Chapter 63: I Need No Anchor, I Am the Anchor

When Fang Xinghe returned to the small county town once again, the outside world had been shaken by another huge explosion caused by him.

Both the evening papers of that day and the morning papers of the following day provided detailed descriptions of the press conference.

Some focused primarily on the conflicts, some zeroed in on personalities, some praised the sense of fashion, while others criticized him for showing disrespect to reporters. The angles varied widely, blooming with a myriad of novel perspectives.

Upon returning to the local branch, the reporter with the bruised eye had his shoulder patted by the bureau chief for comfort: "You’ve been wronged. Rest assured, this matter will definitely not end here; I will surely get back at you!"

The bruised eye instantly turned into a red, tearful eye: "Chief, it all depends on you. Young Master Fang... Fang Xinghe truly didn't treat me like a human being!"

The chief deeply empathized, shaking his head and sighing: "Alas, it's been hard on you..."

Returning to his office, the chief buried his head and began writing, vowing to blast Fang Xinghe into smithereens.

The leading figures in the newspaper industry were all praising Fang Xinghe?

What did that have to do with him!

As editors-in-chief, their most basic professional ethics were to discuss each matter independently, remain objective and fair, and uphold public justice for the common people!

Imbued with a sense of public righteousness, he tore into Fang Xinghe with a blistering critique, practically bleeding venom onto the page...

Just like that, the press once again collectively pushed Fang Xinghe onto the "front pages."

Although this time it was merely churning within the entertainment and business sections—with an impact far below that of the social news—to Fang's fans, it was all the same.

"Your little Fang is putting on airs again!"

Such sour remarks from internet anti-fans were the best stimulants for Fang's supporters.

"What's wrong with putting on airs? Your ugly idols would love to, but do they have the right? Are they qualified? Do they have the capability?"

"Screw your #%*%￥... Little Fang deserves to be an orphan!"

Don't panic; it was just a routine internet brawl, nothing major.

The fighting capacity of Fang's fans was exceptionally strong because Fang Xinghe himself had risen through battles and held high the banner of resistance. Thus, the fans took after their idol—no flaws there.

Many people held a romanticized filter regarding the internet environment of that era, but in reality, this was the crudest and most violent period online. Countless battles erupted, frequently escalating to offline physical fights arranged over the net.

Therefore, being bellicose was truly not a bad thing; those who lacked combativeness were easily bullied and scattered.

Though Fang Xinghe's fan base was originally scattered as loosely as an egg yolk...

In BiaoLiao, the sixth voice chat room related to him had already been established.

Little Home of Fang Xinghe, Fang Ge's Causeway Bay, Fang Hua's True Appearance, A Glance at Xinghe, Stars Lighting the Way, and Passionately Dating Xinghe.

Each of these was a daily room bustling with a hundred people, and whenever hot topics arose, the rooms would be packed to the point where it was impossible to squeeze in.

The reason they split into six rooms was mainly because any single aspect of Fang Xinghe was a massive fan magnet.

Fang Hua's True Appearance and A Glance at Xinghe served as the base camps for looks-based fans. The difference was that the former carried a slight literary and artistic vibe, while the latter purely droved over pure aesthetics.

Passionately Dating Xinghe was the territory of typical girlfriend fans, differing from pure visual fans by incorporating a delusional, romantic attachment.

Stars Lighting the Way belonged to older sister fans—those slightly more mature or of a calmer temperament, dominated by pity, maternal affection, and well-wishes. They differed from mother fans by carrying a hint of career-driven support.

The Little Home of Fang Xinghe was precisely the stronghold for mother fans, consisting of the earliest batch of older female supporters.

They were purely Buddhist in their approach: as long as Fang Xinghe was doing well, whatever he wanted to do, they supported and approved of it all.

Fang Ge's Causeway Bay was the base for strength-worshipping and career-oriented fans. Their aggressiveness was off the charts, and they were always the ones stirring up trouble and starting fights—the proportion of male fans here was also quite high, which was rather absurd.

Fang Xinghe's literary and text-based fans rarely frequented BiaoLiao; a small portion mingled in Fang Hua's True Appearance, while the rest were scattered across places like Tianya, Mop, and Xici Hutong.

The limitations of the era meant that the current fan base was utterly incapable of possessing the organizational structure and centripetal force of later generations. Thus, when excited, they were practically like a group of unlashed Huskies, completely uncontrollable.

And lo and behold, the chaos was stirring again.

On the day of the press conference, only a few evening papers published brief, rushed reports, sparking only a localized ripple.

The next day, morning papers ran extensive coverage of the press conference's grand scale, and the situation instantly spiraled out of control.

Capital Daily—"Fang Xinghe: I Began Taking on Commercial Stand-In and Subcontracting Projects in the First Year of Middle School, with an Exceptionally High Satisfaction Rate."

Beijing Youth Daily—"Fang Xinghe: Brand Partners Will Join Me to Smash Your Ugly Faces That Look Down on People."

Fashion & Beauty—"Fang Xinghe's Sense of Fashion, Shattering Parallels."

New Youth Daily—"Fang Xinghe: I Am Worth 12 Million!"

Southern Metropolis Daily—"The Commercial Collision of Arrogance and Malicious Hype, the Chaotic Cooperation of Conceit and Ignorance: Where Will Fang Xinghe Lead Giordano?"

Having remained dormant for so long, the moment he popped his head up, the bomb he tossed out was massive.

Fang's fans went completely wild online, and the topic's popularity skyrocketed!

