Chapter Two: Only I Can Teach Them a Lesson

Song Yue stood there in an oversized vest and baggy shorts, sweat streaming down his face, feeling a little awkward as he rubbed his hands together and looked at Qian Qianxue. “Is it really okay to go on a date looking like this? Isn’t it a bit too casual? Maybe… why don’t you come inside for a bit, I’ll show you the goldfish, then I’ll go shower and change into something more proper…”

Qian Qianxue’s beautiful face twitched ever so slightly as she replied coolly, “What are you thinking? Who said anything about a date? Someone’s come looking for trouble and it’s inconvenient for me to act. I need you to teach them a lesson.”

Song Yue’s enthusiasm instantly deflated—it wasn’t a date after all!

If you’re not here for me, then why did you come?

Besides, someone stirring up trouble at the Cultivation Academy is a good thing, isn’t it?

What does that have to do with me?

He’d much rather grab a stool and enjoy the show.

Qian Qianxue looked at him calmly. “Didn’t you say that, at the Cultivation Academy, you’re the only one allowed to beat people up?”

Song Yue scratched his head. He had indeed said that, but the thing was… when others picked on those weaklings, he didn’t really mind!

“The ones causing trouble are from the Elite Martial Arts Hall,” Qian Qianxue continued, her gaze steady.

“What?” Song Yue’s spirits lifted, and he looked at Qian Qianxue in disbelief. “People from the Elite Martial Arts Hall came to the Cultivation Academy to make trouble? Are they bored out of their minds? Nothing better to do?”

“One of them is pursuing your sister,” Qian Qianxue said.

Your sister!

Song Yue nearly shot back instinctively—no one had ever gotten the upper hand with him like that before!

But then he frowned as something occurred to him. “You mean Wen Rou?”

Qian Qianxue nodded. “Who else? Do you have any other friends in the Cultivation Academy? You’ve practically fought everyone else.” There was a hint of resentment in her tone.

After all, no one liked to see their fellow students beaten up by outsiders.

So now I’m the villain?

Song Yue looked at her. “Aren’t you my friend?”

How did that saying go? First you call her ‘sister,’ then ‘little sister,’ and eventually, you call her ‘wife!’ But before calling her ‘sister,’ surely you should be friends…

“I’m not,” Qian Qianxue replied.

Song Yue was speechless. That stung a little.

Qian Qianxue’s starry eyes were as cool as water as she continued, “Those people are shouting that there’s no one in the Cultivation Academy who can fight. Now that I’m a high-level cultivator, by the rules, I can’t take action against them. I told them that if they can defeat Wen Rou’s brother, we won’t stand in their way.”

So, I’m just being dragged out as a shield?

But why should I?

A lovely girl deserves to be pursued—what’s wrong with that?

Of course, if they were after Wen Rou, he wasn’t exactly thrilled.

“Wen Rou cried,” Qian Qianxue delivered the final blow.

That was it—Song Yue was angry.

If Qian Qianxue was the woman he most wanted to pursue, then Wen Rou was truly his only real friend in the Cultivation Academy after ten years there.

He had no idea why, but no one else seemed to like him much!

Wen Rou was different. She was just like her name—gentle and soft, always trailing behind him, pleading in her gentle voice, “Brother, could you please stop picking on my classmates? They’re all afraid of you.”

She often brought him treats, helped him find martial arts manuals, and over the past couple of years, he’d almost felt guilty about causing trouble.

If Wen Rou had wanted this, he might have left it alone, but if she cried, as Qian Qianxue said, then that was unacceptable.

Clearly, she wasn’t happy!

No one bullies my little sister!

“Fine, I’ll go with you,” Song Yue said, shuffling out in his slippers and shorts. “Lead the way!” he added, nonchalant.

Now it was Qian Qianxue’s turn to hesitate, her gaze soft and deep as she looked at Song Yue. “You’re going like that?”

“Should I bring a knife?” Song Yue asked, genuinely surprised. “Isn’t that a bit much? It’s just a bunch of kids chasing after a girl—do we really need to go that far?”

He eyed Qian Qianxue with some astonishment. Such a beautiful girl, and yet so ruthless? Was it really safe to marry a girl like this?

Her flawless face finally cracked, and she snapped, “Who told you to bring a knife? Am I that vicious? I meant, are you really going in slippers?”

“Oh, you mean that,” Song Yue scratched his head, “Slippers… I’m already giving them a lot of face.”

Qian Qianxue was speechless, glaring at him. “Let’s go.”

…

At the neighboring Cultivation Academy, a massive crowd had gathered, split into two clear factions.

On one side, the youths from the Elite Martial Arts Hall strutted with arrogance, their faces adorned with the unrestrained grins of the victorious.

On the other, the students of the Cultivation Academy looked battered and downtrodden, some sporting bruised faces and tear tracks.

The young cultivators were weak, delicate as willows swaying in the wind.

A group of teachers tried to maintain order, but their faces were dark. Their status prevented them from taking action—after all, the Academy welcomed challenges.

Still, their mood was foul; they despised these damned rules.

It was bad enough being bullied by Song Yue, but now the Elite Martial Arts Hall had come to add insult to injury.

Such was the greatest sorrow of cultivators.

Before achieving real strength, they were barely different from ordinary people.

Even those with some cultivation had been defeated by regular folk before.

There was a famous case years ago: a mid-level cultivator, already at the sixth level of Qi Nurturing and on the verge of reaching the high ranks, able to unleash powerful, destructive spells.

