I, Wu Tong, an utterly ordinary high school senior—short, scrawny, plain-faced, mediocre grades, zero dating history—was walking home as usual after school.

Just as I passed a deserted alley, a doddering old coot in a black robe leaped out from nowhere: "Young man! Ever dreamt of learning magic?"

"Not interested."

This geezer was either senile or a scammer.

He blocked my path again, grinning obsequiously. "You’re a once-in-a-century magic prodigy! This old Archmage wishes to take you as his disciple—to pass on every secret I’ve mastered in my lifetime. Tempted?"

"Not even a little."

Seriously unhinged.

Suddenly, the old man dropped to his knees, clutching my leg while tears and snot streamed down his face. "I beg you! Become my disciple! I’ll mold you into humanity’s greatest Mage! We’ll crush the Demonkin and restore our race’s glory—"

I kicked him off without hesitation, took a deep breath, and sprinted all the way to my apartment complex. Only after confirming the lunatic hadn’t followed did I finally relax and head home.

My parents, senior engineers at a state-owned enterprise, had left two months ago for an overseas construction project. They wouldn’t return until next month, leaving me alone in the apartment.

After dinner came homework and revision. By 11 PM, as I packed my bag after finishing assignments, I found a strange book tucked inside. Its cover was just stapled printer paper bearing crisp black characters: *Beginner’s Guide to Magic*.

Weird. When did this get into my bag? I’d never bought it. That mad old man must’ve slipped it in. Curious, I flipped through a few pages. It looked legit—elemental affinity, magic matrices, spatial resonance—and even listed spell incantations with phonetic guides. Useful reference material for fantasy novels, maybe.

Of course, as a normal high school guy, I didn’t believe in magic. But alone at night, boredom got the better of me. I picked up the book and started reading random pages…

---

Next morning, I arrived at class fifteen minutes before homeroom as usual. Dropping my bag, I turned to the hippo-faced boy behind me. "Hurry up. Lend me your math homework."

"Here."

This hippo was He Wei—same height as me but twice my weight, barrel-shaped and wobbly when he walked. With his dark skin, he’d earned the nickname "Baby Hippo" across campus.

As I scrambled to copy his answers, He Wei’s beady eyes kept darting toward the classroom door. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool weather. His pudgy hands twisted anxiously in his lap—more nervous than during final exam results.

"Hey, Hippo," I muttered. "Hiding something from me?"

"N-nothing!" He Wei ducked his head, avoiding my gaze.

Classic liar.

Just as I pressed further, a graceful figure appeared at the doorway. Silky shoulder-length hair, a porcelain doll face, curves that defied her baggy uniform—this beauty magnetized every male gaze in the room. Half the class, myself included, stared openly, minds undoubtedly spinning filthy fantasies.

Our class flower, Xu Wanrou, glided to her seat. But as she opened her desk, she froze at a note inside. Her friend leaned over, whispering as they read it together, glancing repeatedly toward He Wei.

Connecting the dots, I hissed: "That note… was it from you? Finally confessed?"

"N-no way…" Two hundred pounds of He Wei blushed like a schoolgirl, still refusing to meet my eyes.

*Sigh*. Hopeless. Xu Wanrou had rejected dozens of admirers over two years. How would she ever choose a tub of lard like him? Unless she’d gone blind.

Sure enough, Xu Wanrou tore the note to shreds, pulled out her textbook, and began reviewing as if nothing happened. He Wei, watching furtively, turned ashen-faced—utterly broken.

I patted his shoulder. "Chin up, Hippo. Crowns fall when heads droop. Dry your tears—your rivals are laughing. Stay strong. You’ve still got your hands. Self-sufficiency is key."

He Wei stayed silent, crushed.

I thought this was just another mundane high school moment—until lunchtime. A hulking figure blocked our classroom door, scanning the room coldly. "Who’s He Wei?"

Every head swiveled in unison.

The guy strode in, arms crossed, glaring straight at me. "You He Wei?"

No way I’d tangle with this thug. I shook my head fast. "Not me. *He’s* He Wei."

He grabbed He Wei’s collar, yanking the trembling boy upright. "You. Come with me."

He Wei shot me desperate, pleading looks. I wanted to help—but this brute had muscle, plus two lackeys. I’d never won a fight in my life. My mouth stayed shut.

After they left, I cornered our class gossip hound. "Hey Know-It-All, who’s that transfer student?"

"My name’s Liu Jun!" He shot me a glare before answering. "You don’t know Yuan Kui? PE star from Class 3. Fights like a demon. They call him ‘Gibbon.’ Oh, and his older brother’s deep in the underworld. Nobody messes with him here."

Since when did our school have such a monster? He Wei was my only real friend… but reporting this meant making an enemy for life. Yuan Kui could retaliate anytime. Yet my buddy might be getting beaten bloody right now. Was doing nothing really okay?

Torn, I drifted toward the boys’ restroom at the corridor’s end.

Predictably, He Wei was pinned against the wall, cheek swollen red. Yuan Kui snarled, "You think you’re worthy of Wanrou? She’s *mine*."

Usually meek, He Wei suddenly snapped back, hormones raging: "Wanrou has no boyfriend! She’s not your property!"

*Slap!* His other cheek ballooned.

A crowd had gathered outside the restroom, buzzing:

Student A: "Wanrou? Xu Wanrou from Class 6?"

Student B: "Must be. But this fatso? What made him think he had a chance?"

Student C: "Blind lust. Everyone knows Yuan Kui’s chased her for two years. He’s beaten every guy who tried."

Student A: "Beauty’s a curse. I’m sticking to boys. Babe, study at my place tonight?"

Student B: "Stop it! Not in public…"

As I debated fetching a teacher, He Wei spotted me in the crowd. "Lao Wu! Get a teacher! Help!"

*Damn it!* Now I was exposed.

Ten seconds later, a lackey shoved me beside He Wei. The restroom’s urine stench filled my nose.

Yuan Kui lifted me by my collar, my toes barely scraping the floor. His eyes glinted dangerously. "Heard you’d *report* us? Brave little rat."

"It’s a misunderstanding!" I choked out. "I’d never call a teacher!"

"You think I’m three years old?"

He slammed me against the wall like a ragdoll. Pain exploded through my skull. One lackey whispered: "Boss, teachers’ll come if we drag this out. Teach them a lesson—make sure they never touch your girl again."

*Wait—‘them’? Don’t lump me in!*

Yuan Kui scanned the room, then grinned. "I’m feeling generous today. No beatings. Just drink from *that*."

His finger stabbed toward a filthy toilet bowl.