were less about currying favor and more about placating.

Soon, as though everything had been settled, Teacher Liu beckoned Wang Jue and his classmates to come over. Seeing their teacher’s signal, Wang Jue’s group hurried to assemble, completing the task with ease.

Unlike his classmates, who stared ahead, Wang Jue’s gaze lingered on the military officers surrounded by the school leaders. The officers stepped forward, apparently preparing to speak. It was clear from the lack of urgency to disperse the surrounding students that whatever was about to be said was not considered a secret.

“Students, greetings. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Zhao Qiang, and I am a soldier.” The lead officer, a man of imposing stature, stepped forward and spoke crisply and to the point. He didn’t mention his unit or rank, only stated simply that he was a soldier.

Seeing the students assembled before him, standing in formation behind their teachers and watching intently, Zhao Qiang was evidently satisfied. The onlookers were also quiet, causing no disturbance.

“I’m sure your teachers have already briefed you on the situation before you arrived, so I won’t repeat myself,” Zhao Qiang continued. “The new policy introduced by the Safe Zone will benefit everyone, but compared to ordinary people who cannot cultivate, martial artists stand to gain much more.”

“Those of you standing before me should all be martial artists. So let me tell you—the policy is even better than you might imagine.”

His expression grew solemn. “Our purpose in coming to your school today is to evaluate your performance and grant you some subsidies and additional points. Of course, that’s just the most basic benefit.”

“In addition, those of you with outstanding talent may be recruited early by major high schools or even universities, including our military academies. The choice will be yours.”

Zhao Qiang’s powerful voice rang out at the entrance of the teachers’ building, echoing in every student’s ears. Students and teachers inside, those outside observing, and especially the martial artists at the front like Wang Jue, could all hear him clearly.

If one considered the students of the Tenth Middle School and their usual penchant for idle speculation, it was certain that by the end of the day—no, even before the meeting was over—the entire student body would know what had transpired.

Standing at the end of his class’s line, Wang Jue never took his eyes off Zhao Qiang, pondering whether things were really as simple as Zhao claimed.

The Safe Zone had suddenly rolled out this new policy, ostensibly treating everyone equally, but almost everyone could see it was clearly a policy designed to support martial artists, with ordinary people as little more than afterthoughts.

Wang Jue wasn’t one to think the worst of things, but this had happened so abruptly that it was hard to believe there wasn’t something behind it—at least from the perspective of the Safe Zone authorities. Such a move seemed irrational. The more martial artists there were who outstripped ordinary people, the harder it would be to maintain control. If martial artists began to lord it over the populace, the risk of riots and panic would increase dramatically.

For martial artists, strength was the ultimate weapon.

“To wield a sharp blade is to awaken the will to kill.” This saying was not uttered lightly.

If someone suddenly gained power or authority beyond their own ability to reason, they could undergo unimaginable changes. Whether those changes would be good or bad was impossible to predict.

“In general, that’s the situation. The Safe Zone values freedom and democracy, and this test is entirely voluntary. If you don’t wish to participate, you don’t have to. The results will have no bearing on your monthly exams.”

As Wang Jue pondered, Zhao Qiang finished his speech. The martial artists from each class listened with rapt attention, not daring to miss a word.

“Well, that’s all I have to say. Does anyone have any questions? If so, now’s the time to ask.”

Silence fell.

In this atmosphere, even the usually boisterous and lively Luo Shui was uncharacteristically quiet. With so many teachers, school leaders, and military officers present, who would dare make a scene?

All the students present were still sheep who had yet to step into society. None had the confidence to speak up, especially when everyone else was silent. Even those who had questions wouldn’t dare be the first to raise their voice.

Who knew what might happen if they did?

“What’s this? None of you have any questions?” Zhao Qiang understood the situation perfectly and reassured them, “It’s all right, ask whatever’s on your mind.”

He glanced at the school leaders beside him.

Catching his eye, the school leaders immediately understood. Though some were about to speak, the principal beat them to it: “Students, if you have questions, just ask. It’s a rare opportunity—there’s no need to be shy.”

“Um… I... I’d like to ask, how much is the subsidy?” A boy with a gentle face and a shy demeanor stammered out, asking the question that was on most martial artists’ minds.

“Subsidy?” Zhao Qiang was momentarily surprised, then quickly answered, “The subsidy is based on your current strength. Ten thousand for the first level of Body Tempering, and an additional ten thousand for each level thereafter.”

He paused to recall the policy, then added, “You can claim this multiple times. That is, ten thousand for the first level, twenty for the second, thirty for the third. If you’re at the third level, you can claim sixty thousand at once. And if you break through before the exams next month, you can reapply and receive a new reward based on your new level.”

Having explained in detail, Zhao Qiang kindly asked, “So, does everyone understand now?”