First Position

Chapter 7: The Substitute Teacher

When Zhang Jinglin found himself speechless at Ren Xiaosu's answer, he had no idea that Ren Xiaosu was equally perplexed. Hadn’t he just shared everything he knew with the class? Why was the task still incomplete? Could it be that the knowledge he passed on was somehow flawed?

“Sir,” Ren Xiaosu said earnestly, “perhaps you haven’t seen how large the wolves outside truly are. Many people in town haven’t either, nor have they ever faced them. But I have. It's not just packs—facing a lone wolf alone is enough to justify picking out a burial plot.”

Ren Xiaosu had expected Zhang Jinglin to rebuke him for undermining his authority, but after a long silence, Zhang Jinglin said instead, “From now on, you may attend lessons inside the classroom. And you’ll teach survival class.”

For the first time, the school outside Refuge No. 113 welcomed a substitute teacher.

Still, Ren Xiaosu said nothing more during class. Since he had seen both lone wolves and entire packs, how exactly had he survived?

“Task completed. Strength +1.0.”

An entire day passed, yet Ren Xiaosu found no chance to use the foundational skill learning chart. He went to class because he enjoyed absorbing knowledge, but the lessons from Zhang Jinglin had little practical use for his immediate survival. Right now, that remained his top priority.

Since he hadn’t used the chart, there was no way to confirm whether the memories in his mind were real or just figments of his imagination. Still, he waited, believing another mission would surely come.

Now that he had completed another task and received a direct increase of 1.0 in strength—a tangible, quantifiable reward—he could truly feel the difference. Beneath his clothes, he could even see the subtle bulge of muscle starting to form. This was no illusion. No one could gain muscle mass in a tenth of a second unless something supernatural was at play.

And now, Ren Xiaosu was certain—that palace in his mind wasn’t an illusion. It was a real, extraordinary power.

A wave of euphoria washed over him. Truth be told, he should have been elated earlier, but he had feared it was all a lie.

A seasoned hunter must know his own body well—how much weight he can carry, how fast or how forcefully he can strike.

Ren Xiaosu immediately began to assess his new physical limits. If the average adult male scored a 3.0 in strength, then his previous self—at just 17—would have rated a 2.5. His survival wasn’t due to brute strength, but to ruthless decisiveness, vigilance, and composure.

Now, his strength had surpassed that of the average man. That meant his odds of surviving in the wasteland had just significantly improved.

On their way home, Yan Liuyuan beamed with excitement. “Brother, now that you’re a substitute teacher, maybe someday you’ll take Master Zhang’s place as our school’s teacher!”

Ren Xiaosu hesitated. “It might really turn out that way. Master Zhang started out as a substitute too. After the old teacher passed, he took over.”

“Exactly!” Yan Liuyuan grinned. “Everyone in town knows this—once someone becomes a substitute teacher, there’s a good chance they’ll become the real thing. Master Zhang not only let you attend class, but made you his assistant. He’s clearly preparing you to succeed him. If word of this spreads, folks around town might start treating us with a bit more respect.”

Ren Xiaosu thought for a moment. “I doubt it. He probably just ran out of cigarettes.”

“...” Yan Liuyuan glanced at him. “Are you being serious?”

“Well, becoming a teacher wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Ren Xiaosu mused. “If I do, I’ll pass the role on to you. That way, you’ll become the school’s master one day.”

Truthfully, Ren Xiaosu had never really considered taking up teaching. It wasn’t that he looked down on the profession—if he did, he wouldn’t have promised it to Yan Liuyuan. He just knew it wasn’t for him. If he never managed to enter the refuge walls, then the wilderness would remain his rightful home.

As he walked on, lost in thoughts of one day handing the school over to Yan Liuyuan, he failed to notice his brother falling behind. Yan Liuyuan stared at Ren Xiaosu’s back with an indescribable emotion. This boy, hands still bandaged from wounds, may speak with a sharp tongue, but he always tried to save the best for him.

When Ren Xiaosu turned and saw how far behind Yan Liuyuan had lagged, he called out irritably, “What are you doing? Keep up!”

“Coming!”

The chimneys of factories outside the refuge billowed with thick white smoke. The setting sun cast a golden glow over their backs, as if life had never known hardship.

…

On their way home, Ren Xiaosu and Yan Liuyuan suddenly saw a group emerging from the refuge gates—thirteen or fourteen people in total. Half were dressed in flamboyant, strange attire, while the other half wore military uniforms belonging to the private forces of Refuge 113. Clearly, they had armed escorts with them, which explained their boldness in heading toward Jing Mountain.

Guides didn’t need to be strong—just good at finding the way. Still, Ren Xiaosu didn’t think much of these so-called private military contractors. He’d rarely seen them in action. Who knew if they had any real combat experience—or had even seen blood?

A few of the mercenaries were smoking cigarettes—filtered ones, no less. These were rare in the town. The smoke carried a strange scent that reminded Ren Xiaosu of what Old Wang once said—factory cigarettes often contained addictive chemicals that induced euphoria.

He found it puzzling. Shouldn’t soldiers—people who needed sharp minds—avoid such things? He had seen addicts lose their sanity, and though these mercs smoked higher-end brands, it didn’t make them any safer.

A crowd gathered to gawk at the outsiders, whose clean faces starkly contrasted with the grime-covered townsfolk.

“Brother, do you think the water supply in the refuge is enough for people to wash their faces every day?” Yan Liuyuan blinked, his eyes sparkling.

“Don’t be jealous. The oil on our faces actually protects our skin…” Ren Xiaosu replied absentmindedly.

Just then, he noticed someone unusual among the group—a woman in a baseball cap, the brim pulled low, hiding her age. Her clothes were plain but well-fitted. She looked… normal.

Ren Xiaosu’s eyes lingered on her. Seeing her felt like spotting a predator in the wild—his instincts screamed that something was off about this group. He trusted his gut.

He and Yan Liuyuan kept their distance, watching as the group questioned Old Wang from the general store, the man who collected sparrows.

Old Wang’s booming voice echoed, “If you're heading to Jing Mountain, you’d better talk to that kid Ren Xiaosu. You won’t make it without him. There are wolves out there in the wild—I’d suggest not going to Jing Mountain at all.”

A mercenary scoffed. “Wolves scatter when they hear gunfire. What’s there to worry about?”

Ren Xiaosu blinked. So wolves feared gunshots? Maybe that was just animal instinct. He hadn’t seen firearms before, so he couldn’t be sure—but he had his doubts.

Another mercenary asked, “Who is this Ren Xiaosu? We don’t need someone with fighting skills, just someone who knows the route.”

“Oh, Ren Xiaosu’s the best hunter in town. Knows all the paths. He’s your guy, no doubt about it,” Old Wang said with a grin. “Just be warned—he’s a little crazy in the head…”

Hearing this, Ren Xiaosu turned on his heel and walked away, pulling Yan Liuyuan with him. “Old Wang’s son—isn’t he in your class? That chubby kid?”

Yan Liuyuan gasped, “Brother, don’t drag the man’s family into this…”

Ren Xiaosu frowned. He had wanted to stay far away from this mess. But Old Wang had just volunteered him for it. What was this—some kind of damned traveling circus?