Outside the Southland University cafeteria.
Andrew Han and Kevin Lin walked along the path back to their dormitory.
Wait for me, let’s go together.
Did you hear? The cafeteria introduced a new dish today, stir-fried tomatoes with pineapple. They say it tastes amazing.
The students chatted among themselves.
Andrew listened as he strolled with Kevin Lin, their conversation light and casual.
Actually.
He considered himself to have pretty high emotional intelligence.
At least, Andrew thought so. But now he wanted Kevin’s opinion: “Kevin, do you think I’m emotionally intelligent?”
“Of course,” Kevin answered instinctively.
Pa-da!
Andrew smiled and threw an arm around Kevin’s shoulder, speaking earnestly: “What did you just say? I didn’t catch that.”
“Of course you are.” Kevin replied with a hearty laugh.
That line was spoken with genuine feeling.
Kevin quietly reminded himself that this was truly how he felt—it wasn’t just flattery, and certainly had nothing to do with any threat of force.
Yet, somehow,
He discreetly wiped his forehead, recalling how when he first met Andrew, the guy was clearly a gentle, normal person. Now, though, something had definitely changed.
Nevertheless,
Kevin thought that a peerless prodigy should be just like this!
A so-called peerless prodigy, someone destined to overshadow all others—if his temperament were too gentle or weak, Kevin wouldn’t believe it.
Ha ha.
Andrew glanced at Kevin and shook his head, amused.
He, too, had noticed his own changes... Whether in mentality, personality, or in his way of thinking and measuring things, there had been definite shifts.
What does it mean to be peerless?
If one lacks the drive to dominate all, then even with peerless talent, one is doomed to mediocrity. This isn’t arrogance or pride—it’s an unyielding conviction.
More importantly—
Andrew could keenly feel his fused force surging within him. The Martial Artist realm was close—perhaps a day or two, at most a week, and he would break through.
His own unique peerless First Rank was overwhelmingly strong, and if he entered his Berserker State, it would be terrifying.
So then—
What if he became a peerless Martial Artist?
Andrew mused as he walked, side by side with Kevin Lin, until they reached the dormitory entrance.
Bzz, bzz.
Kevin Lin’s phone began to vibrate.
He pulled out his phone and glanced at it casually, intending to ignore the call—until he saw it was from President Zhang of Southland University.
Hello, President Zhang?
Kevin answered the call, blinking in surprise.
After just two sentences, he shot Andrew a look—his expression so odd that Andrew instinctively checked his own clothes, but found nothing amiss.
What is it?
Andrew asked, puzzled.
Ahem.
Kevin Lin coughed, covering the receiver: "Yesterday President Zhang called you, and even sent two texts... Why did you block him?"
Yesterday?
President Zhang?
Andrew instantly recalled what had happened.
Indeed, at noon yesterday, he’d received a call from an unfamiliar number, and even some texts, claiming to be the university president. But Andrew, being cautious, naturally didn’t believe it.
Over the years—
There had been no shortage of cases where freshmen fell for scams.
So Andrew hadn’t given it a second thought. He blocked the number without hesitation, even marveling at how childish scammers’ tactics had become.
......
Southland University, Academic Building.
The building was about five stories tall, with tall trees flanking the main entrance. Its exterior was clad in gray marble, giving it a stately appearance. The president’s office was on the fifth floor, simply decorated but steeped in culture.
Inside the office—
Calligraphy by famous figures and landscape paintings adorned the walls. The deep-brown desk looked a bit worn and aged, covered in scratches.
On the sofa—
Sat a spirited, black-haired elderly man wearing black-rimmed glasses. His complexion was rosy, his temples flecked with white, and he looked about sixty or seventy, with bright, lively eyes.
He was none other than President Zhang of Southland University.
Clink.
President Zhang picked up the teapot from the coffee table and brewed two cups of delicate tea. The exquisite blue-and-white porcelain cups were small and refined, radiating taste.
"Andrew Han."