Poor but talented scholar

Chapter 22 Hedging

After listening, Lu Chuan had already made up his mind.

These three form a stable circle.

The constable's son came up with the idea, the oil mill's son provided the capital, and the old scholar's grandson contributed his reputation.

In their eyes, Lu Chuan, a peasant from the bottom of society, is the best tool to show off their sense of superiority.

"Thank you," Lu Chuan said to Liu Zhe in a low voice.

"You'd better watch out," Liu Zhe said with some worry. "I saw Li Jigang trying to get close to the Master's attendants. I wonder what kind of trouble he's up to now. These people have a lot of tricks up their sleeves when it comes to messing with people."

......

During lunch break, the backyard of the school building was quiet and deserted.

Lu Chuan did not go to the backyard, but instead returned to the school dormitory that he had just cleaned that morning.

He remembered that in the back corner, there was a dilapidated bench that had been piled up in a junkyard because it had been neglected for years.

One of the stool's legs had long been cracked, and the teacher had originally planned to have the school worker chop it up for firewood.

Lu Chuan walked up to the pile of miscellaneous wood and looked at it carefully.

What caught his eye wasn't the stool legs, but the "hardwood stretcher" that connected the stool seat to the legs.

To ensure stability, these crossbars are usually made of extremely tough elm or locust wood. Over the years, they have been kicked and rubbed by schoolchildren, and their surfaces have become oily and smooth. The top of the crossbar has broken and formed a wedge-like angle.

Lu Chuan bent down and gently flicked the broken part with his fingers.

The crossbar was already unstable, and with the help of his sleeve, he twisted it with his fingertips, and the piece of hardwood, about eight inches long, silently fell into his sleeve.

This thing is heavier than a wooden stick and has a more stable center of gravity.

Most importantly, it is "waste" in the school dormitory.

Even if it's discovered later, he can say he picked it up to use as a "paperweight," and no one can find fault with that.

......

The last rays of sunlight at the end of the day stretched the shadows of the school buildings to an extremely long length.

Lu Chuan leisurely tidied the stack of yellowed draft paper, his fingertips brushing against his sleeve.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Li Ji wink at Zhang Fugui, and the three of them deliberately slowed down their movements, as if waiting for their prey to be caught.

Lu Chuan, carrying his shrunken satchel, had just reached the narrow passageway leading to the backyard when three menacing figures appeared in the once quiet corridor.

Li Ji, Wang Lang, and Zhang Fugui stood in a triangular formation, blocking the only three escape routes.

"Lu Chuan, you're a smart man." Li Ji toyed with an expensive jade pendant in his hand, his eyes sinister. "This academy has high standards. If a peasant like you tries to cross in, you'll easily twist your ankle. Today, we brothers will teach you what humility is."

Zhang Fugui chuckled, clenching his fists, his fat jiggling with each movement: "I've heard the people in your village are tough. I wonder how many punches your skinny frame can take?"

Lu Chuan stopped and looked at Li Ji.

"The concept of hierarchy is taught in the classics, not something that can be established by bullying others," Lu Chuan said calmly.

"Still being stubborn even when you're about to die!" Li Ji's face darkened with anger. He took a step forward, his right hand forming a claw, and aimed straight for Lu Chuan's collar.

Just as Li Ji's fingertips were about half an inch away from Lu Chuan's clothes, Lu Chuan moved.

Instead of dodging, he met the opponent's force head-on.

The step was extremely heavy, and the sole of the shoe scraped against the blue bricks with a harsh sound.

At the same time, Lu Chuan's right hand, hidden in his sleeve, slid out smoothly, his fingertips gripping the hardwood crossbar tightly. With a very small arc, he thrust it out from bottom to top, like a venomous snake emerging from its hole.

The hard top of the crossbar struck the soft tissue below Li Jixin's chest with perfect accuracy.

"Bang."

A low, muffled sound of flesh colliding.

Li Ji's arrogant expression froze instantly.

He felt an intense, dull pain shooting straight to his head, as if the air in his lungs had been squeezed out by the piece of wood in an instant.

He opened his mouth wide, but couldn't make a sound. He slumped down like a lump of mud, clutching his chest and retching violently. His face turned from flushed to deathly pale.

Lu Chuan didn't look at him again. He turned slightly to the side, his right hand supporting himself on the wooden stretcher, his gaze sweeping over the dumbfounded Zhang Fugui and Zhou Wencai.

"Next, are we prepared to contribute money or labor?"

Zhang Fugui trembled at Lu Chuan's murderous gaze and instinctively took a step back.

The folding fan that Wang Lang was holding, which he had been using to make a show of it, fell to the ground with a "thud".

They originally thought Lu Chuan was an easy target, but who would have thought that this young man was truly touching.

Lu Chuan tucked the piece of hardwood back into his sleeve. Without even glancing at Li Ji, who was rolling on the ground, he walked straight between the two of them.

"Li... Brother Li! Are you alright?" Zhang Fugui scrambled to Li Ji's side, his fat body trembling like a leaf.

At this moment, Li Ji was curled up like a boiled shrimp, his blue silk robe soaked with cold sweat.

His mouth was open, and a gurgling sound came from his throat. The pain was so fast and intense that he was deprived of even the strength to scream.

The wooden bar precisely penetrated the soft tissue, and although it did not damage the bone, it felt as if a bottle of mixed flavors had been overturned in his internal organs, with sour, bitter, spicy, and painful sensations all surging up at once.

"Quick... quick, help me... find the teacher..." Li Ji took a full quarter of an hour to utter these few broken words.

"We can't go to the teacher!" Wang Lang, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke up. Although his face was pale, his mind was not completely blank.

He bent down to pick up the folding fan that had fallen to the ground, his fingertips still trembling slightly. "Li Ji, have you thought this through? It was the three of us who blocked the way. The corridor was quiet, and no one else saw us."

"You're going to complain that Lu Chuan hit you? Look at how skinny he is, and then look at Zhang Fugui's muscular body, who do you think the teacher will believe?"

Wang Lang swallowed hard, a hint of lingering fear in his eyes: "Besides, that kid was incredibly vicious."

"He didn't use his fists, there are no bruises. If you take off your clothes now, you probably won't even see a mark."

"If we make a big fuss, he could just turn around and accuse us of ganging up on our classmates and breaking the school rules. Your uncle... I'm afraid it will be hard to explain."

Li Ji clutched his clothes tightly to his chest, his eyes so sinister they seemed to drip with water.

Wang Lang is right. He not only has to swallow this bitter pill, but he has to swallow it without making a sound.

"Lu...Chuan..." Li Ji gritted his teeth as he uttered the name, his eyes filled with hatred that was almost dripping with rage.

Back in the dormitory, Lu Chuan did not display any victorious demeanor.

He sat on his bunk, calmly unfastening the hidden pocket in his sleeve and taking out the piece of hardwood stretcher.

There was no blood on the wood, only a tiny white mark from the impact.

He picked up a piece of coarse cloth and carefully wiped away the fingerprints and sweat.

"It's still too slow," Lu Chuan muttered to himself.

To outsiders, that brilliant move was stunning enough, but in Lu Chuan's mind, it was just a barely passable risk hedge.

His body was too weak. If those two good-for-nothings behind Li Ji hadn't been scared out of their wits and had instead rushed at him, he probably would have lost his life in the corridor.