Little Bro in Writing, Bootlicker in Practice

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 been swept away.

"Boss, you're awake?"

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

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

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

At this moment, Wang Sheng's expression was written as little bro, 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 about with excitement as he vividly recounted, with plenty of embellishment, Yang Ming's battle with Cao Mengyun.

There was the lone rider traveling a thousand miles, the single blade attending a meeting, the cry of "Yang Ming of Holy Soul Village is here!" Then came three hundred rounds of battle against Cao Mengyun, with both sides unleashing bizarre techniques and fighting until heaven and earth darkened. In the end, Cao Mengyun had been one move short and narrowly lost to Yang Ming, retreating in defeat to Spirit Hall.

When Tang San made up stories, something that could have been said in a single sentence became an absolute flood of nonsense. He went on for over half an hour, yet the story was so captivating that he had these ignorant little brats completely fooled, each of them becoming one of Yang Ming's little fans.

Though he was full of doubts, Yang Ming simply went with the flow since someone was waiting on him.

After washing his face, Yang Ming took a closer look. Among the group of little brats stood an exquisitely adorable little girl, like a budding red rose growing amid a patch of weeds, making his eyes light up.

The little girl was around six years old and about the same height as Yang Ming. Her delicate face was rosy and fair, while her smooth skin resembled a plump lychee, making one feel the urge to take a bite.

She wore plain but neat clothing. 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 that heroic wanderer in the cold river's lone shadow, the Yang Ming who flew into a rage for a beauty, crossed the river in white, and fought Great Spirit Master 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 heroic wanderer?

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 as he chanted inwardly:

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

Sitting on the bed, Yang Ming clasped his hands beneath his chin and narrowed his eyes with a faint chuckle.

"My name remains unchanged 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 with both hands. Brimming with fighting spirit, she said:

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

Yang Ming smacked his lips and stretched lazily, saying in a languid tone:

"Sorry, I'm not interested."

He glanced at the eager Xiao Wu, then folded 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 view, it was only the position of dorm head. There was no point fighting over it.

He might as well sleep a little longer...

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

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

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

"Fine, then 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, what would it matter if Yang Ming defeated Xiao Wu?

As he spoke, Yang Ming ignored the furious Xiao Wu and fished 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 eat!"

Wang Sheng's ears twitched, and he hurried over with a quick little jog.

"Boss, you're going to eat?"

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

Wang Sheng patted his chest with loud thumps and said enthusiastically:

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

"Alright, then."

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

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

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

"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 more honest. Not wanting to be treated as special and isolated by everyone, she stomped her foot again before following the group outside.

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

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

The cafeteria at Notting Junior Soul Master Academy was huge, large enough to accommodate more than three hundred people from six classes along with their teachers.

The cafeteria had two floors. The first-floor hall alone had three hundred seats, and quite a few people were already lining up at the counters for food.

Just as Wang Sheng led Yang Ming and the others toward 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 older students stood on the stairs between the first and second floors, pointing in their direction.

The speaker was a senior student who looked presentable enough, but nothing decent came from his mouth. His words were full of mockery and ridicule.

"Hehe, country bumpkins will always be country bumpkins. You can only eat that garbage 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 second-floor prices. He could only press his lips tightly together as his shoulders trembled with anger.

Just when Wang Sheng felt that his life had gone dark, a broad, warm hand landed on his shoulder. Yang Ming's voice was like a ray of 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 older students who had been heading toward the second floor paused, then abruptly turned to look at Yang Ming with cold sneers.

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