Rebirth: Slice-of-life Cultivation Chapter 1699 - 926: Power Struggle

Class 8.

Standing beside the podium on the right, Yang Sheng declared: "Now let’s start the auction for Zhang Chi, everyone feel free to bid!"

Zhang Chi's face drained to a deathly pallor.

Having just lost the bet, he was thrust straight into an auction in the next instant, leaving him utterly unprepared.

Disliked by the entire class, poor Zhang Chi drew no bids even as Yang Sheng ran the auction.

Silence hung awkwardly for a moment.

Spotting this, Wang Longlong jumped in first, rolled up his book as a megaphone, and began hyping it up:

"Ahem, now we are holding the last auction of the day, next up, we have the most rebellious man in Class 8—Zhang Chi!"

"Do you want this rebellious guy to bow and scrape before you from now on?"

"If you do, then come on! Just 1 yuan, only 1 yuan!"

Thinking of the repulsive Zhang Chi, Pang Jiao yelled: "3 yuan 8, I bid 3 yuan 8!"

Wang Yan Yan: "Oh dear Jiaojiao, why did you bid that number?"

Pang Jiao: "Hoh hoh hoh, because he’s a 38, a turtle!"

Zhang Chi shot her a furious glare, his savage stare like a hammer poised to crush her.

Zhang Yifei clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes flashing: "38 is way better than him!"

Zhang Chi exploded in rage: "Who the hell are you talking about?"

Defending her buddy, Pang Jiao flashed a grin like a mangy sunflower: "Whoever the 38 is, we’re talking about them!"

Zhang Chi jabbed a finger at her: "Say that again?"

Her meaty lips buzzed like they had a motor inside, chanting nonstop: "Thirty-eight, thirty-eight, thirty-eight..."

Zhang Chi erupted in fury, snatched the textbook from the desk, and chucked it hard at Pang Jiao: "Shut up!"

Propelled with massive force, the book sailed through the air and smacked right into Song Sheng’s pudgy face.

Song Sheng, only there to enjoy the show, stood totally dazed.

He wondered to himself, I didn’t mess with anybody!

In the classroom’s southwest corner, Wu Xiaoqi clutched his basketball, haunted by old traumas: "It’s happening, the demon’s curse!"

Once Song Sheng figured it out, he shot to his feet in anger: "Zhang Chi, are you asking for death, damn it?"

After surviving Pang Jiao’s verbal assaults, Song Sheng had toughened up considerably!

Under Song Sheng’s glare, Zhang Chi’s face twisted through expressions; rationally, the mess was his doing.

Pang Jiao howled with laughter, sounding almost bovine: "Didn’t you tell me to shut up? You worthless thing!"

Zhang Chi froze for a second, brushed off Song Sheng, and pointed straight at Pang Jiao: "I’ll warn you once!"

"5 yuan, I bid five yuan!" Cui Yu piped up.

The auction got back on track; unsurprisingly, Zhang Chi’s price paled beside Gong Jin’s, closing at just 7 yuan.

Wang Longlong’s final call wrapped up the auction.

Gong Jin, who’d watched indignantly at first, now oddly felt a touch of relief.

His own worth remained intact, at least.

Class monitor Xin Youling watched the mayhem subside, irritation sparking in her sunken eyes—her hold on Class 8 felt shaky, with some kids sparking chaos whenever they pleased.

With that thought, Xin Youling lifted a stool and approached her personal domain—the podium—to watch over the class.

She’d scarcely settled in when Yu Wen, Zhang Chi’s new owner, kicked off more nonsense.

Yu Wen fiddled with her golden bracelet, ordering arrogantly: "Zhang Chi, the battery in the blackboard clock’s dead—head to the cafeteria store and grab two to replace it!"

Zhang Chi blurted out instinctively: "Why should I?"

Right Protector Yang Sheng coughed to clear his throat.

Zhang Chi instantly knew his place and hollered: "Now it’s dark and cold, count buying the batteries as two days of my duties!"

Yu Wen: "One day, take it or leave it!"

Zhang Chi clenched his teeth and bore it—buying batteries beat duty shifts or lugging water from the station, anyway.

He rose from his seat, grabbed the battery cash from Yu Wen’s grasp, and strode toward the classroom’s back door.

As he neared the exit, Xin Youling stirred at the podium, took a tea sip, and remarked:

"Leaving like this, what if you’re seen by a checking school leader on the way? Don’t go."

Zhang Chi stopped dead in his tracks.

Regaining composure, he turned to Yu Wen, awaiting an answer from his so-called master.

Yu Wen hesitated; rowdy class fun was one thing, but Director Yan catching wind could spell serious trouble, even demerits.

Unable to decide, Yu Wen consulted the Right Protector: "Yang Sheng, what do you think?"

Zhang Chi and Yu Wen awaited Yang Sheng's response, a tense silence blanketing the room.

Seated loftily on the podium, Xin Youling's heart quaked with rage—she had explicitly ordered him to stop, but he brazenly defied her!

Her authority now confronted a formidable test.

Yang Sheng, reading the room, responded: "Since the monitor said so, then don’t go."

"Alright then." Zhang Chi had no recourse; burdened by a school infraction, he refused to court more danger.

Silence descended once more upon the classroom, while a fierce storm churned inside Xin Youling.

She felt deep alarm: ’Yang Sheng has already enslaved many classmates, and those classmates all listen to her, independent of the entire Class 8.’

’If I don’t resolve this, today’s cause will bear fruit tomorrow!’

In that instant... a nightmarish image surged into her thoughts: Yang Sheng atop the podium, insincerely exclaiming, ’Oh my! How did everyone unanimously elect me as the class monitor, it’s really troubling me!’

’I can’t let this continue!’ Xin Youling rapidly devised a countermeasure; she had to begin rallying hearts to her side.

Compared to brutal crackdowns, gentle appeasement often captures loyalty far more effectively.

After evening self-study let out, Zhang Chi remained one of the duty slaves.

Xin Youling stood in the outside hallway, staring at the city's myriad twinkling lights, buffeted by the biting night wind.