After dinner, Evan Lin returned to his room.
He glanced through his books, did a few exercises, then sat cross-legged on his bed and began circulating the Grand Dao Qi-Refining Art.
The qi vortex at his Bubbling Spring Point was slowly being replenished.
Cultivating at the first layer of Qi-Refining was still painfully slow. After running a small cycle, Evan felt sticky all over and grabbed his clothes to head for the shower.
Lynn Chen happened to come out of her room, holding a cup of unbrewed milk tea—probably heading for hot water. When she saw Evan step out, she snorted, tilted her head, and walked away.
She was still brooding over what happened that night—even though, without Evan, the whole group would've been doomed. But in her view, Evan acted too late, as if he wanted them embarrassed.
Evan took a quick shower, went back to his room, called his mom for a quick chat, and soon fell asleep.
Early the next morning, Evan got up for a run, had breakfast, and headed to school.
When he arrived in class, quite a few students looked at Evan with wary eyes.
Evan’s recent performance in class and across the school had changed how people saw him. Just yesterday, he faced Tyson Liu head-on on the field and didn’t get beaten up.
Most rumors said Evan was only spared because Yolanda Fang was there, but just getting close to a campus beauty like her was enough to make the boys resent him.
Evan ignored all the stares around him.
'Evan, the Summer Cup starts in a few days. Don’t forget you promised to play!'
'Remember what you said? Aren’t you the big shot? You said even Ethan Yi isn’t qualified to play with you! Hope you surprise us.' Darren Zhao shouted as Evan walked in.
His eyes were full of mockery—Evan was getting too cocky, and the whole class was waiting for him to mess up.
'Trash.' Evan spat out the word, not even glancing at Darren Zhao, who was still waiting, smug, for a show. Evan walked right past him, leaving that word hanging.
Darren Zhao’s face froze.
'Keep bragging, Evan. Is your mouth all you’ve got? You think you’re so great—why don’t you dare play?' Darren slammed the desk, standing taller than Evan.
Hearing Evan’s blunt provocation, Darren Zhao couldn’t sit still.
His face burned—he felt totally humiliated by Evan.
Darren Zhao stood up, glaring at Evan with pure hatred.
Evan tossed his bag onto the desk, pulled out his textbook, and laid it out—never lifting his head. He said lazily, 'Why should I play soccer? Only boring people care about boring games like that.'
'Besides, you guys can’t even play properly. You expect me to win you some face? Sorry, I refuse. My time’s worth more than yours.'
Evan spoke in a slow, steady tone—never once looking at Darren Zhao.
With Victor Feng, the team’s striker, now in the hospital, Class 7 was already weak. Last year, they finished third from last in the Summer Cup; this year, they might end up dead last.
'I bet you’re just scared to play.' Another player sneered at Evan.
'Yeah, Darren, don’t count on him—Evan’s obviously scared. He knows if he plays, he’ll embarrass himself. Anyone who can get close to Yolanda Fang can’t be that dumb.' Another student said sarcastically.
'Now this kid’s cost us Victor Feng, lost us our striker. We practiced so hard, we could’ve placed well in the Summer Cup—but Evan ruined it. If we lose, it’s all on him!'
The whole class erupted.
Plenty of angry eyes landed on Evan, but he didn’t care at all.
'Enough! Quiet down, class is about to start!' Mia Chen, who’d been silent up front, finally stood up, frowning.
'Wow, even Class Monitor Mia’s defending you now, Evan. You must be something.' Darren Zhao sneered.
'Darren, what are you talking about!' Mia Chen’s face changed. 'I’m the class monitor—can’t I keep order?'
Darren Zhao shrugged, not impressed. 'Sure, sure, you’re the boss. But you only step in when we’re talking about Evan. Does talking about him make you mad, Class Monitor?'
'If that’s the case, just say the word and we’ll stop.' Darren Zhao plopped down, arms crossed, staring at Mia Chen.
'You...' Mia Chen’s face flushed, and the whole class shifted their attention from Evan to her.
'I’ll play.' Evan had just opened his textbook, planning to crush physics today.
Seeing Mia Chen standing there, taking the hit for him, Evan sighed quietly.
'Finally got some guts, huh? Fine, we’ll see what you’ve got—just don’t be worse than us losers, and don’t lose too badly.' Darren Zhao grinned coldly.
'But I have a condition.' Evan looked at Darren Zhao, eyes calm.
'A condition? Worried we’ll go easy on you? Relax, we’ll give you your chance—every ball will go to you. Just hope you don’t get shut down right away.' Darren Zhao lounged back, unconcerned.
He didn’t mind passing Evan the ball—if Evan got blocked and after all his bragging, he’d be the one embarrassed.
But Evan just shook his head. 'I said it before—you guys aren’t qualified to be my teammates.'
'So, here’s my condition.'
'You guys play the first half, I’ll play the second half solo. That way, you’ll see just how trash you really are.'
Silence.
The whole class went quiet for a moment after Evan spoke.
Everyone stared at Evan, whose face remained perfectly calm.
Too cocky!
Mia Chen frowned and snapped, 'Evan! The Summer Cup is a team event for our class—how can you play alone? If we lose, it’s Class 7’s reputation, not just yours!'
Mia was completely annoyed—Evan was way too arrogant, and now she almost regretted helping him out.
The kid didn’t understand the situation at all—just kept digging himself deeper.
If he really played and the score ended up way behind, it’d be all of Class 7 that lost face.
But Evan just looked at her, eyes calm. 'Class Monitor, if you’re scared, you don’t need to play.'
Mia Chen was speechless.
Evan didn’t bother explaining himself. He opened his textbook, ready to crush physics.