---
The energy in the class dropped like a rock into a pond the moment the door creaked open again.
The second period had begun.
And with it... came him.
No radiant smile.
No silky voice.
No flowing hair or gentle scent of perfume.
Instead—
Click. Tap. Step. Slam.
In walked a hunched, narrow-eyed man in his sixties with a crooked back, faded grey hair slicked back like he was still trying to impress women in the 80s, and a voice that could scare away the joy of summer.
Mr. Liang.
The dreaded Math teacher.
A man known for making equations bleed and students cry. If Satan taught Algebra, he'd probably take tutions from Mr. Liang.
As always, his first act upon entering class was to reach for the chalkboard with one hand, and wipe at the dusty surface with a rag in the other.
Without turning around, he called out in his usual dry tone, voice gruff and sharp:
"Is that brat Lin Feng finally in class after his glorious two-week vanishing act? Or should I call his parents today—again?"
Dead silence followed.
A few students looked toward Lin Feng, as if waiting for lightning to strike him down. Some boys grinned evilly.
Let's see how the pretty boy handles Mr. Liang, they thought.
But then Mr. Liang turned around.
Eyes squinting behind old gold-rimmed glasses.
He froze.
The chalk slipped from his hand and landed with a soft clack on the floor.
A stunned pause.
He narrowed his eyes further.
"…Who are you?" he asked suspiciously, scanning Lin Feng like a detective examining a suspect. "Are you a transfer student? This class is full."
Before Lin Feng could speak, a girl in the front row (still a little love-drunk) raised her hand and chirped—
"No, Teacher Liang! That's Lin Feng!"
"…Huh?"
The old man blinked rapidly. Adjusted his glasses.
Squinted harder.
He took a few steps closer, peering at Lin Feng like he was trying to solve a puzzle made of abs, jawlines, and calm confidence.
"…That's Lin Feng?"
He pointed a trembling finger. "You mean the same Lin Feng who once submitted a blank test and said 'math is an opinion'?"
Lin Feng gave a small bow. "Morning, Sir ."
"… quiet.
Mr. Liang grunted, turned around stiffly like a machine, and muttered—
"Hmph. Must've fallen into a magic cauldron over the holiday or something…"
Someone in the back snorted.
Wrong move.
"Zhang Wei," Mr. Liang snapped, spinning around like a retired drill sergeant. "Since you're clearly more amused than educated, come solve the trigonometry problem I gave for homework."
Zhang Wei sank into his seat. "No, sir."
"Exactly. Sit down and stop wasting my oxygen."
Mr. Liang returned to the board and finally started class, still mumbling under his breath, sighing exaggeratedly.
"Back in my day, puberty didn't come with face filters and ab muscles…
The new generation really has it easy "
---
Meanwhile, Lin Feng sat calmly, flipping open his math book, not a single ripple of emotion on his face. But inside—
---
Lin Feng's POV
So Mr. Liang is still annoyed with me , huh?
Lin Feng smirked a little.
Not that he could blame the old man. In his previous life, he'd spent more time avoiding math homework than solving it.
But now?
Let's just say…
But before he could complete his inner monologue,
Mr Liamg, spun around and jabbed the chalk toward Lin Feng.
"You! Solve it."
Gasps echoed across the room.
Even Fatty Qiang looked horrified "Bro… he didn't even warm up."
Mr. Liang smirked like a general about to watch a rookie fall on his own sword.
"Come. Make me believe in miracles."
The class collectively turned to Lin Feng, holding their breath.
The girls sparkled with curiosity.
The boys quietly hoped he'd embarrass himself.
Lin Feng rose from his chair without a single twitch of nervousness. His strides were light, silent, his posture straight yet relaxed.
He reached the front of the class.
Mr. Liang handed him the chalk with a skeptical grunt.
Lin Feng glanced at the board.
It was a trigonometry nightmare—nested identities, multiple angles, and a twist of sine and cosine that could give most top students a headache.
But for Lin Feng?
Something clicked.
The Heavenly Scholar ability activated like second nature. He didn't even consciously think about it—his brain visualized the answer, and his hand moved on its own.
The chalk danced.
Each movement was fluid, precise.
No pauses. No hesitation.
Numbers and symbols bloomed across the board in smooth, almost calligraphic strokes. His handwriting wasn't just neat—it was stunning. Like a calligrapher had decided to write math poetry.
