Written as Little Brother, Read as Bootlicker

One dream dispelled a thousand worries.

When Yang Ming opened his eyes, he felt utterly refreshed after a good sleep. All the fatigue he had accumulated before had vanished without a trace.

"Boss, you're awake?"

Wang Sheng's voice came from nearby. Yang Ming propped himself up in bed and rubbed his sleepy eyes, only to see Wang Sheng holding a basin of hot water. The honest-looking boy had forced a fawning smile onto his face as he said enthusiastically:

"Boss, would you like to wash your face?"

Wang Sheng set down the basin and offered him a clean towel with both hands.

At that moment, Wang Sheng's expression was written as little brother, but read as bootlicker.

Yang Ming looked bewildered. He could not understand why Wang Sheng had changed so drastically. Where had his previous arrogance gone?

What Yang Ming did not know was that, while he had been asleep, Tang San had already danced around excitedly as he vividly recounted Yang Ming's battle with Cao Mengyun, embellishing it wildly along the way.

There was talk of riding alone for a thousand miles, attending a meeting single-handedly, declaring, "Yang Ming of Holy Soul Village is here!" Then he had supposedly fought Cao Mengyun for three hundred rounds, both sides unleashing remarkable moves in a battle that darkened the skies and shook the earth. In the end, Cao Mengyun had been just one move short and narrowly lost to Yang Ming, fleeing back to Spirit Hall in defeat.

When Tang San made up stories, something that could have been explained in a single sentence became an absolute flood of nonsense. He talked for over half an hour, but the story was captivating enough to leave these inexperienced little brats completely dumbfounded. One after another, they automatically became Yang Ming's little fans.

Although Yang Ming was full of doubts, since someone was there to serve him, he simply went along with it.

After washing his face, Yang Ming took a closer look. Among the little brats stood an exquisitely pretty little girl, like a budding red rose growing amid a patch of weeds. She was a startling sight.

The girl looked about six years old and was roughly the same height as Yang Ming. Her delicate face was rosy and fair, while her smooth skin resembled plump lychees, making one want to take a bite.

She wore plain but clean and tidy clothes. Her long black hair was braided into a scorpion braid that hung down her back, and her large, watery eyes seemed able to speak as they stared straight at Yang Ming.

"Hey, are you Yang Ming, the chivalrous hero whose lone shadow wandered over the cold river, who flew into a rage for a beauty and crossed the river in white, then fought Soul Grandmaster Cao Mengyun for three hundred rounds?"

The girl's crisp voice rang out, as pleasant as a singing oriole, drawing Yang Ming's attention.

But...

Listening to her words, Yang Ming felt that something was off.

What chivalrous hero?

What flying into a rage for a beauty?

Tang San silently hid among the crowd, turning his head to one side so Yang Ming would not notice him. He kept chanting in his heart:

He can't see me, he can't see me, he can't see me...

Sitting on the bed, Yang Ming folded his hands beneath his chin, narrowed his eyes, and chuckled.

"My name remains the same whether I walk or sit. I am indeed Yang Ming."

"My name is Xiao Wu. Wu as in dancing."

The little girl turned her feet inward and struck an opening stance. Brimming with fighting spirit, she said:

"I want to become the head of Dorm Seven. I've already defeated Tang San, and you're the only one I haven't beaten yet. Come fight me!"

Yang Ming smacked his lips, stretched lazily, and said in a sluggish tone:

"Sorry, I'm not interested."

He glanced at the eager Xiao Wu, crossed his arms behind his head, crossed one leg over the other, and said indifferently:

"If you want to be the head of Dorm Seven, then go ahead. It's not like I object."

In Yang Ming's eyes, fighting over the position of dorm head was meaningless.

He might as well sleep a little longer...

However, Yang Ming had clearly underestimated Xiao Wu's stubbornness. She stomped her little foot and huffed:

"No! If I don't fight you and defeat you, then what meaning is there in becoming the dorm head?"

"Oh." Yang Ming raised both hands and shrugged.

"Fine, I surrender. You win." As the saying went, a good man did not fight with women. Yang Ming could not be bothered to argue with Xiao Wu.

Besides, so what if Yang Ming defeated Xiao Wu?

As he spoke, Yang Ming ignored Xiao Wu, who was jumping in rage, and pulled Tang San out from where he had been hiding deep within the crowd.

Tang San thought Yang Ming had discovered that he had made up the story, and he felt quite uneasy.

But Tang San had overthought it. Yang Ming had not noticed at all. Throwing an arm around Tang San's shoulders, he said:

"Third Brother, come on. Let's go eat!"

Wang Sheng's ears twitched, and he hurried over with a jolt.

"Boss, you're going to eat?"

"Yeah. What's wrong?" Yang Ming asked in confusion.

Wang Sheng patted his chest so hard that it thumped loudly and said with great enthusiasm:

"Boss, how can I let you spend money? Your little brother will treat you later!"

"Fine, then."

Although Yang Ming did not understand what had happened while he was asleep, Wang Sheng did not seem like he had bad intentions, so Yang Ming let him make the arrangements.

The other children from Dorm Seven were naturally happy to go with Yang Ming as well, and they followed him out of the dormitory.

Watching Yang Ming's departing back, Xiao Wu pouted, stomped her foot resentfully, and said angrily:

"Stingy! Stingy! So stingy! It's just a fight, and he won't even agree to that!"

Although she complained indignantly, Xiao Wu's body was honest. She did not want to act differently and be isolated by everyone, so after stomping her foot, she still followed the others out.

The cafeteria was inside the teaching building, and they had to cross the entire field to reach it.

It was nearly evening, and classes had probably ended. There were quite a few people on the road: lightly dressed senior girls, tall senior boys, and teachers of every kind.

The cafeteria at Notting Junior Soul Master Academy was very large, enough to accommodate more than three hundred students and teachers from six classes.

The cafeteria had two floors. The hall on the first floor alone had three hundred seats, and many people were already lining up at the windows to get food.

Just as Wang Sheng led Yang Ming and the others over to join the queue, an unpleasant voice rang out.

"Well, if it isn't Wang Sheng and his bunch of poor ghosts?"

Yang Ming halted and looked toward the source of the voice. A group of upperclassmen stood on the stairs between the first and second floors, pointing at them.

The one who spoke was a senior student who looked decent enough, but nothing good came out of his mouth—only mockery and ridicule.

"Heh, bumpkins will always be bumpkins. You can only eat that trash food on the first floor. Don't ever dream of coming to the second floor for a meal."

Wang Sheng had already recognized the other party, and he was furious.

But his family was poor, and he truly could not afford the prices on the second floor. He could only press his lips tightly together as his shoulders trembled with anger.

Just as Wang Sheng felt that his life had gone dark, a large, warm hand landed on his shoulder. Yang Ming's voice was like dawn breaking through the darkness and shining into his heart.

"Isn't it just a meal on the second floor? Come on, I'll treat all of you!"

Wang Sheng thought Yang Ming was standing up for him. He was so moved that he could barely contain himself, choking out:

"Boss..."

The upperclassmen who had been heading for the second floor paused. They abruptly turned to look at Yang Ming and sneered:

"Putting on a brave face when you can't afford it. What a joke!"