Dining Hall Encounter with Yu Xiaogang

"Then you?" Wang Sheng asked, rather puzzled.

"If you knew you couldn't beat me, why challenge me? Your reaction was really fast."

"If that strike had landed, I definitely would have been hurt."

Fang Ling shook his head. "I was just afraid of being bullied, so I wanted to show you my strength. I never intended to hurt anyone."

"I have my own things to do. I can't follow your orders."

Wang Sheng understood and replied loyally:

"Fine. For the sake of your courage, and because you didn't stab me in the end, I agree!"

Rubbing his aching stomach, he sighed. "Don't blame me either. Us work-study students are looked down on by the other students. Every work-study student will face this sooner or later."

"That's why we work-study students have to stick together."

"If you won't listen to me or acknowledge me as your boss, I don't care. But if someone else bullies you, don't expect me to stand up for you."

Fang Ling laughed. "Don't worry. Even if I get bullied, I won't need your help. I used to be a beggar—what hardship haven't I endured?"

"You used to be a beggar?" Wang Sheng's eyes widened.

"Bleurgh—!"

Just as he was about to say something, all that came out was a dry heave.

His eyes grew slightly moist.

He had been hit in the stomach without any warning. It had not been hard, but it had struck his stomach just right, making him feel nauseated from the pain.

After spitting out two more mouthfuls of acid, Wang Sheng rubbed the sore spot and suddenly felt a little hungry.

"You're hungry? I'll take you to eat, and show you around the academy while we're at it."

"Thank you." Fang Ling was very polite.

"No need to be so formal. We're all work-study students. If we don't stick together, we'll get beaten up."

Wang Sheng laughed heartily and slapped Fang Ling's thin shoulder with his broad, sturdy palm, nearly knocking him off balance.

Seeing this, he laughed. "I see you didn't bring any bedding. Do you not have money, or...?"

Wang Sheng helped Fang Ling steady himself. "I have money. I just haven't had time to buy any yet."

"I'll take you. I've been a work-study student for five years, and I've been all over the city. I know where the food is good and cheap, and where to buy cheap, practical bedding."

He spoke eagerly.

As soon as he finished speaking, a teacher in his thirties walked in from outside without a sound, like an NPC that had suddenly spawned.

"Which one is the new work-study student?"

"Teacher, I'm here." Fang Ling hurriedly waved.

The teacher glanced at Fang Ling's wooden prosthetic limb in surprise, his expression turning somewhat strange.

"My name is Mo Hen. I'm the teacher responsible for you work-study students."

"Your name is... huh?"

"Fang Ling," Fang Ling reminded him softly.

Mo Hen seemed not to hear him and still took out a sheet of paper to check. "Fang Ling, right?"

"Mm." Fang Ling nodded lightly.

"You first-year work-study students... cleaning, slacking off, expulsion... the opening ceremony..."

In short, like one of those leaders who only knew how to give vague speeches, he rambled on at length and explained a great many matters.

He talked until even he was sick of hearing himself, then finally stopped with a dry mouth.

"That's all I have to say. Wang Sheng can teach you the rest of the rules."

With that, he left.

Fang Ling was left standing there, quietly thinking.

Wang Sheng lightly patted his shoulder and called softly into his ear, "Hey, what are you thinking about?"

"Stop spacing out. It's your first day here, so I'm treating you to a meal!"

Fang Ling hesitated slightly, but Wang Sheng directly grabbed him and left.

The other work-study students hurriedly followed. Pushing, shoving, and fooling around, they made their way to the teaching building.

The cafeteria was there as well.

The cafeteria's location was rather strange—it was inside the teaching building.

They ate on the first floor. Perhaps because they had arrived early, they did not run into any other students looking to provoke them.

Even Fang Ling felt relieved.

In his current condition, he would probably just get beaten up. And since he could not kill anyone, it was better not to run into trouble.

A little patience was nothing.

He was a late-game hero. Once he had killed enough people, raised his level, and grown stronger, he would see who still dared bare their fangs at him.

Fang Ling got his food and sat down to eat.

Suddenly, he saw a medium-built, somewhat thin man passing by them.

He looked to be around forty or fifty.

His appearance was utterly ordinary, with short black hair parted seven to three.

The man carried a peculiar air about him. There was a trace of laziness and decadence in his eyes.

He walked with his hands clasped behind his back, as though he were trying to look impressive.

At a glance, he seemed to carry the weathered air of someone who had experienced much of life.

However, his eye-catching zombie-like face, huge mouth, and thick lips were far too conspicuous.

The way he walked with his hands behind his back looked like a clumsy imitation, carrying an inexplicable sense of comedy.

"Who's that?"

Fang Ling had a guess. He took a bite of rice and pointed with his chopsticks at the figure climbing to the second floor.

"Who?" Wang Sheng looked up, identified him after a moment, and spoke with a hint of mockery. "Oh, you mean the 'master'?"

"His name is Yu Xiaogang. He's just a freeloader living off his connection to the dean. His strength is nothing special, and he spends all day daydreaming. He's fifty years old and only level twenty-nine—he'll never break through to Soul Grandmaster in his life."

He looked at Fang Ling from the corner of his eye, chewing rice as he spoke without the slightest difficulty.

"What? Do you know him?"

So it really was Yu Xiaogang!

Anyone who could fall for such an ugly bastard with a zombie face and thick lips—this really was the Continent of Love.

Bibi Dong and Liu Erlong must have been blind.

Fang Ling sighed inwardly but did not say it aloud. "No. His back just seemed somewhat familiar."

Actually, I just thought he looked especially ridiculous. But I should probably refrain from insulting him openly.

Yu Xiaogang was ugly and incompetent, and Fang Ling looked down on him.

But he was Bibi Dong's beloved, the only holy ground in her eyes.

Fang Ling would need to ask her for help in the future, so he had to develop the habit of not speaking badly about Yu Xiaogang in public from now on.

Staying silent was enough.

Otherwise, some careless remark might find its way to Bibi Dong's ears someday.

It would be ridiculous if his highly promising and crucial trip to the City of Slaughter were ruined just because he had spoken badly about Yu Xiaogang.

He had backup plans, but without the City of Slaughter as a stepping stone, the time needed for him to advance would be greatly extended.

Besides, it was not as though he could not contend for a godhood.

The Killing System forced Fang Ling onto a path paved with mountains of corpses and seas of blood. Wasn't the pure killing godhood of the Asura God a perfect match?

Fang Ling filed the idea away. Seeing that the others were nearly done eating, he immediately sped up and began wolfing down his food.

After the meal, the wariness between them gradually began to fade.

They were all still young. After getting to know one another a little, Fang Ling smoothly became part of the group.

After the lengthy opening ceremony, he smoothly began his regular academy life.

He attended classes in the morning, went to the slaughterhouse to kill pigs in the afternoon, and swept the floors when he returned to earn a little extra money.

Every so often, he also brought Wang Sheng and the others some homemade braised meat.

At night, he meditated and cultivated according to the rudimentary methods taught in class.

Even though he could not sense even the slightest sign of his soul power increasing beyond the numbers displayed on the panel, he still enjoyed it and persisted every day.

Feeling the tiny trickle of soul power flow through his body gave him an indescribable sense of comfort.

This was cultivation!

Great power belonged to oneself!