“Huh? What's going on?” Harry Huang, who was hiding in the woods spying on them, looked puzzled. According to the plan, today's operation had three steps. Step one: call and apologize to erase Sophie Soo's negative impression of him. Step two: send a mob to intimidate the pair—the pretty boy would panic and flee, the gorgeous girl would be left desperate and helpless. Step three: yours truly would swoop in like a hero, punch out the thugs, and save the damsel in distress.
And just like that, the pretty boy’s reputation would be ruined, and yours truly would shine brighter than ever. A few sweet words in the evening, and I’d have the beauty in my bed!
But what’s happening now? Sure, a bunch of guys did go up looking all fierce, but nothing happened. The pretty boy didn’t run, the beauty didn’t scream—they just stood there and said a few words. Then, those men who surrounded them started shivering like leaves in the wind, scared out of their wits. After that, the so-called villain just strolled away with Sophie Soo, leaving behind a bunch of guys frozen like logs.
Once Sophie Soo and her companion were out of sight, Harry Huang couldn’t hold back and jumped out, confronting the group of dejected men. “What’s wrong with you guys? How hard could this be? Scare the pretty boy, then let me play the hero—how hard is that? Aren’t you supposed to be students at 211 University? Where’s your IQ?” His brilliant scheme had failed, and Stew Pot was fuming, unleashing a tirade at the tall, skinny guy: “I’m telling you, if you don’t get this done for Harry Huang, you can forget about surviving at this school!”
Fuming, Stew Pot pointed at the men: “You, you, and you—look at you losers! Your tuition’s all covered by the state, and if you don’t get a scholarship, you won’t even have money for food! Listen up, I’m very disappointed, and the consequences are serious. From now on, you’re not getting any scholarships! You lowlifes, just wait to starve!”
Just as Stew Pot was in the middle of his spit-flying rant, suddenly—smack! A crisp sound rang out. The tall, skinny guy had actually slapped him across the face.
Stew Pot’s shouting came to an abrupt halt. He stared wide-eyed at the tall guy, utterly shocked. “W-wow, you’ve got some nerve!” Stew Pot squeezed out the words from deep in his throat, veins bulging on his neck. “You’re dead meat!”
But the tall guy didn’t look pleased at all—instead, he stared at his own hand in disbelief, stammering, “H-Harry, it wasn’t me, I swear!” And just as he said that, his right hand swung out like lightning and slapped Stew Pot on the other cheek.
“Still saying it’s not you!” Stew Pot was nearly in tears. “I’ll fight you for real!”
No sooner had he finished, when suddenly all the guys around him raised their hands and started pummeling him with wild punches. The one getting beaten screamed, and the ones doing the beating looked terrified too. Everyone felt wronged, everyone felt innocent. But nobody noticed the tiny paper pellets shooting out of the dark roadside woods, hitting people one by one.
The next few days were pretty quiet. Stew Pot seemed to vanish, and the rest of the pests were swiftly dealt with by Sophie Soo. She practiced a few more times with the choir girls, then dove headfirst into her epic finals. Meanwhile, Jack Young focused on training his Wheel Pulse technique—his super sense of taste getting sharper, clearly reaching a new level.
But even now, he’d only retrained up to the Throat Wheel—there was still room to go further.
On the day Sophie finished her main exams, Stew Pot reappeared, looking like he’d recovered from his injuries. Sophie came home with a sour face and explained the situation to Jack. Turns out Stew Pot wanted to host a banquet to apologize to Jack and Sophie, and he’d even invited Sophie’s three roommates—apparently, he’d harassed them plenty too. Stew Pot laid on the sweet talk and promised a whole bunch of “improvements for the Foreign Languages Student Council and extra funding,” but if Sophie refused, he’d just keep calling non-stop.
With no other choice, Sophie asked her three roommates what they thought. The girls figured that instead of dragging things out, they should go for a knockout blow and make him give up for good. So, Young Master Huang hosted a night banquet on Chunxi Road, and the Four Little Swans joined forces to take him on. Naturally, Jack Young, as the designated tank, had to dress up and come along.
