There are no trash spirit roots, only trash spirit masters

On the tree-shaded path.

Tang San's knee was mere centimeters from the ground, on the verge of completing this fate-altering kneel and formally becoming the Grandmaster's disciple.

Suddenly.

A foot clad in a brand-new black tactical boot landed precisely, unerringly, right in the path of Tang San's descending knee.

"Hold it."

A voice filled with respect, yet brooking no argument, rang out.

Tang San froze and looked up to see Boss Su, who had just been throwing money around and spouting nonsense on the second floor of the cafeteria, now standing before them.

But Su Yun's demeanor had completely transformed.

He had taken off those somewhat flashy sunglasses and hung them on the tactical vest over his chest.

The arrogance, laziness, and mercenary air on his face had all vanished.

In their place was a look of eager thirst for knowledge, humility, and courtesy—like a fresh graduate meeting an industry titan, the very picture of a model student.

Su Yun ignored Tang San's bewildered stare and instead bowed deeply at a perfect ninety-degree angle to the middle-aged man in shabby cloth clothes.

His movements were so precise that it looked like a little mustache might sprout from his philtrum.

"Sir, please wait a moment! This junior presumes to interrupt!"

Yu Xiaogang had been immersed in the immense thrill of about to accept a genius disciple with Twin Martial Souls. Suddenly interrupted, a surge of displeasure rose in his heart.

He furrowed his brow slightly, turned around, and with the air of a master disturbed from his contemplation, coldly scrutinized this uninvited guest:

"Who are you? Why are you interrupting us?"

The Grandmaster's voice was hard and cold, struggling to maintain that "I'm strong, but I keep a low profile" persona.

"This junior is Su Yun, also a new student this year."

Su Yun straightened up, his eyes shining with just the right amount of fervent admiration:

"Sir, I've long admired your reputation!"

Though Su Yun didn't even know his name, that didn't stop him from having long admired it.

"Sir, I was eating on the second floor of the cafeteria just now, and I happened to glance down. I was immediately captivated by your aura."

"In this Notting College, everyone coming and going is either a crude work-study student or a frivolous rich kid. But you alone..."

Hearing this, Wang Sheng, who had been watching the show on the sidelines, blinked. How did I get dragged into this?

Su Yun paused, his eyes revealing a look of reverent awe:

"The moment you clasped your hands behind your back and gazed up at the sky, that sense of loneliness—pure in a world of filth—that melancholy of having a mind full of knowledge with no one to understand it... It was like a firefly in the dark night, so vivid, so outstanding!"

"Anyone who saw you would know at once: you must be a great scholar hiding in the city!"

This spiel was actually a universal formula Su Yun had used in his past life when running sales.

Dealing with this kind of middle-aged man—shabbily dressed but arrogant in demeanor—even if he were a night-soil collector, as long as you praised him for being unrecognized talent, it would hit the mark every time.

Sure enough.

Yu Xiaogang's originally stiff and cold expression visibly softened.

Even the tightly pursed corners of his mouth couldn't help but twitch upward.

This kid...

Has such sharp eyes?!

How many years had it been? Ever since he was driven out of his family, unable to break through level thirty due to his mutated Martial Soul, he had suffered nothing but scorn and ridicule from the world.

Everyone called him a waste, mocked his theories as madness.

Today, finally, someone understood him!

And judging by this child's demeanor, he was clearly no ordinary person—this was a true kindred spirit!

Yu Xiaogang puffed out his chest, still keeping his hands clasped behind his back, and tilted his chin up at a forty-five-degree angle toward the sky, saying flatly:

"Just some minor theoretical deductions. Anyone could do it with a few more books and a bit more thought. Nothing worth mentioning."

"Sir, you're too modest!"

Su Yun immediately stepped forward, turning his acting up to full, his tone growing even more fervent:

"The elders in my hometown always taught me that truth often lies in the hands of the few! Your humility only makes this junior admire you even more!"

Through his earpiece came the real-time feedback from the psychological profiler back on Earth:

"Report! Micro-expression analysis of the target: corner of the mouth muscles are strenuously suppressing an upward twitch, pupils dilated, dopamine secretion surging! His vanity has been greatly satisfied! His defensive psychology is collapsing like an avalanche!"

Seeing that the timing was right, Su Yun immediately made a gesture of invitation, his posture utterly humble:

"Sir, this place has too many eyes and ears, hardly a good spot to receive your teachings. This junior has prepared a modest meal on the second floor of the cafeteria—just simple fare, but the setting is relatively quiet."

"I wonder if this junior might have the honor of inviting you upstairs? We can talk over a meal and conduct an in-depth... academic seminar on those profound theories you hold?"

Tang San, watching from the side, was utterly dumbfounded.

This Su Yun—wasn't he just throwing money around in the dormitory earlier? How had he become so refined all of a sudden?

An academic seminar?

What was that?

We haven't even attended a single class yet—what are you planning to discuss?

"This..." Yu Xiaogang hesitated, as if weighing the aloofness befitting a master.

"Sir, Tang San is my roommate. I saw him just now wanting to perform the disciple's salute to you—he must have been convinced by your knowledge. Since we're all seekers of understanding, why not sit down and talk in detail?"

Su Yun seized the moment to drive the point home.

"Very well."

Yu Xiaogang took a deep breath, nodded, and forced his voice to sound reluctant:

"Since you have this thirst for knowledge, I'll make an exception. As it happens, I have some core theories on martial souls that I can impart to you."

Ten minutes later. On the second floor of the cafeteria, by the long table.

Yu Xiaogang sat upright in the main seat, his back ramrod straight, with a set of high-end tea utensils that Su Yun had specially ordered placed before him.

He glanced around.

To his left was Tang San, the gifted young genius, hungry for knowledge.

To his right was Su Yun, notebook in hand, face full of admiration.

On the periphery were dozens of work-study students, clutching chicken legs, eyes wide, holding their breath.

Where was the cafeteria?

This was clearly Yu Xiaogang's long-dreamed-of academic lectern!

"Ahem."

Yu Xiaogang set down his teacup, swept his gaze across the room, and slowly raised one finger.

"My theoretical system is vast and profound, called the 'Ten Core Competencies of Martial Soul.' Since time is limited, I'll pick a few of the most essential to share with you."

"First, the foundation of all theories."

Yu Xiaogang took a deep breath, enunciated clearly, and dropped the line destined to be recorded in history:

"There are no worthless martial souls, only worthless soul masters!"

As soon as the words fell.

"Wow—!!!"

The group of work-study students around him let out a perfectly synchronized gasp of amazement.

Wang Sheng was so excited he crushed the chicken bone in his hand, shouting with oil dripping from his mouth:

"So... so true! So all along, the reason I couldn't train well wasn't because my martial soul was weak, but because I wasn't working hard enough!"