Fang Yang and Tang Wulin had successfully enrolled in Donghai Academy.
They were assigned to different classes: Fang Yang placed in Class 1, while Tang Wulin was sorted into Class 5.
Soon after, the two made their way to the dormitory building.
The door to Room 205 stood ajar—clearly, someone was already inside.
The room held two bunk beds (accommodating four residents), two rectangular desks, four chairs, two storage cabinets, and an overhead light. That was all.
"Hello! We're the new roommates—I'm Fang Yang, and this is Tang Wulin!"
Fang Yang stepped in, offering a polite greeting with a slight bow.
A burly boy didn't even look up. He jabbed a finger at the floor.
"New guys—go clean the dorm first!"
Fang Yang's brow furrowed slightly, but his voice remained calm.
"Oh? Say that again."
The burly boy shot to his feet, towering over them with a glare.
"I said—you two, go clean! Now!"
Tang Wulin stayed silent.
But Fang Yang let out a soft laugh—cold light flickering in his eyes.
"Go ahead. Bark like a dog again."
"I'll teach you some manners!" the burly boy roared. White light surged around him.
"Martial soul attachment!"
His body swelled instantly—thick fur sprouting across his skin. Clearly, his Spirit was the Beast-type Great Ape.
Just then—BAM!
The dorm door flew open.
A cold, arrogant boy in black athletic wear stormed in—without even glancing, he kicked over Tang Wulin's suitcase on the floor.
"Get out of the way!"
"You—!"
Tang Wulin's temper flared. Normally gentle, he was now fuming at such blatant disrespect.
He lunged forward.
Fang Yang, seeing this, turned to the burly boy—now fully transformed—and crooked his finger.
"You wanted to bark? Come on, then."
"You little punk—you're dead!" the burly boy bellowed, swinging a massive fist.
Fang Yang didn't dodge.
He simply raised his own fist—and met the strike head-on.
The moment their knuckles collided, a sickening crack of bone echoed through the room.
"Aaahh!" The burly boy screamed—then shot backward like a broken kite, crashing through the second-floor window in a shower of glass.
He landed hard on the ground outside, dust billowing around his groaning form.
Fang Yang shook his wrist, then leaned out the window.
"Still feel like barking?"
Meanwhile, inside the dorm, the second fight had already ended.
Tang Wulin executed a flawless shoulder throw, launching the black-clad boy straight out the same window—landing directly on top of the burly boy, who had just struggled to his feet.
The two collapsed in a heap, wailing in pain.
Fang Yang and Tang Wulin exchanged a grin.
"What's going on here? Are you trying to demolish the dorm?!"
A deep, authoritative voice cut through the chaos.
—
Ten minutes later—
Intermediate Division Discipline Office, Donghai Academy.
Director Long Hengxu stared coldly at the four boys before him, his face so dark it seemed ready to drip ink.
"So… you two started it?" His voice was glacial.
Fang Yang, Tang Wulin, the burly boy (Zhou Changxi), and the cold youth (Xie Xie) stood in a tense line.
Xie Xie's eyes glinted with icy hostility—his sharp gaze fixed on Tang Wulin, as if he wanted to tear him apart.
Both Xie Xie and Zhou Changxi had bandages wrapped around their arms—scrapes from the two-story fall.
Luckily, as soul masters, their bodies were tough—injuries were minor.
Zhou Changxi kept his head down, fear flickering in his eyes as he avoided looking at Fang Yang.
He vividly remembered: Fang Yang hadn't even activated his martial soul—just raw physical power—and shattered his fist like paper.
That pure, overwhelming strength had truly terrified him for the first time.
As the old saying goes: "The wise yield to avoid disaster."
Director Long's voice snapped him back to reality:
"Zhou Changxi—your martial soul quality was good enough for Class 3. But on your very first day, you bully newcomers? Your conduct is deeply disappointing. From now on, you'll stay in Class 5—permanently."
He turned to Xie Xie. "And you—Xie Xie—brawling on day one? You deserved that beating. Class 5 is your fate."
His gaze shifted to Tang Wulin. "You too—Class 5."
Finally, his eyes landed on Fang Yang. With a knowing look, he said:
"As for you… your talent and strength easily qualify you for Class 1. But since you love fighting so much, you'll join Class 5 as well."
He added sternly: "And the broken window—the four of you will split the repair costs."
Without waiting for a response, he waved them off—as if their presence alone annoyed him.
Thus, by a twist of fate, the four boys—originally in different classes—were now classmates in the academy's worst-rated class.
Once their footsteps faded, Director Long's stern expression melted away.
A sly, satisfied smile spread across his face.
"Perfect. Sending a prodigy like Fang Yang to the lowest-ranked Class 5 will shake things up. It'll give the other classes some much-needed pressure—stop them from getting complacent!"
"And that Wu Zhangkong… sure, he's cold and arrogant—annoying as hell—but he did graduate from Shrek Academy. His teaching skills are undeniable."
"Let's see what kind of sparks these problem students create under his guidance…"
—
Dorm Room 205
The four boys sat in tense silence, the air thick with awkwardness.
Fang Yang scanned the room—then broke the quiet with a warm laugh.
"As the saying goes—'no fight, no friendship'. We've got no real grudge. How about we all go to the cafeteria for a meal?"
Tang Wulin's eyes lit up instantly. "Yes! I'm starving!"
After a pause, Zhou Changxi scratched his head, clearly embarrassed.
"Uh… Fang Yang, I was too rash earlier. Sorry about that."
He added quickly, "I promise it won't happen again."
Xie Xie also turned to Tang Wulin, voice sincere. "I was wrong today. My apologies."
Tang Wulin waved his hands. "It's fine! I wasn't innocent either."
Seeing the tension dissolve, Fang Yang clapped his hands cheerfully.
"Then it's settled! First dorm meal—my treat!"
"Really?!" Tang Wulin grinned. "Then I'm ordering extra dishes!"
"Hey hey, Wulin—don't bankrupt me!" Fang Yang jokingly clutched his pockets, sparking laughter from the whole room.
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