Dorm Room 205

Inside Eastsea Academy's Dormitory building, sunlight streamed through the windows onto the somewhat untidy floor.

Tang Wulin frowned slightly as he pushed open the door to Room 205. A burly, powerfully built boy was sitting brazenly on his bed, fiddling with a soul communicator. It was Zhou Changxi.

"Oh, a newcomer?" Zhou Changxi gave Tang Wulin a sidelong glance, showing no intention of getting up. Instead, he deliberately rubbed the mud from his shoes onto the clean sheets. "I've claimed this bed. You can sleep on the floor. And from now on, all the daily cleaning is your job. Got it?"

Tang Wulin ignored his provocation. He simply walked silently to the bedside, took a neatly folded handkerchief from inside his clothes, and gently laid it over the pillow. Na'er and Tang Wutong had sewn that handkerchief together for him. Embroidered with stars and blue silver grass, it was his most treasured possession.

"I'm talking to you! Are you deaf?" Furious at being ignored, Zhou Changxi abruptly stood up and kicked over Tang Wulin's luggage. He also stepped on the handkerchief Tang Wulin had just laid out, deliberately grinding it beneath his foot. "You think this rag deserves to be on a bed?"

Tang Wulin's gaze turned cold in an instant. He whipped around, a terrifying glint of ice flashing through his golden eyes.

"My sister bought that for me, and you actually dared to throw it on the floor like some worthless thing!"

Before Zhou Changxi could react, a large hand clamped around his wrist like an iron vise. With a low roar, Tang Wulin unleashed all his rank thirty-nine soul power without restraint. The muscles in his arm bulged as he swung Zhou Changxi's massive body up and slammed him straight into the Dormitory window.

Crash!

The wooden window shattered on impact. Zhou Changxi screamed as he flew out of the second floor and landed hard on the lawn below, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Tang Wulin stood before the broken window, his chest heaving. Just as he turned to retrieve the handkerchief from the floor, the Dormitory door opened again.

Xie Xie had just reached the doorway. Hearing the commotion, he instinctively glanced inside and saw Tang Wulin bristling with fury, his anger fierce enough to lift his hair. Startled, he reflexively stepped back, only to accidentally tread on the handkerchief Zhou Changxi had kicked toward the door.

"What are you looking at?"

But Tang Wulin was still on the verge of erupting. Seeing Xie Xie step on the handkerchief that held his memories of Na'er and Gu Yue made the fury in his heart even harder to contain.

Tang Wulin roared, instantly releasing his Blue Silver Grass Martial Soul. A tough vine lashed toward Xie Xie like a whip. Xie Xie felt his feet slip, and before he could react, an enormous force flipped him over. He too tumbled out of the doorway in a miserable heap, landing beside the flower bed downstairs.

"You bastards!"

Tang Wulin stood in the doorway, blue silver grass whipping behind him. He bent down to pick up the handkerchief and carefully brushed away its dust. Only then did the anger slowly fade from his eyes, replaced by a profound loneliness.

Downstairs, Zhou Changxi clutched his lower back and wailed, while Xie Xie rubbed his backside, utterly bewildered. In the distance, Director Long Hengxu, who had hurried over after hearing the news, surveyed the wreckage and the two injured new students. Then he looked up at the stubborn boy standing beside the second-floor window, his brows knitting tightly together.

Eastsea Academy, the disciplinary director's office.

A suffocating sense of pressure filled the air. Long Hengxu, the intermediate division's disciplinary director, sat upright behind his broad desk, his expression so dark it seemed water might drip from it. His hawk-sharp eyes were fixed on the three students in the middle of the office—or, more precisely, the two standing there and the one who had been carried in.

"Zhou Changxi, get up!" Long Hengxu slammed his hand onto the desk with a loud bang, making the two students carrying the stretcher shudder.

Zhou Changxi, who had been groaning on the stretcher, no longer dared to pretend he was in pain. He scrambled off it and stood upright, dusty and disheveled. Though he was built like a young bull, he was as meek as a quail before Long Hengxu.

"Director Long, you have to stand up for me!" Zhou Changxi's voice trembled with tears the moment he opened his mouth. "That kid Tang Wulin started hitting people as soon as he entered the Dormitory! Look at all these injuries! I nearly broke my bones in the fall! Xie Xie got beaten up too!"

Xie Xie was standing nearby, rubbing his backside. Hearing Zhou Changxi drag him into it, he raised a hand with an innocent expression. "Director, I was caught in the crossfire! All I did was leave a footprint. I didn't do anything else..."

Long Hengxu ignored Xie Xie's defense and turned toward Tang Wulin, who had remained silent throughout. Unlike the flustered Zhou Changxi, Tang Wulin stood perfectly straight despite being only nine years old and slight of build. His golden eyes held not a trace of fear, only a composure utterly at odds with his age.

"Tang Wulin," Long Hengxu said in a low voice that betrayed neither anger nor pleasure, "Zhou Changxi says you attacked him over a disagreement and threw a fellow student out of a second-floor window. What explanation do you have?"

