Tang Wulin barely slept all night.
In the blink of an eye, it was time for the class meeting.
The classroom door of Grade One Class Five swung open.
A tall, straight figure strode in, dressed in white as bright as snow, his blue hair cascading like a waterfall. His features were cold and stern, his bearing aloof. It was none other than Class Five's new homeroom teacher, Wu Changkong.
The hubbub in the classroom froze instantly.
Every student, male and female alike, had their gaze drawn to him as if by a magnet, fixed firmly on his face. Gasps of amazement rose one after another.
"Wow! He's so handsome!"
"Oh my god, this teacher is way too good-looking!"
"So cold, and so elegant!"
The girls' eyes filled with hearts, and they were so excited they nearly fainted.
The boys looked conflicted. Some were envious, some felt inferior, and some were unconvinced.
Just as everyone was caught up in the shock of that peerlessly handsome face,
another person walked in behind Wu Changkong.
He strolled in at an unhurried pace, his posture relaxed.
He was dressed in white too, but it had an entirely different charm on him.
Black hair and black eyes, features so strikingly handsome they were almost bewitching. A faint, elusive smile played at his lips, and his deep gaze seemed to hide endless starlight.
If Wu Changkong was the ice atop a snow-capped peak, unthawed for ten thousand years, sharp and bone-chilling,
then this boy was like the lazy sunshine of a spring afternoon, yet he carried a mysterious pull that made one's heart skip a beat.
The moment his face appeared in the doorway,
the whole classroom seemed to hit pause. Even the gasps of admiration from before caught in everyone's throats.
Then came screams ten times louder and a hundred times more frenzied than before!
"Ahhh!"
"Oh heavens! What am I looking at?!"
"Yao Chuan! It's Yao Chuan! The genius author Yao Chuan! Is he in our class too?"
"Am I dreaming? Yao Chuan looks ten thousand times better in person than in photos! Damn it, why am I in Class One? No way, I'm transferring to Class Five!"
The girls went completely wild.
One by one, they clutched their chests, faces flushed, too excited to speak coherently. They looked ready to pounce on him at any moment.
The boys collectively sucked in a breath, looking at that face, then at Wu Changkong. For the first time, they truly understood what it meant for there to be always someone better, and a higher sky beyond the sky.
The scene nearly spun out of control.
The director of studies, Long Hengxu, followed behind them, his eyelids twitching wildly at the sight.
He coughed hard twice, trying to restore order. "Quiet! Quiet! Sit down, all of you! What kind of behavior is this?"
But it barely helped.
The girls' gazes remained glued to Yao Chuan, impossible to tear away.
Even Wu Changkong's eternally unchanging, icy expression showed the faintest flicker of emotion.
He had always been indifferent to the adulation of others,
especially when it came from a bunch of brats.
But as someone with top-tier looks himself, suddenly discovering that he'd been outshone by a nine-year-old child...
It was a rather peculiar feeling.
He turned his head, his icy-blue eyes appraising Yao Chuan beside him as he looked him up and down.
His gaze was meaningful.
This "problem student" assigned to Class Five had already made an extremely deep impression on him.
Yao Chuan, however, seemed completely unaware of Wu Changkong's gaze.
He didn't even spare a glance at the frenzied stares around him, from people who looked ready to devour him whole.
His thoughtful gaze landed precisely on a seat near the back of the classroom.
Wei Xiaofeng was sitting there.
Yao Chuan frowned slightly.
It was mainly because quite a few Douluo fanfics he'd read in his previous life had included a plotline where this guy eventually fell into depravity and became an Evil Soul Master. Now he was a little confused, unable to tell whether it was really part of the canon plot or just something fanfic writers had made up.
He silently weighed it over.
Under Yao Chuan's focused gaze,
Wei Xiaofeng felt a chill down his back and grew uncomfortable all over.
He forced himself to keep up appearances, craned his neck, and shouted at Yao Chuan, "Hey! Su Wenjun! What are you staring at?!"
Yao Chuan came back to himself and raised an eyebrow.
He strolled over at an unhurried pace and stopped beside Wei Xiaofeng's desk.
