The portly, dark-faced man was Lu Dawu, the warden of this dormitory building.
When Wei Yi had first arrived at the academy, Lu had learned of his identity as the young master of the Wei family. Eager to curry favor, he shamelessly flattered and fawned over him, managing to extract no small number of benefits in the process.
But once Wei Yi fell from grace, Lu Dawu turned on him without hesitation. Believing Wei Yi to be easy prey—unable to cultivate and thus devoid of any future—he began to harass him constantly, demanding tributes at every turn.
A vile scoundrel, through and through.
A treacherous cur who bites the hand that feeds.
As memories of Lu Dawu resurfaced, Wei Yi's eyes narrowed instinctively, a glint of resolve flashing within.
He had made up his mind.
"What did you just say? I didn't quite catch that—care to repeat it?"
Wei Yi's expression remained unchanged as he addressed him calmly.
Caught off guard by Wei Yi's unexpected composure, Lu Dawu froze. In the past, Wei Yi had either lashed out in fury or sunk into despair when provoked—never had he been this poised.
But so what if he was calm?
Trash is still trash. Could he possibly reverse his fate?
Lu Dawu sneered inwardly, utterly dismissive of Wei Yi as he strutted up and barked,
"I told you yesterday—there are only two options for you now."
"Either hand over five hundred taels of silver and stay in the dorm, or pack your things and find somewhere else to live."
"I seem to recall already paying my dorm fees," Wei Yi said evenly, his gaze sharp.
"You paid the academy. This silver goes to me," Lu Dawu replied with a self-righteous smirk. "I run this place day and night—I deserve compensation."
His eyes wandered greedily over Wei Yi's body before settling on the jade pendant at his waist. With a grin that barely masked his avarice, he added, "If you really have no silver, then hand over that jade pendant. Isn't it a Wei family heirloom? It should fetch a nice price. Not like you'll inherit anything anymore—you're a cripple now…"
He didn't get to finish.
Wei Yi's hand shot out, and with a sharp crack, he slapped Lu Dawu across the face.
Smack!
"You dare covet my ancestral jade? Filth like you?"
Lu Dawu hadn't anticipated the strike and took it full on, spinning in place.
"You…"
He stared, stunned, his head ringing—completely dumbfounded.
He had never imagined Wei Yi would strike.
To him, Wei Yi was a powerless failure—he'd bullied him countless times without resistance. And now… he dared fight back?
Fury ignited within Lu Dawu. The shame of being struck by someone he considered beneath him sent his rage soaring.
Ding! Player Wei Yi has slapped the scoundrel Lu Dawu. Cultivation experience +10.
Wei Yi blinked in surprise at the system prompt in his mind.
Even this granted cultivation experience?
A delightful surprise.
Without hesitation, he struck again.
"What's with that look? Think I won't do it again? Here's another for you!"
Smack!
Ding! Player Wei Yi has slapped the scoundrel Lu Dawu. Cultivation experience +10.
Lu Dawu still hadn't recovered. Though once a first-tier martial disciple, years of idle living had dulled his skills and fattened his frame. The second slap landed just as squarely.
"Wei Yi, you dare hit me? You've gone too far!"
Another slap.
"Still hitting?!"
Smack!
"Stop—"
Smack smack smack smack smack…
To a despicable ingrate like Lu Dawu, Wei Yi showed no mercy. Seizing his collar with one hand, he unleashed a barrage of slaps with the other, dragging him from the dormitory's upper floor to the courtyard below.
The surrounding students stood frozen, mouths agape.
Was this really Wei Yi?
The scene shattered every impression they had of him.
But Wei Yi didn't care.
He felt exhilarated—every blow vented years of pent-up humiliation. Better still, each strike boosted his cultivation.
Soon, the experience bar for a first-tier martial disciple filled.
Ding! Player Wei Yi has reached max experience for Tier One. Automatically promoted to Tier Two.
He couldn't help but smile.
With the advancement, power surged through his limbs.
"Stop! I was wrong! I swear I was wrong!"
"Brother Wei—Master Wei—Young Lord Wei… Please stop! I beg you…"
Lu Dawu was sobbing now, cheeks swollen, words muffled, tears and snot streaming down. All arrogance gone, he collapsed at Wei Yi's feet, pleading.
Wei Yi's smile was cold. "So you don't want the silver anymore?"
"No! No! Of course not!" Lu Dawu shook his head frantically.
"Then tell me—who put you up to this?"
"No one!" Lu Dawu stiffened, panic flashing in his eyes.
"No one? And yet you dared demand five hundred taels in one breath?" Wei Yi's voice dripped with scorn.
Lu Dawu had extorted before, but never so boldly. Someone was clearly behind him this time.
Wei Yi raised his hand again.
Pale with fear, Lu Dawu caved. "It was Sun Wenyuan! He told me to force you out of the academy! I swear I had no choice—I was threatened!"
"Hmph. Pathetic."
Just then, a cold snort rang out, and three figures stepped into view.
At their head—Sun Wenyuan himself, the very name Lu Dawu had just spoken.
A second-year student at True Martial Academy, a direct heir of the Sun family, and one of Wei Yi's long-standing foes.