And then—he placed the chalk back gently, turned around, and said softly:
> "I'm done, Teacher."
Silence.
Not a breath.
Not a whisper.
Even the old ceiling fan seemed to pause for dramatic effect.
---
Mr. Liang's POV
He blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
What the actual hell…
This problem? He'd put it up there just to flex his own intellect. He didn't even expect anyone to try solving it.
But Lin Feng?
That brat who used to sleep through his class, barely scraping a 40?
He just solved it faster than my top students would attempt it. With steps. With neatness. With…
Mr. Liang gulped. ...God-tier handwriting.
"...Correct," he muttered, nearly choking on his own spit. "Perfectly… correct."
---
Classroom Chaos
The classroom exploded.
"What the actual—!?"
"Did Lin Feng just… solve that?"
"Are we in a simulation? Someone slap me."
"His handwriting! It's prettier than my imaginary girlfriend's notes!"
Girls swooned.
Boys died inside.
Even Zhang Wei, who had been sharpening his pencil aggressively like a weapon, whispered, "I'm never using chalk again. I've been defeated."
Back to Lin Feng's POV
Lin Feng walked back to his seat with that same soft smile—like this was just routine.
He sat down.
And immediately—
Stare.
Fatty Qiang was gaping at him like he'd just witnessed the betrayal of the century.
"You…" Fatty whispered.
Lin Feng blinked innocently. "What?"
"You lied to me, you bastard."
"What?"
Fatty leaned closer, whispering dramatically.
> "You said if we failed Math, we'd fail together. Brotherhood in failing, you said. Blood pact, you said."
Lin Feng tried not to laugh.
Fatty gasped again. "Now you're out here solving devil problems like it's Sudoku?! With angel handwriting?!"
Lin Feng chuckled. "Relax, fatass. You're not gonna fail."
Fatty narrowed his eyes. "That's easy for Mr. Scholar to say. My math scores are allergic to double digits."
Lin Feng laughed softly and ruffled Fatty's hair. "Okay, okay. If you bomb your test, I'll tutor you myself."
Fatty perked up immediately. "Really?"
"Yeah."
"Even probability?"
"Especially probability."
"You're a good man, Lin Feng."
"Damn right I am."
Heavenly Scholar was no joke, well on second thought it was a joke.
And just as he finished solving the example problem on the board mentally, the System decided to grace him with its so called magnificent presence again.
> [SYSTEM]: Girls can't resist your charm and even your maths teachers would fall for your maths skills. Rejoice, Host, for you shall ascend as the God of Real Analysis !
(Extra info: Real analysis is arguably the hardest maths topic in universities)
I'm not even in Real Analysis yet and second of all I would rather not have an ugly, stupid, old man in his 50s fall for anything related to me, Lin Feng replied, deadpan.
> *[SYSTEM]: Details, details! The ability I gave you can handle astrophysics if you just believe!!
I believe I need you to shut up before I start laughing in class.
> *[SYSTEM]: …Tch. Ungrateful again. Wait until you realize my magnificance .
"Well honestly now that I think believing is too much effot just look at the question " The system said thinking to itself yeah that was a bit cringe had to cover up can't sound stupid.
Not wrong…
He smirked again.
---
Back to 3rd Person POV
Meanwhile, the boys behind him were quietly groaning.
One muttered darkly, "He's good at math too now? What the hell…"
"I heard he used to fail homework all the time."
"Maybe he did go through a secret government experiment."
"I'm convinced he sold his soul."
Another boy slammed his head on the desk and groaned, "First the abs. Then the accent. Now math. What's next, he can sing too?"
A few girls heard that and gasped.
"Can he sing??"
"Shhhhhh, don't give me ideas. I'm already dying here."
In the front, Miss Zhang Rui peeked into the classroom during a break from her next class, saw Lin Feng flipping through his notes casually, and nearly walked into the door frame.
"...I need water and maybe a break," she muttered, face pink.
And Mr. Liang?
He kept stealing glances at Lin Feng like he still wasn't convinced he wasn't a clone or a doppelgänger.
> "...I'm watching you," he muttered.
Lin Feng just smiled.
---
[End of Chapter 8]
Author's Note : If you like the chapter please make sure to leave a review it helps alot with the engagement of the novel