Meeting Wang Dong

The sun sank in the west, and the last streak of orange-red light was fading from the horizon.

Time to eat.

Zhang Lan stood up and stretched.

Just as he was about to head for the door, it was pulled open from outside.

A figure appeared in the doorway.

Zhang Lan paused in surprise.

The newcomer looked like a young boy.

He had neat, short pinkish-blue hair and eyes of the same color.

His skin was extraordinarily fair, and his features were as delicate as a doll's.

He was almost too pretty.

Wang Dong?

Why is he here?

Has God King Tang discovered me?

These questions ran through Zhang Lan's mind.

Perhaps claiming every opportunity Huo Yuhao had received at the beginning of the original story had raised his own fortune to extraordinary heights.

Compared with Huo Yuhao, he seemed more like the child of destiny.

Forget it. Now isn't the time to think about that.

Meanwhile, Wang Dong was also sizing up Zhang Lan.

He had well-proportioned features and an elegant bearing.

There was none of the coldness that warned strangers to keep their distance.

Wang Dong walked over to the other empty bed, then turned to Zhang Lan and said:

"You're staying in this room too, right?"

"Since you've cleaned the room so nicely, I'll allow you to stay with me for now."

"I have a few rules you need to remember. First, you're not allowed to bring people back to the room without permission."

"Second, you're not allowed to go around naked in here and annoy me."

"Third, no snoring at night."

"Fourth, don't disturb me."

"Fifth, you'll be responsible for cleaning the room from now on, but don't touch my bed."

"Is that clear?"

After listening, Zhang Lan pressed a hand to his forehead helplessly, then walked straight out of the room.

He didn't say a single word to him.

Wang Dong froze for a moment, then flew into a towering rage and chased after him.

In the open space outside the dormitory building, Wang Dong caught up with Zhang Lan in a few strides and darted in front of him.

His short pinkish-blue hair fluttered in the evening breeze as he tilted his head up to glare at Zhang Lan, the anger in his eyes written plainly across his face.

"Stop right there!"

He stretched out a hand to block Zhang Lan's path.

"I'm talking to you! Are you deaf?"

Zhang Lan stopped and looked down at him, his expression unchanged.

"You haven't agreed to my rules yet."

Wang Dong planted a hand on his hip.

"Why should I?"

Zhang Lan said.

"You-"

Wang Dong choked on his words, then took a deep breath and tamped down his anger.

He looked Zhang Lan up and down, then suddenly smiled, his smile carrying the swagger unique to youth.

"Fine. You're not convinced, are you?"

He took a step back and assumed a fighting stance.

"Then let's have a match. Whoever wins calls the shots."

"The loser follows the winner's rules without complaint. No going back on your word."

Zhang Lan looked at him for two breaths, then nodded.

The corner of Wang Dong's mouth curled up. Without another word, he pushed off the ground and charged.

He moved extremely fast, his punches and kicks crisp and clean. Clearly, he had trained since childhood.

His fist whistled through the air, heading straight for Zhang Lan's face.

Then his entire body froze.

Zhang Lan stood motionless, without even raising a hand.

He had merely mobilized his soul power and, without using his martial soul or a soul skill, silently laid a gravity field over Wang Dong.

Under twice the normal gravity, Wang Dong's fist stopped in midair. His whole body seemed trapped in an invisible mire, his movements forcibly cut short.

Wang Dong gritted his teeth, his body trembling violently within the gravity field.

He abruptly drove his soul power into action, and two Soul Rings, one yellow and one purple, burst out from beneath his feet.

The instant he released his martial soul, a brilliant light surged from within him.

It was so bright that the windows of several nearby dormitory buildings were washed in pale gold.

An enormous butterfly phantom unfurled behind him, its wings covered in intricate golden patterns. Every line flowed like molten gold spreading slowly over their surfaces.

As the butterfly wings trembled gently, fine motes of light spilled from their edges and drifted through the evening breeze, bathing the entire path in a dreamlike golden halo.

Several new students who had just emerged from the dormitory building were dazzled by the light and raised their hands to shield their eyes.

"What martial soul is that? It's beautiful!"

"Is that a butterfly? A golden butterfly?"

