Truly in Love

Mu Nujiao turned her flushed cheeks away and shot a fierce glare at Ai Tutu, the source of the ridiculous suggestion. Feigning indignation, she said, "Stop talking nonsense. Who'd want someone who causes trouble every single day? It'd be a miracle if he didn't drag the Mu Family's name through the mud."

The moment Ai Tutu heard Mu Nujiao's denial, she sidled over to Mo Fan with a mischievous grin and whispered, "Big Bad, have you noticed? Ever since you came back, Nujiao-jie just loves putting you down and throwing cold water on everything you do. I've never seen her treat any other guy like this — if she doesn't genuinely hate you, then she's fallen for you. And when I said you should marry into the Mu Family, I never specified it had to be her. The Mu Family has plenty of daughters to go around."

That was all the prompting Mo Fan needed — he was already nodding enthusiastically.

Mu Nujiao's face went even redder. She hadn't expected the two of them to gang up on her like this. She turned away, refusing to say another word to either of them, partly to escape the growing awkwardness.

"Looks like saving her life back then really paid off," Ai Tutu remarked with a grin.

Mo Fan nodded along vigorously, then asked with complete sincerity, "If marrying into her family is on the table, I'd do it even without the Enchanted Gear."

Ai Tutu rolled her eyes. "Dream on. For someone of Nujiao-jie's standing, the Mu Family would hold out for at least a high-level young Mage — the kind with a genuine shot at the supreme Transcendent Tier. You're just a run-of-the-mill Intermediate-Level Mage with no notable background. At best, you'd get matched with some homely, lower-status daughter of the Mu Family — several rungs below their prized jewel. Any Noble Clan seeking to marry Nujiao-jie would need to pile this entire room high with premium Enchanted Gear just for the bride price. The idea of anyone paying you to take her is laughable."

"So what you're telling me," Mo Fan said, tilting his head back with a theatrical sigh, "is that even if I married into a Great Lineage, I'd just end up as some glorified lackey, bossed around by the young lord and young lady. What a wretched class society — so entrenched in feudal prejudice that it won't even let two people who are truly in love be together."

Ai Tutu doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach.

Out on the balcony, Mu Nujiao had finally heard enough. She'd thought that when confronted with something this serious, Mo Fan would at least reflect on himself — feel even a shred of wounded pride. Instead, the man had absolutely no shame whatsoever.

*Who on earth is "truly in love" with him?*

Mu Nujiao retreated to her room as fast as possible, before the two of them could embarrass her any further.

*That Ai Tutu, honestly.* When they'd agreed to share the apartment, hadn't they promised to keep this arrogant Big Bad in check together? Now she was completely on his side. And lately, whenever Mo Fan came up in conversation, those dark eyes of hers would light right up.

*At this rate, the Ai Family might just go ahead and draft him as their son-in-law themselves.*

The week when challengers could come at him was drawing closer, and Mo Fan had spent every spare moment catching up on his cultivation — no time even to work on his Armor Enchanted Gear. These days he couldn't step out to grab a meal without someone pointing a phone at him and snapping away while whispering, "Fire Element Zhao Ritian, caught in the wild!"

He'd been officially crowned "Fire Element Zhao Ritian" — his arrogance and swagger were now common knowledge across campus.

His notoriety had spread far faster than that of any student who'd spent months carefully scheming their way onto the Rankings Board.

Mo Fan, for one, refused to accept it.

*Which idiot came up with such a pathetic nickname?*

*Just wait. Give it less than a month, and Pearl Academy will know their real Big Bad is back.*

That afternoon, Mo Fan returned from the training grounds.

The facility was impressively well-equipped — not only did it feature moving targets to sharpen students' magical accuracy, but each station also had a small mana stone dais that allowed trainees to rapidly restore their Magical Energy.

Under normal circumstances, Magical Energy recovered slowly, taking a great deal of time to replenish — yet a full training session could drain everything stored in a Star Nebula almost instantly. Having a rapid-recovery stone dais on the grounds was a meaningful boost to any cultivator's efficiency.

This premium training ground, however, was reserved for the top 300 students. Everyone else made do with the ordinary facilities — and those ranked even lower probably didn't even get moving targets.

At Pearl Academy, every privilege flowed to those at the top. For those stuck at the bottom, the only way out of that resource-starved predicament was to challenge upward, harder and more desperately than anyone else.

After several days of training at the academy, Mo Fan finally understood why lower-ranked students threw themselves at challengers so relentlessly. Setting aside the direct rewards, every cultivation-related facility the school offered was tiered — and the tier you received depended entirely on your standing.

Leaving the training grounds, his head started to ache again. The truth was, the cultivation privileges that came with his 100th-place ranking suited him perfectly — he had no intention of giving them up. But with so many challengers lined up, they could grind him down through sheer attrition. How was he supposed to hold onto that spot?

He was still turning it over in his mind when he rounded a corner and walked straight into a young man who had his head down — slight and meek-looking, the kind of person who seemed to shrink from the world.

"Sorry, sorry — I didn't mean to," the young man stammered.

Mo Fan was baffled. The fault was clearly his own; he'd been lost in thought when he turned. Yet this guy was the one apologizing over and over. He couldn't help thinking the kid was thoroughly spineless.

"Aren't you Zheng Jiahui?" Mo Fan recognized the dead-last student on the rankings.

Zheng Jiahui looked up, and the color drained from his face when he saw who it was — Mo Fan, the most universally despised person on campus. He stammered, "How… how is it you? I… I'd better keep my distance."

Mo Fan's eyes lit up. He grabbed Zheng Jiahui's arm before the boy could retreat and grinned. "What are you afraid of? You're already at rock bottom in everyone's eyes. You're no better off than me — I'm the whole Fire Hall's public enemy."

"I know I'm one of the people you'd call useless," Zheng Jiahui said quietly. "I… I'll admit I really am terrible. But I… I can't bring myself to talk back to teachers, and I can't challenge my classmates."

Mo Fan clapped a firm hand on the timid boy's shoulder. "So — do you want to climb out of last place? I know that kind of thing can really eat at you."

"It's fine," Zheng Jiahui said. "I've been last for more than half a year now. Once the year is up, I'll just leave Pearl Academy."

"Don't give up on yourself," Mo Fan said, eyes gleaming. "Help me with one thing, and I'll guarantee you a substantial haul of cultivation resources — and get you out of last place. As payment, I'll lend you the Star Nebula Artifact the school allocated to the 100th-ranked student. What do you say?"

The moment Mo Fan laid eyes on Zheng Jiahui — dead last in all of Fire Hall — a plan had already begun to take shape in his mind.