Chapter 7: 7, Substitute Teacher

When Zhang Jinglin was speechless at Ren Xiaosu's answer, he did not know that Ren Xiaosu himself was now puzzled, wondering if he had not simply imparted the knowledge he possessed to everyone, why the task remained unfinished.

Could the knowledge he taught be flawed?

“Sir,” Ren Xiaosu said earnestly: “You probably have never seen how large the wild wolves outside have become. Even many in the town have never encountered them, let alone faced them. But I have. Don’t even mention a pack—if it’s a lone wolf, just choose the cemetery.”

Originally, Ren Xiaosu thought Zhang Jinglin would refute him, for his words somewhat undermined the master’s authority and dignity.

Yet Zhang Jinglin pondered for a long time before suddenly saying: “From now on, you may sit in the classroom to teach. The survival course shall be taught by you.”

The school in the town outside Refuge Barrier 113 had its first substitute teacher.

However, Ren Xiaosu did not explain in class. Since he had seen lone wolves and even packs, how had he survived?

“Task completed, reward 1.0 strength.”

…

Until a day had passed, Ren Xiaosu had not found an opportunity to use the basic skill learning map. He went to the school because he enjoyed absorbing knowledge, but the knowledge on Zhang Jinglin’s body offered him no immediate survival benefit.

What Ren Xiaosu prioritized now was still survival.

Thus, the map remained unused, and there was no way to verify whether everything in his mind was truly his own imagination.

Yet Ren Xiaosu had been waiting, for he felt another task would come.

Now, having completed another task and gained 1.0 strength, it was a very intuitive number, and Ren Xiaosu’s physical sensations were even more direct.

For he could even feel the muscles beneath his clothes slightly bulging—this was a genuine supernatural phenomenon, and no one could suddenly gain extra muscle strength in a mere 0.1 seconds.

Now Ren Xiaosu was certain: the palace in his mind was indeed a unique ability.

This made Ren Xiaosu feel a wild joy. In fact, he should have been delighted long ago, but he feared it was false.

A frequent hunter must be intimately familiar with his own body—knowing how much weight he can carry, how swift and fierce his punches or blades can be.

Thus, Ren Xiaosu immediately assessed his new strength. If a normal adult male was 3.0, then his previous self was 2.5.

He was only 17; being slightly weaker than an adult was normal. Over the years, he had survived in the town not because of his strength, but because he was ruthless enough and cautious enough.

Now his strength surpassed that of a normal adult, meaning his chances of survival on this wasteland were greater.

On the way home, Yan Sixian exclaimed excitedly: “Brother, you’re now a substitute teacher. Maybe you’ll take over as the schoolmaster of our town someday.”

Ren Xiaosu hesitated: “It seems so. Zhang the master started as a substitute too, and only took over the school after the old master died.”

“Exactly! Everyone in our town knows that whoever becomes a substitute teacher might one day become the schoolmaster. Think—Zhang let you enter the school to teach and made you a substitute. He must be grooming you to succeed him,” Yan Sixian laughed: “If this gets out, people in the town will treat us with more respect.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Ren Xiaosu mused: “I think he might just be out of cigarettes.”

“…” Yan Sixian looked at him: “Brother, are you serious?”

“Actually, becoming a schoolmaster wouldn’t be bad,” Ren Xiaosu said: “When I do, I’ll pass the position to you. Then you’ll be the schoolmaster.”

For Ren Xiaosu, he had never considered becoming a schoolmaster. Not that he looked down on the profession—if he did, he wouldn’t have offered it to Yan Sixian.

Rather, he felt he was utterly unsuited for such work. If he never entered Refuge Barrier 113, the wilderness was where he belonged.

As Ren Xiaosu walked, fantasizing about giving the schoolmaster role to Yan Sixian, he failed to notice Yan Sixian gradually stopping behind him. Watching Ren Xiaosu’s back, Yan Sixian felt an indescribable emotion.

This youth, still bandaging his wounds, though sharp-tongued, always kept the best things for himself.

Ren Xiaosu turned back and, seeing Yan Sixian lagging far behind, snapped: “What’s wrong? Hurry up!”

“Coming!”

The factory smokestacks outside the barrier belched white smoke into the sky, and the setting sun cast its glow upon their backs, as if life had never known worry.

…

On the way home, Ren Xiaosu and Yan Sixian suddenly spotted a group emerging from Refuge Barrier 113—about thirteen or fourteen people. Half wore colorful, peculiar clothes, the other half in the combat uniforms of the 113 Barrier’s private mercenaries. Clearly, they had soldiers with them, no wonder they dared venture into the Jing Mountain region.

These people didn’t need a guide with combat skills—just someone who knew the way.

Yet Ren Xiaosu didn’t think the 113 Barrier’s private mercenaries were necessarily formidable. In fact, he rarely saw them out; whether they had combat experience or even seen blood was questionable.

At that moment, Ren Xiaosu noticed the mercenaries smoking cigarettes with filters. Such filtered cigarettes were rare in the town.

Only a faint smoke drifted over, and Ren Xiaosu distinctly smelled a strange odor within. It reminded him of Old Wang’s words—that many factory cigarettes were laced with addictive drugs to induce excitement.

Ren Xiaosu frowned. For a profession requiring mental clarity, why smoke such things?

He had seen people go mad from them, and these mercenaries merely smoked something more refined.

A crowd slowly gathered in the town to gawk, their clean faces starkly contrasting those of the townspeople.

“Brother, is the water supply inside Refuge Barrier 113 abundant? Can you wash your face every day?” Yan Sixian blinked his bright eyes.

“Don’t envy us—the oil on our faces protects our skin…” Ren Xiaosu offered a half-hearted comfort.

Yet he suddenly spotted an unusual figure among the group: a woman in a duck-bill cap, its brim pulled low to obscure her age, wearing relatively normal clothes that were loose yet fitted.

Ren Xiaosu focused on her, for seeing her was like encountering a beast in the wilderness.

This group was suspicious, and Ren Xiaosu trusted his instincts.

Ren Xiaosu and Yan Sixian stood at a distance, vaguely understanding the group was inquiring about something from Old Wang, the sparrow-collecting shopkeeper.

Only heard the loud-voiced Old Wang say: “If you’re heading to Jing Mountain, you’ll definitely need that Ren Xiaosu kid. Without him, you won’t make it. Also, there are wolf packs in the wilderness—I advise you not to take Jing Mountain.”

A mercenary sneered coldly: “Wolf packs flee at the sound of gunfire. Do we need to fear them?”

Ren Xiaosu froze. So wolf packs feared gunshots? Perhaps it was the beasts’ nature, but having never seen firearms, he couldn’t confirm if the man spoke truly, yet doubt lingered.

Another mercenary asked: “Who is Ren Xiaosu? We don’t need his skills—just someone who knows the way.”

“Oh, Ren Xiaosu is our town’s renowned hunting expert. He knows most paths; seeking him out is wise,” Old Wang said with a grin: “You’ll find him. Though this kid’s mind is a bit off…”

Upon hearing this, Ren Xiaosu, with Yan Sixian, turned to leave: “Is Old Wang’s son in your group? That chubby kid?”

Yan Sixian inhaled sharply: “Brother, don’t drag family into this…”

Ren Xiaosu frowned. He had intended to stay out of it, yet Old Wang had gone and recommended him to this mysterious troupe.