The twin girls each held onto the arms of the young man with double pupils, but he ignored Tang San entirely. His gaze swept past Xiao Wu, and for a split second, a strange light flickered in his eyes—there and gone.
Arriving at the counter, the youth said to the clerk, "You must be new, right? Haven't you learned there's always a room held for me?"
The clerk quickly bowed. "I'm sorry, Young Master Dai, you haven't visited for a while—I must've forgotten."
He then turned to Tang San and Xiao Wu, apologetic. "Sorry, dear guests, but this room is already reserved for Young Master Dai. I'm afraid you'll have to choose another."
Tang San frowned but didn't want to make a scene; he was no stranger to letting things go. With so many hotels, missing out on one wasn't a big deal.
Xiao Wu, on the other hand, wasn't having it.
"Pfft! What a snob. Just because we're young doesn't mean you can push us around. We booked this room first, so I say we don't budge! What's he going to do, make us leave? Let's see him try!"
At last, the double-pupil youth turned his icy, uncanny gaze on Xiao Wu and nodded slowly. "Well, it's been a long time since anyone's talked to me like that. You both have soul power, so you must be soul masters. Fine—come at me together. If you can beat me, I'll leave immediately. Otherwise, I expect you to show me how well you can 'leave.'"
The girls beside him burst into giggles, not a trace of worry on their faces. They obediently let go of his arms and stepped aside.
Just then, the clerk hurriedly returned, leading a middle-aged man out from the back. He'd obviously overheard the exchange and wore an expression of anxious dread.
"Please, everyone, let's be civil here, no fighting—please!" he pleaded.
The double-pupil youth—Dai Mubai—cast him a sidelong glare. "Manager Wang, your team's getting sloppy these days—business is sure falling off."
Wang wiped sweat from his brow and managed a strained smile. "Young Master Dai, you mustn't say that; it's our staff's fault. The new boy didn't know the rules, I apologize! I'll arrange your room right away!"
Dai Mubai snorted. "Save the babbling. You insult me but expect to walk away unscathed? Let's fight—and any damages are my responsibility."
Xiao Wu, long reigning as queen bee at Nuoding Academy, had never swallowed this kind of humiliation. She was just about to jump in when Tang San stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
"Let me handle it."
"Why? I was going to make him run with his tail between his legs!"
Tang San frowned, "You're a girl, remember to mind your words. Didn't I promise I'd always protect you?" He didn't want Xiao Wu fighting, not just for politeness, but out of concern for her safety. Even if he lost, he'd never let her get hurt.
Xiao Wu's indignant face softened, and she glanced at Tang San, "Fine. Be careful then."
"There's no need for all this—like I said, fight me together," Dai Mubai said impatiently, watching the pair's tender exchange with mounting irritation.
Tang San stepped forward with steady composure. "Please—show me your strength."
Just as the two prepared to clash, the doors swung open again and another youth strode inside. He paid no mind to the tension in the lobby, walked straight up to the counter, and announced, "I'd like a room."
He was dressed in pure white, his long ink-black hair cascading down to his waist—unhurried, unflustered, completely self-possessed. His features were ordinary, but those deep black eyes were so beautiful and magnetic they seemed to breathe life into an otherwise plain face, lending him a mysterious and undeniable charisma.
"Uh—sorry, sir," the clerk said after a stunned moment, "there's only one room left, but…" His words trailed off, his meaning obvious as he glanced anxiously at the brewing showdown between Dai Mubai and Tang San.
"So that's the situation…" The black-haired youth nodded and glanced over at the two soul masters. "You two are fighting over the room?"
"Hmph! You want in too?" Dai Mubai had disliked this new arrival ever since he walked in unfazed. Arms folded, he shot back, "You're probably a soul master, aren't you? Beat me, the room's yours."
"Beat you?" the black-haired youth—Yunchuan—showed a playful gleam in his eyes. "Sure. If you're looking for a beating, let me help with that."
