The moment Yang Ruifeng finished speaking, Rong Xue’er couldn't hold it in anymore, letting out a small burst of laughter.

It was true that Wang Zhuo was a few years older than Yang Ruifeng, spoke without the local accent of Jiangzhou, and was indeed wearing a Kappa tracksuit today, even the hat sitting on the table bore a noticeable "butt-to-butt" logo. But to claim he couldn't afford a house or a car, was getting old and impractical—that was truly ridiculous!

Rong Xue’er’s burst of laughter immediately made the atmosphere in the private room turn somewhat strange. Yang Ruifeng and Fan Song didn't know why she was amused, but Wang Zhuo did. The expressions on the four faces were varied; each held their own thoughts.

"He's out of my league, but reachable for you?" Wang Zhuo pursed his lips, a half-smile playing on his face as he asked Yang Ruifeng, "Then tell me, besides being slightly taller and a bit better looking than me, what exactly makes you better than me?"

Rong Xue’er simply covered her mouth and snickered. Hearing someone as proud as Wang Zhuo admit that someone else was handsomer was genuinely amusing.

Fan Song scoffed, "Save it! What can you compare to Ruifeng? Haven't you looked in the mirror lately to see what you look like?"

"Where am I not better than you?" Yang Ruifeng chuckled, firing back immediately, "Then you tell me, where am I inferior to you?" "I take back what I just said," Wang Zhuo shook his head at Rong Xue’er and smiled wryly, "Actually, he’s not as handsome as me either. Look at the size of his face." "How dare you speak like that?" Yang Ruifeng’s expression instantly stiffened, carrying an imposing aura that suggested displeasure without needing to shout.

But Wang Zhuo cared little for the pitiful sense of superiority held by this privileged, wealthy young man. The second-generation officials or the rich kids who could truly put on airs in front of Wang Zhuo hadn't even been born yet!

"You think I’m rude? Didn't you call me 'Uncle'? I've always spoken this way to my juniors," Wang Zhuo said lightly, raising an eyebrow with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "What of it? Got a problem with that?"

Yang Ruifeng let out a cold snort and looked towards Fan Song, who immediately understood. He stepped forward and grabbed Wang Zhuo’s collar: "Are you taking yourself too seriously? Get out here! Let’s find a place to settle this!"

Wang Zhuo found it both surprising and amusing. It seemed these two youngsters usually had things their own way, daring to resort to fists at the drop of a hat. Did they have someone backing them up?

While thinking, his movements were far from slow. Just as Fan Song’s hand reached him, Wang Zhuo slapped down and seized Fan Song’s wrist, twisting it sharply in the opposite direction. Fan Song instantly cried out in unbearable pain, collapsing sideways in a grotesque posture half-lying over the dining table.

Fan Song immediately cursed loudly, "Damn it, you’re asking to die!" Seeing he still dared to mouth off, Wang Zhuo couldn't be bothered with finesse. His left hand scooped up the nearly empty bowl of sea cucumber and egg-drop soup and flipped the entire bowl directly onto his face!

Fan Song began struggling violently. Rong Xue’er stood with her mouth slightly agape in shock, never imagining that Wang Zhuo, without even moving from his seat, could subdue Fan Song under a soup bowl with such casual movement.

Seeing Fan Song so utterly humiliated in one exchange, Yang Ruifeng’s rage was fully ignited. He surged forward, his punch whistling through the air towards Wang Zhuo’s face: "Let go!" Yang Ruifeng stood at one meter eighty-five and possessed a strong physique; in the confined space of the private room, his attack seemed impossible to evade.

But Wang Zhuo had no need to dodge. He simply pushed outwards with both hands, carelessly shoving the struggling Fan Song backward into a sitting position. The distance between Yang Ruifeng’s fist and Wang Zhuo suddenly became vast—unless Yang Ruifeng planned to ride the falling Fan Song.

Having no choice, Yang Ruifeng retracted his punch and helped Fan Song up.

"Fine, you’ve got guts, kid!" Fan Song spat, angrily wiping the soup from his face. "Do you know who my father is? You’re finished!" "That’s all you’ve got," Wang Zhuo replied with a faint smile. "When you can’t win, you call for backup. Haven't you been weaned yet?"

"Good, good!" Fan Song stammered, his lips trembling with anger, unable to speak as he pointed at Wang Zhuo.

Wang Zhuo turned to Rong Xue’er and asked casually, "Is his father very well-connected?" Rong Xue’er glanced at Fan Song and then told Wang Zhuo, "Fan Chunliang, have you heard of him?" "Oh, it's him," Wang Zhuo said with a slight sneer. "No wonder this brat is so arrogant. Having a father who is a high-ranking official in the Health Department certainly lets him walk sideways at the Medical University."

"It’s good that you know! But it’s too late to regret it now!" Fan Song ground his teeth. "If you have the nerve, give us your name, and we'll take our time playing!" "Shoo, little fry, move aside," Wang Zhuo disdainfully flicked his hand as if shooing a fly, then looked up at Yang Ruifeng with a raised eyebrow: "What about you? What capital do you have to be so cocky?"

Yang Ruifeng replied with equal contempt, "My capital isn't much. Just that after I beat you into a pulp, no one will be able to do a thing about it."

"Alright, you said it," Wang Zhuo cheerfully stood up and extended a hand towards the door: "After you, Young Master Yang. I was just thinking I’d like to sample the taste of being a pulp myself."