“Cousin, you really never care about your looks. Today, I’m giving you a full makeover—let’s crush Stew Pot to dust!” Sophie headed out after lunch, dragging Jack to a fancy clothing store on the shopping street. Jack just shrugged, “Money’s no issue, pick whatever you want.” After an afternoon of comparing and shopping, Sophie finally put together a casual outfit for him.
When Jack stepped out of the dressing room in his new white outfit, the salesgirl stared at him, blushing hard. It wasn’t until Sophie blocked her view with a grumpy face that the salesgirl snapped out of it, coughed awkwardly, and showered Jack with praise. Sophie just snorted, then happily hugged Jack’s arm: “See? Clothes really do make the man. You look way more dazzling now, ‘darling’!”
Jack checked himself out in the mirror, hmm, he did look a bit sharper. He patted Sophie’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go buy you some clothes too.”
“Huh?” Sophie was surprised and delighted. “Really? Isn’t that a bit much?”
“Don’t mention money in front of a rich guy—if you do, it means you’re looking down on me.” Jack grabbed Sophie’s hand. “Come on, buying my ‘darling’ a new outfit is totally normal. Let’s go.” As Jack led her away, Sophie’s cheeks turned pink and she smiled with delight.
At six thirty in the evening, Jack and Sophie arrived at the spot Harry Huang had mentioned. The three roommates were already there. The girl with glasses came out to greet them after Sophie called, and when she saw the two, she couldn’t help but exclaim, “Wow—!” drawing everyone’s attention. Sophie wore a pale moon-colored dress, white boots, a sheer white scarf, and a classic hair accessory—she looked elegant and noble, like a moon goddess. Standing with Jack, also dressed in white, they made a perfect pair.
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“Sophie, you look absolutely stunning—like a goddess!” The girl with glasses nearly popped her lenses with excitement. “Old Geng, you look pretty sharp too. Actually, you’re the one who’s changed the most. I never noticed before, but now that you’re dressed up, you look really great!” The three roommates had started calling Jack Young ‘Old Geng’ along with Sophie.
“Of course!” Sophie struck a queenly pose, one hand on her hip and the other snapping open a white feather fan to cover the lower half of her face, laughing with royal flair: “Oh ho ho ho, he’s the man I’ve chosen—naturally, he’s one in a million!”
Meanwhile, Stew Pot was completely dumbstruck, staring at Sophie with a piggish look until someone blocked his view and he snapped back, sucking in his drool. Who the heck blocked me from seeing the beauty? He looked up and saw Jack Young giving him a knowing, amused look. Stew Pot was now traumatized by Jack, so he nervously stepped back, then forced a smile: “Everyone, please come in—tonight we have a very special guest.”
A special guest? Sophie wondered to herself, who could it be with all this mystery? But thinking about it, what kind of decent friends could Stew Pot possibly have? Birds of a feather and all that—his dream guests were probably just more hotpot and stew. “By the way, where are those two?” She hadn’t seen the loli and the cool older girl since they arrived—where’d they go?
“Oh, they’re in the private room, having a lively chat with the guest.” The girl with glasses snickered. “Who knows, maybe they’ve already eaten him alive.”
“Oh?” So this mysterious guest wasn’t just hotpot and stew after all. If the loli and the cool older girl were this interested, he must be something special.
They walked down the hallway and stopped in front of a fairly fancy private room. Pushing open the door, they saw the loli and the cool older girl flanking a man. He wasn’t striking at first glance, but he had a gentle, refined air about him. Nothing flashy, but Jack Young’s expression changed—he sensed something similar to Mr. Tang. Especially those eyes—not as dazzling as Mr. Tang’s, but with a look that seemed to see through everything.
That feeling—that confidence from the inside out. In a word: master.
But while Mr. Tang was like a martial arts grandmaster with hidden strength, this guy was more like a well-read scholar with poetry in his soul.
This man was no ordinary person.
As Jack Young looked at him, the man turned and met Jack’s gaze. In that instant, the man was moved too. Then, with a warm, breezy smile, he stood up: “Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m Mr. Huang’s psychologist, here tonight at his invitation. My surname is Zhuo, and my name is Ethan Zhuo.”