Did the Dragon Queen Get Cut? Gu Yue's Widowhood Crisis

"I know a hospital that specializes in neutering; it's top-tier, and I guarantee it's painless."

Lin An's tone suddenly turned warm and enthusiastic.

"You have decent potential. If you're willing to do it, I can even pay you an endorsement fee."

Tang Wulin and Xie Xie were completely stunned.

They stared at Lin An's delicate, saintly face, their minds buzzing.

Had the Federation capital... really become this competitive?

"No, no, no, no, no..."

Tang Wulin finally found his voice.

He waved his hands repeatedly, his face turning bright red.

"No need, really no need! My parents would beat me to death if they found out!"

He was even stuttering.

Lin An glanced at him and sighed.

That sigh carried a hint of genuine regret.

He truly felt it was a pity.

Just thinking about the future Dragon Emperor Douluo getting neutered at his family's hospital—wouldn't that sign be ten thousand times better than any celebrity endorsement?

Besides, the way this kid was looking at him was all wrong.

It was just a handshake, wasn't it?

What the hell are you blushing for, kid!

Recalling the description of the "Wife of the Dragon God" entry, Lin An felt it would be safer if Tang Wulin just got snipped.

Tang Wulin suddenly felt a chill in his crotch.

He instinctively clamped his legs together.

The romantic notions in his heart vanished, leaving behind only a pale sense of dread.

Gu Yue walked at the very back, not saying a word from start to finish.

She only worried about one thing in her heart—

Had the Dragon Empress actually been snipped?

He couldn't have really been neutered, could he?

That simply wouldn't do!

This King does not wish to live as a widow.

Time passed quickly.

After shopping and eating, the four of them finally arrived at the gates of East Sea Academy.

The sun was setting in the west.

Tang Wulin snuck a glance at Lin An's profile.

His heart was pounding like a trapped rabbit.

He's so good-looking...

I really want to add him as a friend.

He picked up his communicator, hesitated for a long time, and then put it back down.

His fingers gripped the edge of the device so hard his knuckles turned white.

Xie Xie stood to the side, winking and gesturing.

He nudged his chin toward Lin An and mouthed silently: "Hurry up, you go first."

Tang Wulin's face turned red again.

He glared at Xie Xie, but he didn't dare to actually speak up.

Gu Yue witnessed the entire awkward display between the two of them.

A cold sneer slowly curled the corners of her lips.

Then, she walked straight up to them.

Before Lin An could react, she snatched the communicator from his hand.

Lin An was stunned for a moment.

Gu Yue had already skillfully unlocked the communicator, entered her own soul-guide contact number, added herself as a friend, and shoved the device back into Lin An's hand.

The entire sequence of movements was smooth, fluid, and completed in one go.

"Contact me tonight."

Her expression was pulled tight.

Her face was slightly flushed, her lips pressed into a thin line; she looked incredibly nervous.

"I..."

Seeing this, Tang Wulin finally gathered the courage to speak.

"You what?"

Gu Yue whipped her head around.

Her silver eyes glared coldly, her voice so frigid it could shed ice shards.

"Just adding me is enough, I'll say whatever needs to be said!"

Tang Wulin shivered under her glare.

The words at the tip of his tongue were swallowed back down.

"Oh..."

He lowered his head, feeling somewhat dejected.

Yet, the corners of his mouth curled up involuntarily, revealing a silly grin.

He wondered which class Lin An would be assigned to.

Would they still be able to see each other often?

After parting ways with the others, Lin An went to the academic affairs office alone.

On the way, his communicator vibrated seven or eight times.

He glanced down—they were all calls from Gu Yue.

Lin An remained expressionless, swiping his thumb to end the call.

Then it vibrated again, and he ended it again.

After repeating this a few times, he simply set it to silent.

A string of messages popped up in the messaging app, red notification dots piling up on top of each other.

He didn't open a single one.

The East Sea Academy's academic affairs office was much shabbier than he had imagined.

There were several rows of old solid-wood desks, the paint peeling at the corners.

When Lin An pushed the door open and entered, two people were already sitting inside.

One man leaned against the window, dressed in white like snow, his figure tall and slender.

His face could be called handsome, but a layer of unmelting coldness was frozen between his brows.

Wu Zhangkong.

Lin An swept his eyes over him, and three words hovered above the man's head—[Frost Sword Heart].

There was no level indicator, which meant this entry was a fixed talent that could not be upgraded.

It saved trouble, but it also meant his ceiling was locked.

The other person sat behind a desk; he was in his forties, slightly plump, with a standard administrative smile plastered on his face.

Dean Long Hengxu had a mediocre entry above his head that Lin An couldn't even be bothered to look at closely.

"Student Lin An, please sit."

Long Hengxu stood up to pour a glass of water.

His smile was excessively amiable.

He pulled out a chair, pushed the water glass to the edge of the desk, and placed a paper napkin underneath it.

The sequence of actions was smooth and fluid, as attentive as a hotel lobby manager.

Lin An sat down, his back straight, his expression calm.

Wu Zhangkong did not sit.

He looked down at Lin An from his height.

"Lin An." He spoke, his voice cold and clear.

"Full marks in every subject, designing a One-Word Battle Armor all by yourself at such a young age—"

He paused, his smile growing colder.

"Why would a genius like you choose East Sea Academy?"

He enunciated the words "designing a One-Word Battle Armor all by yourself" with extra force, the sarcasm in his tone barely concealed.

A ten-year-old child, designing a One-Word Battle Armor?

A battle armor that could theoretically allow a five-ring Soul King to rival a seven-ring Soul Saint.

Did those people in the Federation not even bother to draft their tall tales before telling them?

Wu Zhangkong sneered inwardly.

He recalled the phone call from a few days ago.

He hadn't saved that number for many years, but he recognized it at a single glance—it belonged to his mentor.

The man he had once respected, and who had later disappointed him to the core.

On the phone, his mentor's voice had sounded much older, yet his tone remained as unquestionable as ever: he was to look after a new student, or at the very least, absolutely avoid provoking him.

Avoid provoking him.

Those four words felt like a thorn pricking into Wu Zhangkong's heart.

He had never heard his mentor speak in such a tone before.

It wasn't an order, nor a reprimand, but carried a certain veiled warning.

But regardless of what background someone had, if they tried to pull strings in front of him, Wu Zhangkong, they shouldn't expect a pleasant look.

"Ahem—"

Long Hengxu coughed heavily and glared fiercely at Wu Zhangkong.

He knew Wu Zhangkong's temper.

Due to his early experiences, this man was filled with profound distrust and anger toward the Federation.

He despised those "connected" individuals who relied on nepotism to the very marrow of his bones.

But the kid in front of them was no ordinary case of nepotism.

Long Hengxu recalled the phone calls he had received.

From the East Sea City Education Bureau to the Federal Central Education Bureau.

From the Universal Group Legal Department to the Shrek Academy Outreach Office.

Any one of those entities was a force that a mere Dean of Students like him could not afford to offend.

Not to mention that the Universal Group had already dropped a hint.

Their subsequent investment intentions for East Sea Academy depended entirely on Lin An's "enrollment experience" here.

This wasn't a new student enrolling.

This was the God of Wealth descending to earth.

Long Hengxu offered an apologetic smile, glancing at Wu Zhangkong from the corner of his eye, praying frantically in his heart: Ancestor, please, for the love of everything, just shut your mouth.