"One yellow and one purple... he's only twelve, isn't he? His second soul ring is already a thousand-year one?"

Murmurs rose one after another. Windows in the nearby buildings opened in succession, and quite a few new students leaned out to look.

Wang Dong stood at the center of the golden halo, the phantom butterfly wings beating slowly behind him. He caught his breath, broke free of the gravity field, and looked up at Zhang Lan with a hint of smugness in his eyes.

"Your turn. Release your martial soul."

Zhang Lan looked at him and shook his head.

"I don't need my martial soul to deal with you."

Wang Dong's smile froze.

Before he could retort, the pressure on his body suddenly increased. Twice the normal gravity became five times.

A crushing force bore down from every direction, buckling his knees and nearly forcing him to the ground.

He gritted his teeth and held himself up, trying to muster his soul power to resist, but his Soul Rings had barely lit up before the gravity field crushed them back down.

The butterfly phantom behind him shuddered violently. Golden motes scattered faster, and the outlines of its wings blurred under the pressure.

Unwilling to give in, he mobilized his soul power again. The butterfly wings held for a moment before being pressed back once more.

His martial soul was forced back into his body.

Wang Dong dropped to one knee, both hands braced against the ground, a fine sheen of sweat forming on his forehead.

A few strands of his short pinkish-blue hair were damp with sweat and clung to his cheeks.

He raised his head to glare at Zhang Lan, lips pressed tightly together, without saying a word.

Zhang Lan withdrew the gravity field and turned toward the dining hall.

After a few steps, he stopped and glanced back at him.

"Follow the rules."

With that, he left.

Wang Dong remained kneeling on the ground, his fingers slowly curling into fists against it.

He stared at Zhang Lan's retreating back, his chest heaving. Only after a long while did he force a few words through clenched teeth:

"...Just you wait."

Back in the dorm room.

Wang Dong tidied his bed, laid out his bedding, then flopped facedown onto it and buried his face in the pillow.

Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!

He had never suffered such humiliation in his life.

His eldest dad and second dad had clearly told him that, with his strength, he could swagger through the new students unchallenged.

He rolled over and stared at the ceiling.

That guy really was strong.

Before he could even strike, Zhang Lan's gravity had pinned him down so completely that he couldn't move.

Even releasing his martial soul had been useless.

"Hmph... what's so great about him?"

He muttered.

"His hand-to-hand skills definitely aren't as good as mine."

That evening, Zhang Lan returned to the dorm room.

He saw Wang Dong still lying on the bed, having skipped dinner.

"You didn't go eat?"

Zhang Lan asked.

Wang Dong didn't answer, but his stomach betrayed him with a growl.

"People are iron, and food is steel."

"Miss a meal, and hunger makes you reel."

"How can you go without eating?"

With that, Zhang Lan took some pastries out of his Storage Soul Tool and set them on the table.

"The dining hall's closed. Make do with these pastries for now."

"Consider them payment for the cleaning you'll be doing from now on."

Wang Dong glanced at them without saying anything.

He quietly sat up and began eating.

Zhang Lan said nothing and sat down on his own bed.

He picked up a book on Soul Tool theory and began reading.

He was building up the knowledge he would need to create an army of titans in the future.

The room was quiet, broken only by the soft rustle of turning pages and the delicate crunch of pastries being bitten into.

Halfway through eating, Wang Dong paused and stole a glance across the room.

Zhang Lan sat at the desk, holding a book, his gaze resting motionlessly on its pages.

His short brown hair gleamed warmly beneath the desk lamp, as though coated in a thin layer of honey.

He turned the pages gently, pinching a corner between his fingers, slowly turning it over, then smoothing it down.

The way he read so intently really did give him a scholarly air.

Wang Dong watched him for two breaths, then lowered his head and took another bite of pastry.

"You... what's your name?"

Wang Dong asked.

"Zhang Lan."

"My name's Wang Dong."

He paused, then added:

"I was careless today. Next time, I'll definitely beat you."

"Good luck."

Zhang Lan replied as he turned a page.

"Though your chances are slim."

"Hmph."

Wang Dong huffed, then lowered his head and continued eating.

He swore that one day, he would make Zhang Lan submit beneath him.