Then, under Wei Xiaofeng's wary and faintly displeased gaze, he lifted a hand and gently patted him on the shoulder.
"Nothing."
Yao Chuan's tone was calm, revealing no emotion.
"Just thinking you don't look much like a good student."
He paused.
His obsidian-like eyes met Wei Xiaofeng's directly, and his tone suddenly took on a grave note of warning.
"Kid, remember what I'm telling you."
"These days..."
"You absolutely mustn't take the wrong path. One misstep, and you'll be doomed for eternity. Understand?"
Wei Xiaofeng was stunned by the pat, then left reeling by those words.
What did he mean?
Was he warning me?
What gave him the right to warn me?
Because he was a genius author and good-looking?
A nameless anger surged up inside Wei Xiaofeng.
He glared furiously at Yao Chuan, ready to retort at this pompous, self-important guy.
But before he could speak,
Wu Changkong rapped his knuckles against the desk at the front of the classroom.
His cold voice wasn't loud, but it seemed to carry shards of ice. It instantly drowned out all the whispers in the room.
"Silence."
"Introduce yourselves."
Wu Changkong's gaze swept across the room, carrying an unquestionable command.
"Name, Martial Soul, Soul Power Level. Begin."
One student after another went to the front.
Soon, it was Tang Wulin's turn.
He walked up to the lectern and spoke a little nervously. "Tang Wulin, Martial Soul: Blue Silver Grass, Soul Power: Level eleven..."
After introducing himself, he hesitated, then added, "As for my goal... I haven't decided yet."
His voice was quiet, touched by a hint of confusion that was hard to detect.
Down below, Wei Xiaofeng was already seething, with nowhere to vent the anger Yao Chuan had stirred up in him.
Yao Chuan had just warned him with that look of someone staring at a bad student, and he was still in a foul mood.
Now he heard Tang Wulin, with his "Trash Martial Soul," say he had "no goal."
It was like he'd found someone to take his anger out on.
He couldn't help letting out a sneer, muttering under his breath.
His voice wasn't loud, but it was just loud enough for those around him to hear.
"Pfft!"
"With a Trash Martial Soul, of course he doesn't have any goals."
"Just coasting along until he dies, I guess."
There was a note of mockery in his voice.
But the moment the words left his mouth—
"Whoosh—"
A faint sound of something cutting through the air rang out!
A white piece of chalk, like a precision-guided mini missile, shot down from the lectern with blinding speed!
It hit its mark!
It flew straight into Wei Xiaofeng's half-open mouth as he sneered!
"Ugh—! Cough!"
Caught completely off guard, Wei Xiaofeng had the chalk lodged in his throat.
He choked at once, his face turning red as stars danced before his eyes. Clutching his neck, he retched helplessly, a thoroughly miserable sight.
At the lectern, Wu Changkong lowered his hand, his eyes cold as a blade. His voice wasn't loud, but it rang clearly through the silent classroom, carrying a bone-chilling menace.
"In this world..."
"There are no useless Martial Souls! Only useless people!"
"When you call someone else useless... take a good look at yourself in the mirror first... and see what kind of person you are!"
"If you aren't useless... why did you end up being assigned to Class Five?!"
His words were cold.
Each one landed like a resounding slap across Wei Xiaofeng's face, and struck every student hard in the heart.
Clutching his throat, Wei Xiaofeng's face turned from red to green, then white. He stared at Wu Changkong on the lectern, shocked and furious.
But he didn't dare argue back. He could only swallow his frustration and anger.
Almost instinctively, he turned his resentful eyes on the "culprit" who'd gotten him hit with the chalk—Yao Chuan.
Just then,
it was Yao Chuan's turn to introduce himself.
Under the resentful gaze of the whole class, especially Wei Xiaofeng,
and the even more heated stares of the girls, as if they wanted to melt him,
Yao Chuan remained composed.
He walked up to the lectern at an easy pace.
His gaze swept casually across the room.
He didn't waste a word.
His voice was calm, clear as it reached every ear.
"Yao Chuan."
"Martial Soul... Black Dragon."
"Soul Power... Level thirty-one."
As those few simple words fell,
the entire classroom plunged into utter silence!
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