A cheerful mood.
He reached out and ruffled the "husky's" head.
"Mm!"
The girl covered her head and stepped back.
"We're both guys, don't be so stingy." An Zhen handed her a second cup of milk tea.
The milky-white liquid spread its sweetness across her tongue, dissolving her displeasure. Pale fists clenched then relaxed, ending with a soft "hmph!" before she turned away, drinking the tea as if sucking the blood of a certain someone.
The youthful campus never lacked couples. Though just an extra straw, the symbolism made "couple sets" fly off the shelves.
"Well, Head Prefect, watching juniors so affectionate—quite heartwarming, no?" After dragging an unwilling Wang Dong over to make tea, An Zhen sidled up to Zhang Lexuan. Hands behind his back, he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her, radiating avuncular approval.
"You seem to know things."
The serene woman's voice remained placid. As a Soul Douluo, she'd clearly seen An Zhen's eyebrow raise when handing out the first couple's set.
"Perhaps Head Prefect's expression faltered when seeing someone." The boy grinned.
What ill intent could an eleven-year-old have?
Childhood friends lose to sudden encounters.
"I came for you."
Eyes closed as if resetting her emotions, she reopened them to enunciate each word.
"Oh, I'm flattered."
An Zhen's smile didn't reach his eyes. Try again.
"Your Martial Soul is powerful. I wish to understand it. The academy could design a tailored growth plan—you might even apprentice under the Gluttony Douluo."
Zhang Lexuan spoke rapidly, impressive lung capacity on display. She believed no one would refuse such an offer.
"Not interested."
"Why?"
The tranquil beauty's voice held rare emotion. "You may not grasp what this means. The academy can select the perfect soul beasts from thousands. You know how crucial fitting soul rings are."
"Do you know where my soul rings came from?"
"What?"
"A 400-year Soft Bone Rabbit. An 800-year Blue Silver Grass."
Zhang Lexuan: "..."
Typically, dragon Martial Souls required dragon-blooded soul beasts—ideally sub-dragons or golden dragons. Her mind raced through knowledge archives, finding zero connection between rabbits, grass, and the concept of "World." Yet An Zhen's first soul ring was undeniably potent—clearly not a mistake.
"I don't need 'suitable' soul beasts. Unless Shrek can shatter a world and make it drop a soul ring for me, I only care about年限. My soul skills awaken as my Martial Soul's inherent abilities."
An Zhen felt he'd shared enough with a near-stranger.
"So." The boy lifted dark eyes to the beauty before him. "Anything else, Head Prefect?"
"I wish to understand your Martial Soul and soul skills."
An Zhen rolled his eyes.
An Zhen avoids strange older women.
——
Later, a Super Douluo randomly spawned at the campus gate tea stand.
"Elder Xuan, does Shrek have a law enforcement squad?" An Zhen whispered.
"Why ask, kid?"
"I'm being harassed."
The handsome youth gazed pitifully at the powerhouse like a drowning man clutching driftwood. "An adult over a decade older keeps pursuing me, asking invasive personal questions."
Slurp!
The elder sucked down milk tea, drowsy eyes sharpening into a lion's glare. "Who?!"
As captain of Shrek's Supervision Corps, such perversion at the school gates—even if his specialty was evil soul masters—was a slap to his face!
"Their status is... considerable," An Zhen hedged.
"Even a Titled Douluo gets slapped into the dirt!"
"Her. Right there."
An Zhen pointed at the serene beauty standing silently in the distance.
Thwack!
"Ow!"
An Zhen crouched, clutching his head.
"Don't push your luck, brat."
The disheveled elder tossed the remark over his shoulder, done with the troublemaker.
"But it's true!"
An Zhen's grievance found no sympathy.
——
Martial Souls and soul skills were deeply personal secrets. Only this academy's camaraderie made public sharing acceptable. Intel decided battles—even wars. Knowing an opponent's abilities allowed tailored countermeasures, tipping chaotic fights toward victory.
——
An hour later, Xu Sanshi dutifully queued to buy a cup. Rumor said he'd worked a day job to earn money for Jiang Nannan's tea.
Inspirational.
An Zhen was moved—to charge 600% profit.
——
Packing up, they returned to the dorms. Wang Dong went comic-book shopping.
Money Laundering Complete.
Profit Distribution.
After material costs, each took one-third. An Zhen marveled at his own generosity toward employees.
——
Washed up, An Zhen lay in bed and activated his Martial Soul.
After the first time, pulling consciousnesses into his virtual world was effortless. The Martial Soul would handle the transfer automatically.
Placing both beauties on the bed, he dressed them in T-shirts, shorts—and long hair.
One petite and cute, the other ethereal and dreamlike.
After consideration, An Zhen waved a hand. Semi-transparent white stockings appeared on their legs—thin as cicada wings, white tinged with pink. Against their fair skin, it accentuated purity like cream on fresh bread.
"Would certain... activities accelerate this?"
Scientific inquiry demanded experimentation.
Plus, he hadn't had a midnight snack.
Time for dessert.
——
Eyes fluttered open. Familiar ceiling. Familiar company.
"An Zhen, you're so slow!" Wang Dong complained.
"Haste makes waste."
"You're just not fast!"
"When you're older, you'll appreciate slowness."
For males, this was a grave matter.
"You talk like you're ancient!"
"Hm?"
Wang Dong noticed something odd.
Why were her toes damp? The white silk clung tightly.
"No water here..." she muttered, puzzled.
An Zhen lightly touched his own lips.
White silk did make one drool.
Rosy-cheeked Huo Yutong curled her toes, watching An Zhen with unspoken understanding. The girl recalled past incidents—Brother An Zhen's particular preferences.
"An Zhen, what is this liquid?"
Wang Dong curiously poked her toe.
Why was it... sticky?
(End of Chapter)