Riverdale, Southvale Province—a prefecture-level city among the twenty-one provinces of Sinovera.
Within Riverdale, at Riverdale Experimental High School.
It was the season of blossoming spring. The sunlight was bright and gentle, casting warmth everywhere, yet the recent drizzle had left a lingering chill in the air.
Four red-and-white teaching buildings stood solemn and silent on the campus, each about four or five stories tall. The third building’s third floor, center section—
A martial arts theory class was underway, impassioned and lively.
Knock knock.
Mr. Johnson, dressed in a dark sweater with graying hair and around fifty years old, knocked hard on the chalkboard covered in notes with his left hand, reminding, "Pay attention, everyone! This is important! Every point here counts! Points, you hear? You must get these points, understand?"
Knock.
Mr. Johnson slapped his left palm on the board: "I know you’re all tired—there are only ninety-nine days until the college entrance exam. But martial arts theory is different from other subjects. If you just memorize, your scores will shoot up."
Can you do that with math? No, math still requires calculation.
Chinese isn’t any easier—it requires deep understanding and integration.
Geography, history, and politics demand even more flexibility.
But martial arts theory? You don’t need anything but rote memorization to score points! Is there anything easier than this? Think about it—what subject could be simpler than martial arts theory—
Mr. Johnson pounded the lectern with conviction: "None!"
Knock knock!
Adjusting his black-rimmed glasses, Mr. Johnson tapped the board: "You have ten minutes. I’ll call on you for answers soon."
With that,
He added, "Martial arts theory counts for thirty points on the college entrance exam. You must get every single one—don’t lose a point."
He took a breath, ignoring the swirling chalk dust, resting wearily on the lectern. His gaze, both tired and full of hope, drifted toward the window.
Senior year.