After an hour, Jiang Feng found the administrative building and completed enrollment.
Director Wang Hai was unusually warm, especially when Jiang Feng requested a library card. Wang dispatched someone to expedite it, and within ten minutes, a fresh card was in Jiang Feng’s hands.
Wang was courteous, so Jiang Feng thanked him politely. But when Wang suggested meeting the counselor to discuss the new semester—likely due to Jiang Feng’s frequent absences last term—Jiang Feng declined. Wang, as director, couldn’t meddle in the counselor’s domain, but Jiang Feng had no intention of explaining himself.
Though he’d followed Jiang Dai’er’s advice to enroll on the first day, Jiang Feng wasn’t here to be a model student. His goal was Yanjing University’s vast library, which explained his insistence on the card despite Wang’s odd reaction. Everything else? Irrelevant.
He’d passed the library while searching for the administrative building and headed there now. Just as he approached, the black Lotus sports car from the gate roared up, stopping beside him.
The door opened, revealing a woman in a flowing white dress and a burly young man. The girl’s face was serene and refined, her delicate features flawless, her figure graceful. The white dress enhanced her ethereal charm, making her seem like a blooming lotus—calm, tranquil, though her beautiful eyes held a trace of aloofness.
Jiang Feng felt a flicker of recognition. As Young Master Jiang, he’d crossed paths with her a few times—forgetting her would be out of character. Beside her stood a stark contrast: a young man nearly two meters tall, muscles bulging under thin summer clothes, looming like a mountain next to her delicate frame. He exuded raw intimidation, standing out even in the north.
The man’s short-cropped hair and rugged demeanor lacked distinct features, giving a slightly foolish impression. But his sharp, sword-like gaze warned against underestimating him. Jiang Feng knew better—Guo Conghu was infamous, his reckless deeds outstripping even Jiang Feng’s own. They’d met before, and Guo Conghu’s bold style left an impression.
From Guo Conghu’s stance and gait as he stepped out, Jiang Feng could tell: this guy was a master.
Guo Conghu sized Jiang Feng up, flashing a toothy grin that made him look sillier. His words, though, were grating. “Hey, Young Master Jiang, don’t tell me you’re here to read?”
“Problem?” Jiang Feng replied coolly.
“Big problem. You, reading? Think I’m a toddler?” Guo Conghu’s eyes widened like bells.
Jiang Feng smiled, unbothered by Guo Conghu’s rudeness, and turned to leave. Two steps in, Guo Conghu blocked him.
“Kid, you’re awfully cocky,” Guo Conghu said, irked.
Normally, Jiang Feng scurried away like a frightened mouse in his presence, but now he dared ignore him?
“What do you want?” Jiang Feng asked, displeased. He didn’t want trouble on his first day, but he wasn’t scared.
“Heh, what do I want? Stalking our young miss, tailing her to the library, loitering here to play the brooding romantic, huh? When’d you get so clever?” Guo Conghu drawled, his rugged face gleaming with menace.
“Stalking? Tailing?” Jiang Feng laughed. The accusation was absurd—a baseless disaster. “You’re mistaken.”
“No mistake!” Guo Conghu snapped. He’d seen Jiang Feng’s ways, a notorious slacker who’d never set foot in a library unless scheming. Even a fool could see his game.
Guo Conghu’s hostility darkened Jiang Feng’s expression. “Step aside, or don’t blame me for what happens.”
Guo Conghu laughed as if he’d heard a joke. “Oh? Show me how you’ll make me regret it.”
To Guo Conghu, Jiang Feng was a weakling—easily crushed. The Jiang family might pose a slight hassle, but if Jiang Feng pushed him, Guo Conghu wouldn’t hesitate to strike hard. And this guy, chasing Ye Qingxuan and now his young miss? Utterly delusional, begging for death.
“Move!” Jiang Feng growled, done talking.
“You’re the one who’ll scram. I’m breaking your leg—any objections?” Guo Conghu taunted.