Tang Wulin pressed his lips together and took out the handkerchief embroidered with stars and blue silver grass. One corner still bore mud from the sole of Zhou Changxi's shoe, an especially glaring stain.

"He touched my things first." Tang Wulin's voice was clear and firm. "This was... left to me by people who are very important to me."

Long Hengxu's gaze fell on the handkerchief, then returned to the chill that had yet to fade from Tang Wulin's eyes. He frowned slightly. He knew Zhou Changxi's character all too well. Relying on his family's connections and his position as the biggest student in this year's intake, he frequently bullied others. It was hardly surprising that he had been beaten after provoking someone.

"Zhou Changxi," Long Hengxu turned toward the burly boy, his tone growing sterner, "is Tang Wulin telling the truth? Did you provoke him first?"

"I..." Zhou Changxi stammered, his gaze darting away. "I just wanted to play a joke on him..."

"A joke?" Long Hengxu sneered. "Throwing a new student's belongings on the floor and trampling them, then taking over his bed—is that your idea of a joke? I think you were relying on your status as an old student in this intake to bully a newcomer!"

With his intentions exposed, Zhou Changxi flushed scarlet and lowered his head, not daring to speak.

Long Hengxu took a deep breath and swept his gaze over Tang Wulin, Xie Xie, and Zhou Changxi. He knew perfectly well that Tang Wulin, despite being only nine, possessed rank thirty-nine soul power and was an undeniable genius. But precisely because he was so strong, he had no sense of how much force to use. As for Zhou Changxi and Xie Xie, one abused his advantages to bully others, while the other was plagued by rotten luck. Putting these three prickly boys with such different temperaments together was practically creating a powder keg.

"In light of the three of you and your 'splendid performance,'" Long Hengxu said, settling back into his chair and clasping his hands on the desk, his tone brooking no argument, "your original class assignments are canceled."

Zhou Changxi secretly rejoiced at the news, thinking he would finally be spared sharing a class with that monster.

"Zhou Changxi, haven't you been complaining that the regular classes are too crowded and have too many rules?" Long Hengxu looked at him coldly. "Starting today, you'll be in Class Five of the first year."

"Class Five?" Zhou Changxi froze. "Isn't that..."

"That's right," Long Hengxu interrupted. "Class Five is a special class established this year, specifically for 'brilliantly talented' students like you."

Before Zhou Changxi could react, Long Hengxu turned his gaze toward Tang Wulin and Xie Xie. "You two will report to Class Five as well."

"What? Me too?" Xie Xie exclaimed. "Director, I really am innocent! I was just passing by!"

"Passing by?" Long Hengxu glared at him irritably. "Since you got involved, you'll share the punishment! Class Five needs more students anyway. The three of you will round out the numbers!"

Long Hengxu waved a hand, giving them no further chance to argue. "Take my note and report to Class Five immediately! If you're even a minute late, I'll have you running laps around the field until graduation!"

Outside the office, the sunlight was dazzling.

Rubbing his lower back, Zhou Changxi glared viciously at Tang Wulin. "Hmph! Just you wait. I'll deal with you once we get to Class Five!"

Tang Wulin paid him no attention. He carefully put away the handkerchief, then turned and left. Xie Xie sighed and patted his shoulder, wearing a miserable expression. "Brother, you really are a trouble magnet. But since we're going to be classmates from now on... can I ask you something? How did you fling me out like that? It looked pretty painful, but I don't think any of my bones got hurt..."

Tang Wulin glanced at him without speaking and merely quickened his pace. Xie Xie hurried after him, still chattering nonstop.

The three figures headed toward the fabled Class Five, one following another. None of them noticed Long Hengxu standing at his office window, watching their retreating backs with a meaningful curve to his lips.

"Wu Changkong, I'm leaving these troublemakers to you. Hopefully they won't tear the academy apart..."

Eastsea Academy's opening ceremony was held in the grand central plaza. The morning light fell across the neat ranks of students, gilding their brand-new uniforms with a faint golden edge. Students from every year stood solemnly at attention. Tang Wulin, Xie Xie, and Zhou Changxi had "astonished everyone with their first cry" upon arriving at the academy, earning Director Long's special approval to join the first year's special Class Five. They now stood in Class Five's designated area, while their classmates instinctively kept a subtle distance, their eyes filled with curiosity, scrutiny, and even a little sympathy.

The ceremony proceeded according to schedule. Dean's address was lengthy and full of expectations, while the other teachers' speeches consisted mostly of familiar platitudes. Many students in Class Five stood with their heads slightly bowed, looking listless. This newly established "special class" felt like a label, making them feel like outcasts abandoned by the mainstream, their futures uncertain.

Just then, a figure like snow upon a solitary peak appeared soundlessly on the plaza's podium, taking his place beside Dean.

The moment he appeared, the atmosphere in the plaza seemed to freeze.

