Carrying his bedding, Tang San arrived at his dormitory.
Dorm Seven.
The moment he entered, he saw a group of children slightly older than himself making a racket.
At the sound of Tang San entering, everyone immediately fell silent and turned to look at him.
Tang San felt a surge of nervousness.
Still, he gathered his courage and introduced himself first. "Um, I'm Tang San, from Holy Soul Village."
"My name's Wang Sheng. What's your martial soul, kid, and how much innate soul power do you have?"
A boy who looked like their leader came up to Tang San and spoke down to him.
"Um, it's Blue Silver Grass, and my innate soul power is level three."
Tang San looked Wang Sheng straight in the eye. Though he felt a little nervous, on closer consideration, the boy was nothing compared to his father.
"Blue Silver Grass? Even Blue Silver Grass can cultivate now?"
Wang Sheng put on an exaggerated look of disbelief, sending the other children into gales of laughter.
This made Tang San deeply uncomfortable.
Instinctively, however, he wanted to avoid provoking the boy any further. He had come here to attend school and learn to become a Soul Master.
"Um, please let me through."
Wang Sheng ignored Tang San's words. "Little San, I'm the boss around here. From now on, you listen to me. Got it?"
"Don't call me Little San!"
That was an affectionate name the village elders used for him, yet this rude fellow had tossed it out so casually.
A fuse inside Tang San had been lit.
He pulled out the Forging Hammer he carried with him and swung it viciously at Wang Sheng.
Tang San struck too quickly for anyone to see clearly. All they saw was Wang Sheng suddenly pitching backward and falling flat on the floor.
Wang Sheng gritted his teeth and stood up. He was a level-nine Soul Master; that sneak attack had only left him hurting quite a bit.
But it was enough to make him furious.
"Fuck, I'll show you who's really the boss of Dorm Seven! Get him!"
As everyone closed in, a trace of regret and fear rose in Tang San's heart. How could he have been so irrational?
In truth, Tang San was not entirely to blame. A child starved of affection from an early age could easily become a quiet, withdrawn sort who never caused trouble.
Such people were also the most volatile, liable to erupt at any moment.
And Tang San himself had not noticed the exhilaration he had felt when he swung that hammer.
"Woo~ Is there a fight going on?"
Just then, a cheerful voice came from behind Tang San.
He turned to see a cute girl with a Scorpion Braid, rubbing her hands together and itching to join in.
"Another one? Perfect. We'll put both of you in your place!"
Everyone rushed them at once.
At the sight, Tang San steeled himself and tightened his grip on the Forging Hammer.
The girl, however, stepped forward first and plunged into the fray.
"Hi-yah!" "Gwah!" "Hi-yah!" "Gwah!" "Hi-yah!" "Gwah!"
The sight of the girl fighting etched itself into Tang San's mind.
She's amazing. Can I become that strong too?
In the end, the girl beat everyone to the floor all by herself.
Tang San merely watched without taking the initiative to attack. At heart, he still wanted to avoid stirring up more trouble.
Since the girl could handle it alone, he was happy to stay out of it.
"Hi, I'm Xiao Wu. Wu as in dancing. Why didn't you join the fight?"
"Tang San. Um, I came here to become a Soul Master, not to fight."
"Haha, you're joking, right? How could a Soul Master possibly not fight?"
Xiao Wu laughed at Tang San, leaving him somewhat bewildered. What exactly was a Soul Master?
"Ahem! What exactly happened here?"
A man with a stiff, grim face appeared in the dormitory doorway. Neither Tang San nor Xiao Wu had noticed him at all.
Beside him stood a young teacher, who already had a good idea of what had happened from the scene before him.
These work-study students are stirring up trouble again.
"Um..." Tang San started, then hesitated.
"I beat them all up," Xiao Wu admitted without hesitation, looking rather proud of herself.
The young teacher sighed softly at this.
"Are you proud of yourself? Do you enjoy using your strength to bully the weak that much?"
The middle-aged man beside him spoke calmly, but the authority in his voice made Tang San and Xiao Wu straighten involuntarily.
"Do you think behaving like this will let you become Soul Masters who are of any use to the world?"
"Grandmaster, let it go. She's just a work-study kid. It's only another initiation for the new work-study students."
The young teacher stepped in to smooth things over.
"This sort of thing isn't limited to work-study students. Without proper guidance from childhood, even if they become Soul Masters, sooner or later they'll become a scourge wherever they go."
The middle-aged man addressed as Grandmaster still wore a stiff expression, though it had visibly darkened.
"Ahem! Anyway, let's take the children to the Infirmary first. They have classes tomorrow."
The young teacher made the arrangements.
"Director Su, let's discuss the textbook revisions tomorrow, then."
Once the two had settled the arrangements, they prepared to leave.
Tang San watched the Grandmaster's retreating back, thought for a moment, then went out and followed him.
"Um, Grandmaster, I have a question I'd like to ask you."
The Grandmaster stopped when called and turned to see Tang San.
The new student who had stood in Dorm Seven earlier, clutching a hammer in bewilderment.
"Go ahead."
The Grandmaster nodded.
"What is a Soul Master?"
At Tang San's question, the Grandmaster's eyes lit up.
Director Su realized that the Grandmaster's interest had been piqued, so he said goodbye and went off alone to arrange treatment for Dorm Seven.
"That question isn't something I can explain in just a few words. Come with me."
The Grandmaster had Tang San follow him.
They exchanged names along the way, and only then did Tang San learn that the man was named Yu Xiaogang, though everyone called him Grandmaster.
Apparently, he was an expert in theory, responsible for writing textbooks at Nuoding Academy and serving as an adviser on its courses.
Yet he described himself as nothing more than a freeloader.
They arrived at the Grandmaster's office, which was piled with all kinds of books and contained some oddly shaped instruments.
The Grandmaster brought out a stool for Tang San, then sat in the wooden chair at his desk.
He removed his hat, revealing a full head of white hair.
"Tang San, why did you ask that question?"
"Because I don't understand."
"In that case, I'll briefly explain how the Douluo Continent currently defines a Soul Master."
Anyone who possessed soul power and could cultivate a martial soul was a Soul Master.
Soul Masters enjoyed an exalted status, did not have to engage in production, and possessed all manner of unusual abilities.
"Then what are Soul Masters like in your eyes, and what do you think they ought to be like?"
The Grandmaster asked abruptly.
Tang San pursed his lips and knitted his brows, then answered cautiously, "Soul Masters have power. Soul Masters like fighting. Soul Masters are frightening."
"I think becoming a Soul Master can change my fate, and make Grandpa Jack and Dad happy."
No mother? No wonder he's so timid.
The Grandmaster was building a picture of little Tang San before him.
"You're right. That's exactly the kind of fucking profession being a Soul Master is."
"Power and status. It comes down to those two things."
"The power of martial souls gives people a step up the ladder of status."
"Even a Soul Master with only level-one innate soul power stands entirely above others once they obtain their first Soul Ring."
"Even if they accidentally strike some insignificant commoner, no one will blame that Soul Master."
"Of course, I'm not condemning the existence of Soul Masters. I simply think people's view of them is somewhat mistaken."
"Then how can I be the right kind of Soul Master?"
Tang San's little head could not take in so many concepts, and he felt rather dizzy. Still, he had caught one key word.
Mistaken.
If something was wrong, it had to be corrected. That was why Tang San wanted to become the right kind of Soul Master.
He did not understand the weight of that idea. He simply felt that being right was good.