'Perfect, time to collect some interest.'
Years ago, reading the novel, Yunchuan had never liked this "Evil-Eyed White Tiger"—abandoning his fiancée, running off to indulge himself while others suffered. He'd always thought there was nothing wrong with being a playboy (he was one too), but at least a man should shoulder some responsibility. To leave his betrothed in danger while he partied in some remote town? That was inexcusable.
To Yunchuan, Dai Mubai simply didn't deserve Zhu Zhuqing.
Because of the timing—when Yunchuan had joined Shrek, Dai Mubai had been off "having fun"—he didn't recognize that the other young man was a new instructor at his academy.
Seeing the fresh face, Dai Mubai sneered, "Hah, big words. I hope your strength lives up to your mouth!"
He flexed, then—
"White Tiger, possess!"
Suddenly, a fierce white light burst forth from him. Dai Mubai stretched his arms wide, chest thrust out, as his bones collectively snapped and shifted; muscle swelled, clothing grew taut, and the very air around him seemed to bristle with power.
His blonde hair turned stark white with streaks of black. Four distinct lines—three horizontal, one vertical—etched across his forehead in the shape of the king character, "王."
His hands doubled in size, now covered in white fur and tipped with claws like daggers, each easily eight inches long and shining with icy killing intent.
Crouched low, all four demonic eyes glimmered blue—like a machine built for destruction. Three soul rings pulsed from his feet: two yellow, one purple, radiating waves of soul power that flooded the hall with pressure.
"Millennium soul ring!" Xiao Wu exclaimed, instantly grateful she hadn't tried to fight him. Anyone their age with three rings, one of them a millennium ring, was in a league of their own.
Dai Mubai—a White Tiger Soul Master at rank thirty-seven.
A Soul Master with a powerful beast martial soul.
"I am Dai Mubai. Martial soul: White Tiger. Thirty-seven ranked Soul Master. Please—show me what you've got."
Amidst the surging pressure, Yunchuan's expression remained tranquil; he was a rank seventy-nine Soul Saint, all seven soul rings fully black—an irregular genius, closer in power to a Titled Douluo than any Soul Master. Dai Mubai's aura didn't even cause a ripple.
He showed a quiet, serene smile as he raised one hand—where a simple strand of Blue Silver Grass emerged.
"Tang Chuan, martial soul: Blue Silver Grass. As for my rank… if I told you, I'm afraid you'd be shocked speechless."
At his side, Xiao Wu tugged Tang San's sleeve. "Hey, his martial soul is Blue Silver Grass too! And his surname is Tang. Could you guys be brothers?"
"How could that be?" Tang San muttered, half exasperated, half amused. "Blue Silver Grass is considered useless, and it's common everywhere. Soul Masters with this martial soul are rare enough. It's just a coincidence."
Still, as Tang San stared at the Blue Silver Grass in the stranger's palm, he felt a strange sense of closeness—like kinship. It was so odd, even though he'd just met the boy. He decided it must be the martial soul—he'd never met anyone else with Blue Silver Grass before, so it made sense to feel a connection. The surname… probably a coincidence.
Seeing the white-robed youth refuse to declare his soul rank, Dai Mubai felt slighted, his anger rising. In Douluo, not reporting your rank to an opponent before a duel was a sign of contempt.
Dai Mubai laughed coldly, "Blue Silver Grass—a trash martial soul. Making it as a soul master is already a stroke of luck, but the highest you could possibly be is a Grandmaster. You must be ashamed and hiding your rank!"
Yunchuan shrugged unconcernedly, "Think what you want. Ready to go?"
He was entirely indifferent to Dai Mubai's hostility. Without Tang San's protagonist aura, this guy would never become a god—he'd likely die at his brother's hands and drag Zhu Zhuqing down with him.
For Yunchuan, there was no thought of making peace. Not killing Dai Mubai was simply because the man was weak; it wasn't worth the trouble.
(End of Chapter)