Jiang Feng’s brows shot up, his aura turning fierce.
Chen Siran’s heart skipped. Knowing Guo Conghu’s temper, she feared he’d actually cripple Jiang Feng. “Conghu, don’t go too far,” she warned.
Guo Conghu grinned at her, all innocence. “Young Miss, you know I never act rashly. I only hit those who deserve it. This guy’s playing stalker—I’ll see where he gets his nerve.”
“Conghu, you’re ignoring me now?” Chen Siran scolded.
She had no fondness for Jiang Feng and found his actions suspicious, but starting a fight without clear provocation wasn’t what she wanted.
“Miss, I swear I’m not reckless,” Guo Conghu said, his grin widening, teeth gleaming.
Unconvinced, Chen stepped forward to pull him back. As she moved, Guo Conghu acted.
An expert’s skill was unmistakable. Though Guo Conghu took only a casual step, his posture revealed volumes to Jiang Feng.
“Definitely strong,” Jiang Feng thought.
As Guo Conghu advanced, his presence intensified. His wide lips parted in a signature goofy grin, then his right foot shot up, aiming a brutal kick at Jiang Feng’s knee.
Guo Conghu meant to break Jiang Feng’s leg—no exaggeration. The kick whipped through the air with a whistling roar. Jiang Feng had no doubt: if it landed, his leg would snap in two.
Guo Conghu’s ruthlessness ignored Jiang Feng’s status as a Jiang family young master. The step forward had positioned him perfectly for maximum force—fast, vicious, leaving Jiang Feng no chance to block head-on.
Heart steady, Jiang Feng stepped back, and as he retreated, his right foot lashed out. In midair, a thick, powerful leg collided with a lean one in a ferocious clash.
Bang!
A muffled thud echoed. Guo Conghu stood unmoved.
Jiang Feng, striking second, was forced back a step by Guo Conghu’s innate strength, his body swaying.
“Huh?” Guo Conghu let out a surprised grunt, staring at Jiang Feng in disbelief. He’d expected Jiang Feng to collapse, wailing, but Jiang Feng had blocked him—retreating a step, yet unharmed.
This stunned Guo Conghu. Jiang Feng’s leg was thinner than his own arm—where did that strength come from?
Chen Siran was equally shocked. Unable to stop Guo Conghu, she’d braced for bloodshed, her calm heart rippling. She’d even closed her eyes, unwilling to see Jiang Feng writhe under Guo Conghu’s punishment. Yet Jiang Feng had held his own.
Was this really the Jiang family’s powerless waste? He didn’t match the rumors at all.
While Guo Conghu and Chen Siran were stunned, Jiang Feng felt only frustration. Against someone like Guo Conghu, in his prime, he’d crush him effortlessly. But now, giving his all to block, he’d still been pushed back. Worse, the impact left his calf twitching, nearly cramping.
“D*mn it,” he cursed inwardly.
Guo Conghu, straightforward, didn’t overthink the block. Thumbs up, he said, “Young Master Jiang, not bad. No wonder you tossed Jiang Jingyun out. But if that’s all you’ve got, you’re still dead. Again!”
Jiang Feng gave a wry smile—Guo Conghu was a battle maniac.
It made sense, though. Young Master Jiang was a known lecher and fool, unable to walk straight around beautiful women, causing trouble for many. Yet with Chen Siran, he had the desire but lacked the guts to act—not because her family ranked third among Yanjing’s seven great clans, nor because she wasn’t stunning. Her beauty rivaled Ye Qingxuan, Yanjing’s top beauty, with a unique charm that might even surpass her in some ways. The real reason was Guo Conghu, always at her side.
The circle called Guo Conghu “Dumb Tiger,” and he lived up to it—quick to fight at the slightest provocation, never holding back, fearless of anyone. Who’d dare cross him?
Still, Guo Conghu’s words ignited Jiang Feng’s temper. Lips curving, he said coolly, “Fine, again!”