“You!” Zhou Yi’s voice was trembling.
“Extinguish the fire immediately!
Otherwise, I will expel you!”
Lin Yaoyang stood in place, his Corona Sword pointing diagonally at the ground, golden flames swirling around his body.
He looked at Zhou Yi, his tone calm and cold.
“Old hag Zhou.”
This form of address caused everyone to gasp.
“Harshness is not teaching, and brutality is even less befitting of a Teacher.
The academy trains Spirit Masters, not obedient Puppets.”
Zhou Yi’s face turned bright red, though it was unclear if it was from the flames or from rage.
“You—!”
She took a deep breath, a glint of ruthlessness flashing in her eyes.
Just then!
“Enough!”
A majestic voice suddenly thundered out!
A silvery-white figure instantly appeared in the center of the classroom, blocking the space between Lin Yaoyang and Zhou Yi.
It was the director of discipline, Director Du Weilun.
His expression was grim as his gaze swept across the classroom.
The shattered podium, the scorched floor, the twisted and deformed desks and chairs…
Then, his gaze landed on Zhou Yi.
“Zhou Yi, as a Teacher, how could you strike a student?”
Upon seeing Director Du Weilun, Zhou Yi hurriedly restrained her aura, though the anger on her face had not yet completely faded: “Director Du, he was the one who didn’t follow the rules first.
I only struck out to discipline him and teach him a lesson!”
“Didn’t follow the rules?” Director Du Weilun’s brows furrowed.
“He talked back to a Teacher, and also…”
“Talked back?” Director Du Weilun’s voice turned cold.
“Why did I hear that you were the one who first made the entire class run laps if they hadn’t fought, and when this student questioned you, you used your Soul Power to suppress him?”
Zhou Yi was stunned.
At this moment, two more Teachers hurried to the classroom door.
They had been brought by Wang Dong.
They had originally rushed over upon hearing that Zhou Yi was about to attack a student, but seeing that the director of discipline was already present, they breathed a sigh of relief and stood at the door without entering.
Director Du Weilun stopped looking at Zhou Yi and turned to face Lin Yaoyang.
His expression and tone were completely different from a moment ago, even carrying a hint of gentleness.
“Student Lin, are you injured?”
Hearing this from the side, Zhou Yi’s eyes widened round.
She was still being scorched, the pain making her face turn pale.
She was clearly the one who was injured, yet Director Du Weilun was asking someone who was completely unscathed whether they were injured?
Was there no justice left in this world?!
Lin Yaoyang glanced at Director Du Weilun, his brows slightly furrowed.
“No.”
Director Du Weilun nodded, the smile on his face deepening slightly: “That’s good, that’s good.”
Just then, another figure flew directly into the classroom.
His clothes were as white as snow, and his temperament was scholarly, but at this moment, there was not a trace of a scholarly look on his face; it was so gloomy that water could practically drip from it.
It was the Dean, Dean Yan Shaozhe.
His gaze swept across the classroom.
The students trembling in the corner, the two people confronting each other in the middle, and the desks, chairs, and floor scorched by flames all around made his expression increasingly ugly.
But when his gaze landed on Lin Yaoyang and he saw him standing there safe and sound, seemingly without even a single injury on his body, he secretly breathed a sigh of relief in his heart.
Fortunately, he was fine.
Then he turned to Zhou Yi, his gaze falling on the golden flames still burning on her body, his pupils slightly constricting.
What kind of flame was this?
With Zhou Yi’s cultivation level as a Spirit Emperor, she actually couldn’t extinguish it?
“What are you still standing there for?” Dean Yan Shaozhe said in a deep voice, “Extinguish the fire!”
The two Teachers finally reacted, hurriedly stepping forward to use their Soul Power to help Zhou Yi extinguish the flames on her body.
After quite a bit of effort, those golden flames were finally extinguished.
The skin under Zhou Yi’s clothes had been scorched black, and much of her hair had been burned off, leaving her in a disheveled and miserable state.
Zhou Yi stood in place, trembling all over, unsure if it was from anger or pain.
She glared at Lin Yaoyang through gritted teeth, wishing she could swallow this ignorant, arrogant brat alive.
