Chapter 82: Leading the Fashion!

From Li Qingcheng, Qin Luo learned an important lesson in life: if someone makes you unhappy, you might as well make them truly heartbroken.

"Xiao Qin, are you really the heir to the Taiyi Divine Needle?" Teacher Zhu could no longer care about the past grudges with Qin Luo and took the initiative to ask.

He even tried his best to squeeze out a smile, though he was so miserly that the smile was barely perceptible unless one looked closely.

"No," Qin Luo shook his head.

It was as if a heavy stone dropped in Teacher Zhu's heart, and even that faint smile vanished from his face.

"Exactly. I knew it couldn't be true. Xiao Min, where did you get this newspaper from? Was it made up by the students? Such nonsense." Teacher Zhu said with a darkened face.

Qin Luo smiled and said, "I am indeed not the heir to the Taiyi Divine Needle. The media got it wrong. Because, in this world, only I know this acupuncture technique. No one taught me, so I am not anyone’s heir."

"You—"

"Teacher Qin, can you give me your autograph? I want to show it off to my classmates. It's unbelievable! I actually work in the same office as the heir of the Taiyi Divine Needle." Xiao Min really brought over a notebook for Qin Luo to sign.

After Qin Luo wrote his name in a bold, flowing hand, the young woman squealed in excitement.

"Xiao Min, what do you think you're doing, shouting in the office? Have you no sense of decorum as a teacher? So what if he's that so-called heir? There are plenty of people selling quack remedies these days. And those journalists have no sense of responsibility, writing whatever they please without fact-checking. They'll mislead the readers," Teacher Zhu, not daring to confront Qin Luo directly, could only turn his scolding on Xiao Min.

"Teacher Zhu, you don't understand. The Taiyi Divine Needle is amazing. I read about it before; they say it uses qi to guide the needles. It's really miraculous."

"I don’t understand? How could I not understand? I—"

Teacher Zhu wanted to say more, but the bell for class suddenly rang.

Qin Luo nodded at Xiao Min, took his textbook, and walked toward the classroom.

On the way, Qin Luo suddenly noticed that more and more people were glancing his way. Students even came up to greet him.

"Hello, Teacher Qin!"

"Teacher Qin, your outfit looks really sharp today!"

"Teacher Qin, can I have your autograph?"

"Teacher Qin, you have something in your eye."

——

Qin Luo realized that yesterday’s interview must have been published. The students were incredibly well-informed, so it was no wonder they were suddenly paying so much attention to him.

When Qin Luo entered the classroom, he was startled by the scene before him.

A classroom originally with only eighty or so single desks was now packed with no less than two hundred people. Some students had even brought their own chairs, and many stood at the back because there weren't enough seats.

As soon as Qin Luo walked in, the previously noisy classroom fell instantly silent. This hush lasted two or three seconds before the room erupted again like a pot of boiling oil.

What made Qin Luo both amused and exasperated was that he saw several male students imitating him, wearing long robes.

White, black, blue; long, short, loose, tight— even Li Xiong, with his rough features, had donned a deep blue robe, which looked utterly out of place on him.

When some people wore long robes, they appeared cultured and elegant; these fellows, however, looked more like hoodlums than gentlemen.

It's all about bearing—do you understand?

To wear a long robe requires a certain temperament. This group of scholarly bumpkins just didn’t get it.

Qin Luo tapped the desk with the chalkboard eraser to signal for silence and said, "I suppose you all have a lot of questions for me, don’t you?"

"Yes!" everyone shouted in unison, delighted by Qin Luo’s understanding.

"I’ll give you five minutes. Then we start the lesson," Qin Luo said, taking out his phone to check the time before placing it on the lectern.

"Teacher Qin, are you really the heir to the Taiyi Divine Needle?"

"Yes."

"Teacher Qin, is your group like a sect? Like Shaolin or Wudang in martial arts novels?"

"It’s a school, a medical tradition."

"Teacher Qin, do you know kung fu?"

Qin Luo didn’t even have to answer; his students eagerly replied for him.

"Of course Teacher Qin knows kung fu!"

"He’s really skilled. We’ve all seen it. Super cool!"

"Teacher Qin fought off several thugs single-handedly and didn’t get hurt at all."

Many students had witnessed the KTV scuffle firsthand, seeing Qin Luo’s prowess.

In Qin Luo’s eyes, his abilities were nothing special—just a little practice in self-defense and, more importantly, his skill at striking acupoints. But to these students, it was extraordinary.

"Teacher Qin, can you teach us the Taiyi Divine Needle?"

"I can. I’d be happy to teach you. But it’s truly difficult to learn," Qin Luo replied with a smile.

If fate allowed, he genuinely wanted to find a few successors.

"Teacher Qin, I like you!"

"I like you all, too."

"Really? Then I want to marry you. You said you wanted to marry a Chinese girl, right? I'm a real, authentic Chinese girl. I can even show you my ID!"