Without another word, Yang Ruifeng turned and walked out. Fan Song shot Wang Zhuo a look that clearly said, You’re dead, and quickly followed.

"One of your admirers?" Wang Zhuo asked Rong Xue’er with a sly smile.

"Just a classmate from the same department but a different class," Rong Xue’er shrugged casually. "Is it interesting, bullying unsuspecting juniors?"

Wang Zhuo chuckled, "If I don’t teach them a hard lesson, how will they ever learn the rules?" "You guys are so tiresome," Rong Xue’er pouted, a mixture of exasperation and amusement on her face. "I thought you’d be different, but you’re just as childish." Wang Zhuo laughed heartily, pointing at her, "You’re only nineteen yourself. What are you pretending to be mature for? You're just a little girl."

With that, he picked up the hat from the table, placed it on his head, and walked out.

As soon as they reached the hallway, over a dozen boys suddenly swarmed forward, looking ready to turn the situation into a group brawl at the slightest disagreement. Yang Ruifeng and Fan Song stood in the middle, their faces wearing expressions of mockery, their chins lifted high with smugness.

"Quite popular, aren't you? Calling up this many people the second you turn around," Wang Zhuo nodded slightly, his gaze calmly sweeping over the faces of the freshmen. "Is there anyone here who recognizes me? Tell these two blind fellows who I am."

This tone was immensely audacious. The group of boys, seeing that he wasn't scared but instead brazen, were all momentarily stunned.

Even Yang Ruifeng and Fan Song flinched slightly. However, after exchanging glances, not a single person stepped forward to identify the man. Suspicion began to creep into their minds. His arrogance seemed to stem from his core; he probably wasn't faking it. But why was he so sure someone would recognize him?

This time, it was Wang Zhuo’s turn to be momentarily perplexed. These youngsters clearly looked like fellow students. He had spent time on campus after they enrolled last autumn, often appearing in the library and on the basketball court. How was it that none of these ten-odd people had ever seen him?

"Aren't you afraid of pulling a muscle by talking so big?" Yang Ruifeng sneered. "Didn't you think you had high visibility? Why doesn't anyone know you?" Fan Song spat on the ground in disdain, "Why don't you introduce yourself, and we’ll see if we dare to touch you?!" Another boy chimed in without hesitation, brazenly sizing up Wang Zhuo and mocking, "What if he says his name and no one knows him? After we beat him up, we won't even know which nobody we roughed up."

"A foul mouth gets you hit," Wang Zhuo said, pointing at the boy with slight annoyance. He suddenly felt restless, beginning to consider whether he should just beat these misguided rookie soldiers up first.

That boy instantly bristled, pointing a finger at Wang Zhuo: "Who the hell are you talking about?!" Wang Zhuo snorted disdainfully and was about to raise his leg to teach him a lesson when Rong Xue’er hurried over and grabbed his arm.

Wang Zhuo froze. Rong Xue’er scolded him quietly, "Wang Zhuo, stop messing around. Why are you taking things so seriously with a bunch of underclassmen?"

Those with sharp ears caught Rong Xue’er's form of address and involuntarily gasped, instinctively taking a step back. What a joke! This was the Little Tyrant of Jiangzhou, the absolute top dog at the Medical University, the great figure who even dared to slap Yang Feng! What could their group possibly use to compare against him? This was an ant challenging an elephant!

After retreating, the quicker-witted ones didn't forget to tug at their close companions, causing the previously intimidating encirclement to immediately loosen.

Yang Ruifeng was slightly further away and couldn't hear as clearly, but he sensed something unusual in the subtle shift of the atmosphere. He asked sternly, "Xue’er, who is he?"

Rong Xue’er glanced at Wang Zhuo, saw his indifferent expression, and then turned back to glare at Yang Ruifeng: "He is Wang Zhuo. Didn't you want to beat him into a pulp? Go on, get to it!"

This speech carried a tone of disappointment, like hating that iron couldn't become steel. After all, Yang Ruifeng was her classmate in the same department, and he had come specifically because of her. Thus, she held a shred of protective feeling.

But what the listening boys heard sounded entirely different. It sounded more like an insult to Yang Ruifeng’s overestimation of himself, mocking his boldness and ignorance!

As a result, the thoughts swirling in everyone’s minds became quite complex. They were indeed afraid of Wang Zhuo—that was true; even if they banded together, they couldn't afford to cross him. But that didn't stop them from using Wang Zhuo as gossip fodder, widely discussing and commenting on his scandalous photos. Now that campus beauty Sister Rong was siding with Wang Zhuo and berating her classmates like this, did that imply some kind of intimate relationship between her and Wang Zhuo?

The boys in their year didn't know the prestige of He Ye or Xu Chu, but many considered Rong Xue’er their dream girl. And now, Rong Xue’er was actually standing up for the "notoriously infamous" Wang Zhuo... Oh my god, could it be that she, too, had already submitted to Wang Zhuo and done those shameful things for him?!

Imagined scenes flooded the boys' minds. They felt envy, jealousy, anger, and dejection, yet they dared not speak out. This was the brutal reality: knowing that their dream girl had become another man’s plaything, bowing her proud head to fulfill those unspeakable shames, yet they dared not utter a sound, forced to stand there obediently and watch that man lord over them!