But with Dean Yan Shaozhe and Director Du Weilun both here, she knew it was impossible to make another move against this brat today.
“Dean Yan, Director Du,” Zhou Yi took a deep breath, trying hard to make her voice sound calmer, “This student has no respect for his elders, openly talked back to a Teacher, and even struck a Teacher.
According to the academy rules, he should…”
“Enough.” Dean Yan Shaozhe raised his hand to interrupt her.
His tone was light, but it carried an unquestionable majesty.
“I will investigate the course of events clearly.
You should go back and treat your injuries first.”
Zhou Yi opened her mouth, wanting to say something more, but meeting Dean Yan Shaozhe’s eyes, which were as calm as a still pond without a ripple, she swallowed the words back.
She gritted her teeth and turned to walk out of the classroom.
When passing by Lin Yaoyang, her footsteps paused for a moment, and she turned her head to glance at him.
In that gaze, there was anger, resentment, but more so, a kind of complex scrutiny.
Then she walked away without looking back.
The classroom quieted down.
Dean Yan Shaozhe looked at Lin Yaoyang, his gaze lingering on his Spirit for a moment, a flash of imperceptible amazement passing through his eyes.
Then he revealed a gentle smile.
“Student Lin Yaoyang, is it?”
Lin Yaoyang retracted his Spirit, and the Corona Sword dissipated into golden light, the flames around his body also gradually extinguishing.
He looked at Dean Yan Shaozhe and nodded slightly.
“That is me.”
Dean Yan Shaozhe’s smile became even gentler: “No need to be nervous.
The academy will handle today’s matter fairly.
You should go back and rest first; if you need anything, you can come to find me at any time.”
Lin Yaoyang nodded, not saying anything more.
He turned and walked toward the outside of the classroom.
Wang Dong hurried to follow him.
When passing the doorway, she secretly looked back at Dean Yan Shaozhe, then looked at Lin Yaoyang’s back, muttering to herself.
This treatment—the difference is too huge, right?
…
In the corridor.
Wang Dong trotted to catch up with Lin Yaoyang’s pace.
“Hey,” she lowered her voice, “You just now…
were too fierce, right?
That’s a Spirit Emperor!
Weren’t you afraid she would really cripple you?”
Lin Yaoyang didn’t stop walking, saying indifferently: “She doesn’t dare.”
“Why?”
“Because I have more value than she does.” Lin Yaoyang’s tone was as flat as if he were discussing a very ordinary matter.
Wang Dong was stunned for a moment, then realized.
A twelve-year-old Spirit Ancestor, a spirit ring configuration of three purple and one black, and that unheard-of Spirit.
A Genius like this couldn’t be found a second time in the entire Shrek.
How could the academy let Zhou Yi cripple him?
“Besides,” Lin Yaoyang added, “Even if she really dared to make a move, I wouldn’t necessarily lose.”
Wang Dong: “…”
Alright, you’re impressive.
The two walked out of the teaching building, one after the other.
Wang Dong looked at his back and suddenly felt that this person seemed really quite impressive.
No, not quite.
He was very impressive.
She pursed her lips and quickened her pace to follow.
Evening.
Lin Yaoyang was walking on the path leading to the office of the director of discipline.
His expression was calm, his pace unhurried, as if the person being called to the office wasn’t him, but someone else.
Zhou Yi had been beaten, so the academy definitely needed an explanation.
Calling him to the office could only mean one of two possibilities: either appeasement or a warning.
And given the talent he had displayed today, the former was more likely.
He arrived in front of the office door and raised his hand to knock.
“Come in.”
Lin Yaoyang pushed the door open and entered.
The office was more spacious than imagined.
Against the wall was a row of bookshelves filled with various documents and books.
In the center was a wide desk, the surface of which was neat and tidy.
In the reception area to the side, a set of sofas was placed, with a tea set on the coffee table, the fragrance of tea curling in the air.
Two people were sitting on the sofa.
Director of discipline, Director Du Weilun, was sitting on one side, dressed in silver-white robes, his expression gentle and steady.
And the man in white sitting in the main seat—Lin Yaoyang recognized him—was the person who had appeared last in the classroom that morning.
Dean of the Martial Soul Department, Dean Yan Shaozhe.