He was an exceptionally young man, around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, tall and straight-backed. He wore a well-tailored, dark blue academy robe whose hem remained utterly still in the breeze, as though he himself were an unshakable iceberg. His long, dark green hair was simply tied behind his head. A few strands fell across his forehead, yet rather than looking untidy, they accentuated the cold severity of his features, as if carved by blade and chisel. His skin had the pallor of someone who rarely saw sunlight, his thin lips were tightly pressed together, and his jawline was sharp and cold. Most unforgettable of all were his eyes—deep as icy pools and dark as midnight, devoid of any flicker of emotion, yet seemingly capable of piercing straight into the heart.

He was Wu Changkong, Eastsea Academy's youngest Six-Ring Soul Emperor, whose strength was infinitely close to that of a Soul Saint. He was also the homeroom teacher who would soon lead the first year's Class Five.

Dean gave a brief introduction. "This is Teacher Wu Changkong, the homeroom teacher of Class Five in your first year. I hope that under Teacher Wu's guidance, you will... ahem, achieve something worthwhile."

There was a barely perceptible complexity in Dean's tone, as though he was not entirely reassured by this arrangement himself.

Wu Changkong gave a slight nod and stepped forward. He used no Amplifying Soul Tool, yet his voice reached every student in the plaza clearly, as though he were whispering beside their ears, while carrying a power that pierced the soul:

"I am Wu Changkong."

"Starting today, I am the homeroom teacher of Class Five, first year."

His voice was not loud, but it was like an icy sword, instantly cutting through every faint murmur in the plaza. Every gaze was drawn toward him, and the students of Class Five in particular held their breath.

Wu Changkong slowly swept his gaze across the students below, finally resting it on the ranks of the first year's Class Five. His eyes did not deliberately linger on anyone, yet every student his gaze touched felt an invisible pressure.

"I know some of you may feel that you were singled out as 'misfits' and placed in this 'special class.' Inevitably, you may feel disappointed, or even give up on yourselves."

He paused. The faintest curve seemed to touch his lips, but it vanished so quickly that it might have been an illusion.

"But I want to tell you that you are wrong."

"The word 'special' is not an insult. It means being different. It means potential. It means the academy has greater expectations for you than for the other classes."

His voice remained calm, yet held an unquestionable authority. "In the world of Soul Masters, strength reigns supreme. I don't care about your past, your background, whether you have made mistakes, or what others think of you."

"I care only about your future, and whether you possess an unyielding fighting spirit worthy of the name 'Wulin,' along with the determination to climb to the pinnacle of the soul path."

"I am a Six-Ring Soul Emperor, only one step away from becoming a Soul Saint. That strength may not be the greatest in this academy, but it is enough to show you what the true path of a Soul Master is."

As his words fell, an invisible wave of soul power pressure enveloped the entire plaza like a frigid current from the depths of the Sea. Though he did not deliberately target anyone, the oppressive aura of a high-level Soul Master still stole the breath of many younger students. Even some of the weaker teachers paled slightly.

"My teaching method can be summed up in one word—strict."

"Strict to the point of harshness. Strict to the point of being unfeeling."

"Because I will not allow my students to be mediocre."

"After the opening ceremony, every student in Class Five, first year, will assemble at the academy's Training Grounds. Anyone who arrives late will bear the consequences."

With that, Wu Changkong said no more. He bowed slightly to Dean, then turned and left the podium as soundlessly as he had arrived, leaving behind only a proud, peerless figure.

The plaza was deathly silent.

Only after a moment did irrepressible whispers erupt.

"My god... that's Teacher Wu Changkong? A Six-Ring Soul Emperor? He's... he's so strong!"

"Just listening to him makes all the blood in my body boil!"

"'An unyielding fighting spirit'... he's right. Why should we think of ourselves as misfits?"

"So what if we're in Class Five? With a teacher like that, I suddenly feel... maybe it isn't so bad!"

Within the ranks of the first year's Class Five, light rekindled in the eyes of many students who had been hanging their heads in dejection. Xie Xie was so excited that his face flushed red. He grabbed Tang Wulin's arm. "Wulin! Did you hear that? Teacher Wu said we're 'potential'! We're 'expectations'! Not a garbage dump!"

An unusual gleam also flashed through Tang Wulin's golden eyes. He looked in the direction where Wu Changkong had disappeared, and the gloom born of being singled out for special treatment seemed to be swept away. This teacher was unlike anyone he had ever met.

Even the normally loud and blustering Zhou Changxi put away his contemptuous expression and looked toward the Training Grounds with complicated eyes. Wu Changkong's strength and his words had struck his heart like a heavy hammer. For the first time, he felt that this so-called "special class" might truly have something special about it.

The opening ceremony ended amid a peculiar atmosphere.

As the students of the other classes dispersed in twos and threes, everyone in the first year's Class Five instinctively quickened their steps and converged on the Training Grounds. There was a trace of apprehension in their hearts, but stronger still was a newly kindled anticipation unlike anything they had ever felt.

The Six-Ring Soul Emperor named Wu Changkong had, in his own unique way, planted a seed called "confidence" in their hearts.