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After parting with Gu Yue, Fang Yang returned to the dorm with Tang Wulin and Xie Xie.
The three had barely settled in when the dorm door slammed open.
Zhou Changxi burst in, panting heavily, face flushed with panic.
"Bad news! A mob's blocked Donghai Academy's main gate!"
Tang Wulin shot to his feet. "Zhou Changxi—what's going on?!"
"They're holding your photos—and Gu Yue's—demanding the academy hand you over!" Zhou Changxi wiped sweat from his brow. "They look serious—Discipline Office'll send someone for you any minute!"
"Oh?" Fang Yang gazed thoughtfully out the window.
Xie Xie scoffed, pulling out his soul-guided communicator.
"Must be those thugs from yesterday."
He dialed a number.
A respectful voice answered instantly: "Young Master—your command?"
"Butler—bring men to Donghai Academy. Trouble's come."
"Understood. I'll arrange it immediately."
As the call ended, the aged butler turned toward the manor's study.
Inside the Xie Estate, the Xie Clan patriarch was reviewing documents. Seeing the butler's urgency, he looked up.
"What's happened?"
"Lord—the young master's in trouble at school…"
The patriarch's pen froze mid-stroke. A complex emotion flashed in his eyes.
"Xie Xie… he's finally reached out to the family?"
Bitterness tinged his voice.
The butler sighed. "My Lord… he's still your son."
The patriarch rose, walking to the window—his back radiating loneliness.
"I wronged his mother… all these years, he's never forgiven me…"
"My Lord, you had no choice back then—"
"Enough." The patriarch waved a hand, his eyes sharpening with resolve. "Mobilize our forces. I'll see who dares touch a Xie in Donghai City!"
"Yes, my Lord!"
After the butler left, the patriarch stared into the distance, whispering:
"Xie Xie… Father's sorry…"
Meanwhile, Tang Wulin also pulled out his communicator.
"President Mu Chen—it's Tang Wulin."
His voice carried an apology. "I've run into trouble—could you come to Donghai Academy?"
Mu Chen's hearty laugh boomed through the line:
"Wulin! Rare for you to call me first. Of course—I'll be there with my men!"
At the Smith Association, Mu Chen set down his device, expression turning thoughtful.
As Donghai's Smith Association President, he rarely received such urgent pleas.
But Tang Wulin was no ordinary talent—his forging gift was a once-in-a-century phenomenon.
"Looks like I must go myself," Mu Chen decided, standing.
He turned to his assistant. "Mobilize our people—head to Donghai Academy!"
"Yes, President!"
Zhou Changxi watched in awe. "You two… just called in reinforcements?!"
Fang Yang stepped forward, slapping their shoulders. "Let's go see what's happening."
The three strode out—Zhou Changxi trailing curiously.
Outside the dorm, they met Gu Yue, standing calmly by the path.
"Gu Yue—you heard?" Fang Yang asked.
She nodded faintly. "About yesterday?"
"Let's go," Xie Xie's eyes glinted with cold fury, striding toward the gate—
until Fang Yang grabbed his arm.
"We report to Teacher Wu first," Fang Yang said firmly.
They instantly understood.
Zhou Changxi jogged behind, bewildered. "This is huge—over 200 thugs are blocking the gate! What did you do?!"
"Explanations later," Tang Wulin said. "First, find Teacher Wu."
Wu Zhangkong's routine was strict—he was always in his quarters after dinner.
When the door opened, the white-robed Wu Zhangkong stood before them, voice icy:
"Trouble with cultivation?"
Xie Xie and Tang Wulin shrank into silence.
Fang Yang stepped forward. "Teacher Wu… we've caused trouble…"
After their report, Wu Zhangkong's face remained impassive.
"You killed someone? Impressive."
Without another word, he strode out, white robes fluttering, long hair flowing, radiating an ethereal, otherworldly aura, like a fallen immortal.
Fang Yang took Gu Yue's hand, nudged the awestruck Tang Wulin and Xie Xie, and the four followed Wu Zhangkong toward the gate.
Outside Donghai Academy, chaos reigned.
Over 200 burly thugs blocked the entrance, many brandishing soul-guided weapons—some federally banned for civilians.
Thanks to advancing soul-guided tech, even commoners now wielded enough firepower to challenge an academy.
Crowds of Middle and Senior Division students gathered, watching as the thugs held four large photos:
Fang Yang, Gu Yue, Tang Wulin, Xie Xie.
At the front, men carried a stretcher—Guang Long's corpse, face pale against the mob's frenzy.
A massive banner read:
"MURDER DEMANDS A LIFE! HAND OVER THE KILLERS!"
Most shockingly—a mecha battalion stood ready.
Leading them: a purple mecha, radiating overwhelming power.
Behind it: four yellow mechas, followed by fifteen white mechas.
Director Long Hengxu arrived with a dozen teachers, roaring:
"Who do you think you are?! Blocking an academy—and mobilizing Donghai's Mecha Battalion without authorization?!"
From the purple mecha came a glacial voice:
"I am Guang Biao, Captain of Donghai's Mecha Battalion. My brother died by your students' hands. Hand them over—or we take them ourselves!"
Long Hengxu's face darkened. "The academy will investigate. If crimes were committed, we won't protect them. But your siege violates federal law!"
"Enough talk!" Guang Biao bellowed. "Half an hour—or we storm the gates!"
Just then—a commotion rippled through the academy.
The crowd parted like waves, revealing Wu Zhangkong in white robes, flanked by Fang Yang's group.
"THERE THEY ARE!" Guang Biao's eyes blazed with murder. "SEIZE THEM!"
Instantly, four yellow mechas and fifteen white mechas encircled Wu Zhangkong's party, weapons primed.
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