But over some trivial matter, he got into a spat with an ordinary man, a huge fellow over six feet tall. The cultivator, relying on his magical skills, paid the man no mind.

As he prepared to cast his spell, the man suddenly pulled out a knife and stabbed him in the gut—his intestines spilled everywhere, the scene beyond gruesome.

The cultivator died on the spot.

The incident was a sensation at the time.

Song Yue had never dared to make light of such matters, but deep down, he could never help feeling it was a waste.

If you’re going to fight, strike first—why stand there posturing? If you know your close combat skills are weak, your defenses poor, and you still give someone the chance to get close—who else can you blame?

Most students in the Cultivation Academy made the same mistake—they were all posers.

Otherwise, how could a mere martial artist like him take on the entire school single-handedly?

Qian Qianxue, on the other hand, was smart. She cultivated both spells and martial arts, perfectly compensating for the weaknesses of early-stage cultivators.

After suffering a minor defeat at her hands, Song Yue never bothered her again.

As Song Yue and Qian Qianxue entered the Academy, they could hear the Elite Martial Arts Hall crowd jeering from afar: “Where is he? Didn’t you go call for help? Too scared to come?”

“I’d like to see if anyone still has the guts to show up after hearing ‘Elite Martial Arts Hall’!”

“Maybe they’re just stalling, hoping we’ll leave?”

“Forget it, we’re not leaving without a proper answer today!”

A Cultivation Academy student finally snapped, shouting, “This is the Cultivation Academy, not your playground! Don’t think no one here can put you in your place—there are plenty who can!”

The Elite Martial Arts Hall crowd shot back immediately, “Sure, Qian Qianxue could, and we respect her. But she’s a high-level cultivator, and by the rules, she can’t interfere without permission. So that’s irrelevant. As for the rest of you—useless!”

In the middle of the crowd, a petite girl with flowing hair and a face more adorable than beautiful silently wept.

The onlookers were both heartbroken and furious.

Someone nearby tried to comfort her, “Don’t worry, Wen Rou. Your brother will be here soon, and he’ll definitely beat them all down!”

The Elite Martial Arts Hall group sneered, “We won’t make a fuss about you calling for outside help. We’ll wait right here and see just who this Wen Rou’s brother is!”

“The Cultivation Academy is pathetic. Below high level, not one of you can fight, yet you mock us martial artists for being crude? Laughable!”

Just then, a ripple of commotion ran through the crowd as everyone looked toward the Academy gates.

Many immediately perked up, but their expressions quickly turned complicated.

He’s here again!

This time, though, their resistance was tinged with a hint of anticipation.

The Elite Martial Arts Hall youths turned to follow their gaze and saw a tall, handsome boy over six feet, slouching in an oversized vest and baggy shorts, shuffling along in his slippers.

His hair was still damp, his face flushed with sweat, and he was chatting and laughing with Qian Qianxue, the Academy’s pride, as they strolled in lazily.

Well, mostly Song Yue chatting and laughing, with Qian Qianxue quietly listening.

“This is it?” the Elite Martial Arts Hall group burst out laughing.

Their eyes brimmed with contempt.

After the laughter, some faces turned cold—they saw this as an insult.

Bringing out someone like this to oppose them—were they being mocked?

Wen Rou’s eyes lit up the moment she saw Song Yue, though her cheeks were still wet with tears. She beamed, calling out in her soft, gentle voice, “Brother!”

Song Yue’s heart ached at the sight.

Ignoring everyone else, he went straight to Wen Rou. “Are you alright?”

Wen Rou shook her head, “I’m fine, Brother. It’s just that so many of my classmates got beaten up. They’re worse than you… I mean, that’s not what I meant—they’re just really bad, and they didn’t hold back.”

Song Yue ruffled her hair gently. “It’s alright. Your brother is bad too.”

He turned and faced the Elite Martial Arts Hall group.

Martial artists might be looked down on, but they were a massive community—indeed, the backbone of society.

Most city security squads were made up of martial artists.

The Elite Martial Arts Hall was the most prestigious martial arts school in Hangzhou—no question.

It was a sacred place in the hearts of martial artists throughout Hangzhou and the entire country.

In theory, as a fellow martial artist, Song Yue shouldn’t be fighting his own kind.

But they should never have bullied such a sweet girl like Wen Rou.

“Chasing a girl isn’t done this way,” Song Yue said seriously to the boys from the Elite Martial Arts Hall. “People say martial artists are crude, but I disagree.”

His words gave the hot-blooded youths pause—some even looked thoughtful.

But someone quickly retorted, “Martial artists don’t play games. We’re not picking fights for no reason. The cultivators mocked us first, saying we were too crude to deserve their little junior. Why should we take that?”

“Yeah, they looked down on us, so we fought!”

“What’s the problem with that?”

“And who are you to meddle? If you’ve got the guts, come at us—save us the lecture!”

Their jeers reignited the passions of the crowd, and one by one, hostile eyes fixed on Song Yue.

In those stares, Song Yue saw a familiar challenge—“Want to fight?”

He sighed and glanced at the Cultivation Academy students, their expressions a tangled mess.

“Honestly, these students here at the Academy are pretty much asking for a beating,” he said.

Qian Qianxue’s face darkened instantly.

I brought you here to stand up for Wen Rou, not to betray us!

“But…” Song Yue clicked his tongue, looking at the group, “Only I get to beat them up. Not you.”