——

Seeing Qin Luo’s embarrassment, the class burst into laughter.

"Teacher Qin, where did you buy your clothes? What brand?"

"Teacher Qin, what do you do in your free time?"

"Teacher Qin, do you play games? Do you play DOTA?"

——

The students’ questions grew increasingly detailed, as if they wanted to know everything about him. They treated him like a celebrity.

When the class ended, Qin Luo felt exhausted.

He originally had only fifty students—after Ma Xu left, just forty-nine. All of them had a solid foundation in traditional Chinese medicine, so teaching wasn’t difficult.

But as more and more students came to audit his classes, his workload grew. The less they knew, the more they asked, and every question took time to answer. If each person asked just one question, he’d be answering dozens, even hundreds, every class.

Qin Luo thought the school should really double his salary.

What he didn’t know was that the sheer number of students auditing his classes had drawn the resentment of some Western medicine professors.

In the past, traditional Chinese medicine students would flock to Western medicine classes, believing TCM was useless and that it was hard to find a job after graduation.

But now the situation had reversed, naturally irking some of the proud Western medicine teachers.

A teacher in the Western Medicine Faculty named Wang Zihao had publicly expressed his discontent with Qin Luo and even said in class that he’d like to challenge him in medical skills if given the chance.

Just as Qin Luo was heading back to the office for a drink of water, Wang Jiujie caught up to him from behind.

She wore light blue jeans, a T-shirt with cartoon prints, and a red hooded jacket.

She had a pair of Tibetan-style silver earrings, no makeup, and her beauty was natural and radiant.

Anyone seeing this girl would assume she was just an exceptionally pretty girl next door, never guessing her astonishing family background.

"Teacher Qin, you must be thirsty," Wang Jiujie said with a cheeky smile.

"Yes, I was just heading back to the office for some water," Qin Luo replied, smiling.

Wang Jiujie quickly slipped off her shoulder bag, unzipped it, and took out a glass with a cartoon print. "I know you like tea. I made this especially for you—my dad’s top-grade Dragon Well tea. Give it a try!"

As she spoke, she handed the cup to Qin Luo.

Since Wang Jiujie always sat in the front row, Qin Luo knew well that this glass, with its cartoon zebra, was actually her own water cup.

Sometimes, seeing her rosy lips on the straw, Qin Luo would find himself a little thirsty—

"This isn't really appropriate," Qin Luo hesitated.

"What’s wrong with it? I made it just for you. I don’t really like tea anyway," Wang Jiujie said earnestly.

With no way to refuse, Qin Luo didn’t use the straw she’d used, but instead unscrewed the lid and drank from the rim.

"It really is good tea," he praised. Even in such a glass, the tea retained all its charm.

"Really? Then I’ll bring you a cup every day for class from now on," Wang Jiujie said happily.

"No need to trouble yourself."

"It’s no trouble. I need to drink water anyway."

"Well—"

"Teacher Qin, you don’t need to be so polite. Aren’t we friends? Bringing you some water is only natural." When a woman pursues a man, the gap is as thin as paper; when a man pursues a woman, it’s as far as a mountain.

If a woman is after a man, until she says "I love you," you’ll never really know her true feelings.

She can advance or retreat, always on safe ground.

For example, now, by using "friend" as a cover, Wang Jiujie left Qin Luo with nothing to say.

How many men could refuse a woman’s request to "just be friends"?

"Then thank you," Qin Luo could only accept the kindness.

"You’re welcome," Wang Jiujie replied sweetly. "Oh, and Teacher Qin, I read your interview in the paper. What others forget, we will remember. What others abandon, we will pick up. I don’t care if people think we’re weird or laugh at us. That’s what you said. I was so moved when I read those lines."

"I spoke from the heart," Qin Luo said, his expression solemn.

"Yes. It really fits our situation. I hope your words will wake some people up."

"Let’s hope so. But it’s not easy."

No matter how much she tried to hide it, when Wang Jiujie looked into Qin Luo’s eyes, she still felt a little shy. "Oh, Teacher Qin, tonight—"

At that moment, Qin Luo's phone began to vibrate violently in his pocket.

"Hold on, let me take this call. Sorry," Qin Luo said apologetically, fishing out his phone.

Seeing the caller ID was Lin Qingyuan, Qin Luo answered without hesitation.

"Grandpa Lin, is something the matter?" Qin Luo asked. He knew Lin Qingyuan would never call at this time unless it was important.

"Qin Luo, are you at school?"

"Yes, I just finished class."

"I’m at your school gate. Can you come out? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you."

"Of course, I’ll be right there," Qin Luo replied.

He hung up, gave Wang Jiujie an apologetic smile, and said, "Sorry, I have something to take care of. Can we talk tomorrow?"

"Alright, go ahead," Wang Jiujie replied with a smile.

Only when Qin Luo hurried away did Wang Jiujie sigh softly in his direction.

"Tomorrow… will be too late."