As if that weren't lively enough, Giordano, having rushed through a price-negotiated revision, aired the complete 30-second commercial on CCTV-1 on the third day.

Between 6:00 PM and 10:00 PM, a total of 120 seconds across four repeats was broadcast during absolute prime time.

The half-baked parkour that Fang Xinghe found unremarkable managed to make young people nationwide swoon with heart-pounding awe.

...

Hu Ge, a high school sophomore this year, did not like Fang Xinghe—he loathed him intensely.

He was the deputy president of the Drama Club at Shanghai No. 2 High School, the host for flag-raising ceremonies, and had successfully ascended to the post of Broadcasting Station Director this semester. Entering via high scores in the national entrance exams without grace points, he was well-rounded in academics and sports, possessed outstanding looks, and had an outgoing, cheerful personality. He had always been the most popular school hunk of his own grade and even the entire school.

—The term "school hunk" didn't officially exist back then, but that didn't prevent his widespread popularity in practice.

Yet the moment Fang Xinghe appeared, the girls in his class instantly "mutinied," constantly chattering about how amazing Fang Xinghe was. While he said nothing out loud, he felt deeply uncomfortable inside.

As a high school student with excellent grades, he could certainly appreciate the gold content of Fang Xinghe's writings, but he felt zero emotional resonance with any of it. Whether it was about immersion, the plight of small-town test-takers, the necessity of reading, or battling against fate, it all felt entirely too distant from his life.

"Isn't he just banking on his looks?" he often thought.

Because voicing it would make him look petty and bitter, he could only keep it to himself.

However, today, his defenses were finally breached.

The girls' mutiny reached an extreme today—a female classmate he adored immensely suddenly began singing praises of Fang Xinghe as well.

"What the hell!"

He bottled up his frustration for an entire day, and the moment he got home, he switched on the television and turned to CCTV-1.

"I'd like to see just what makes him so special!"

Soon, at 6:30, the television finally broadcast Fang Xinghe's Giordano commercial.

The opening scene.

Blue skies, white clouds, a verdant sports field, and a row of people crouching on the running track.

"Ready!"

The starter raised the starting pistol high.

Fang Xinghe, crouching in lane one, assumed a standard starting posture, slowly lifting his head to gaze forward.

The camera rotated and zoomed in, capturing a close-up from his left side to his full face.

Freezing for half a second, his resolute gaze shattered the fourth wall.

"Hiss..."

Hu Ge caught a sharp breath. The close-up wasn't particularly miraculous in terms of technique, but when Fang Xinghe's crystal-clear, brownish-gray eyes were turned dead-center into the frame, he still felt a heavy impact.

This damn thing was pure, unadulterated handsomeness!

Heaven was truly unreasonable.

While Hu Ge was in a daze, the starting pistol fired.

"Bang!"

Before the sound could fade, Fang Xinghe lunged forward like a ferocious leopard, roaring out of the blocks.

Action transition.

The scene shifted: Fang Xinghe was sprinting through the alleyways of Shanghai, now clad in Giordano sportswear.

A railing appeared ahead; he executed an airborne roll, skimming right over it.

A low wall appeared ahead; he vaulted over with a single-arm push, his legs spreading wide in the air to form a V-shape, landing gracefully with a spin.

A high wall appeared ahead; he kicked off it three times to grab the top, pulling himself up with single-armed force and hauling his weight over in one fluid motion.

Three cuts, fluent, concise, and clean, brimming with an indescribable allure.

This allure didn't stem from filming techniques, nor from editing, but emanated from Fang Xinghe's unprecedented, unimaginable movements.

Hu Ge was deeply captivated. He had never imagined that simply vaulting over railings and walls could be so dazzlingly cool—it was as if, as if...

An elven spirit freely traversing through the city streets?

For a moment, he couldn't think of a more precise description, feeling only a deep sense of shock.

The next instant.

A dead end loomed ahead, with all three surrounding walls approaching five meters in height—no longer something that could be cleared with a couple of kicks, yet Fang Xinghe was already sprinting toward the final stretch.

Hu Ge's heart leaped into his throat, subconsciously identifying with the scene, feeling tense and worried for the person he despised the most.

How could he possibly clear that?

Was he going to crash straight into it?

Or would someone magically carry in a spring bed?

Hu Ge knew he made it across, as the girls had mentioned it during their chat earlier that day, but he simply couldn't fathom how the "swoosh and a dash, cleared in a few simple steps" they described actually looked.

As it turned out, Fang Xinghe really did "swoosh and dash."

Without slowing down, he lunged forward, planted a fierce kick straight onto the front wall, then used the rebound to spring toward the right wall, planting both hands and feet simultaneously against the surface before spinning off into another jump!

Hu Ge's jaw dropped and his eyes widened, staring in absolute dumbfounded silence as Fang Xinghe ricocheted back and forth between two parallel walls, leveraging both sides with the lightness of a swallow and the agility of an ape, scaling back up to the front wall in just four moves, gripping the ledge, and effortlessly pulling himself up.

"Holy shit! Qinggong (Lightness Kung Fu)?!!"

Hu Ge leaped high into the air, his mind completely emptied by shock, yet he didn't dare avert his gaze for even a fraction of a second.

Another sprinting transition followed. Fang Xinghe was back on the track, crossing the finish line first, then bending over to gasp heavily for air.

The camera rotated from the rear right, freezing in a standard 90-degree profile shot. Sweat trickled down from his forehead and temples, converging along the bridge of his nose. The director used backlighting for a close-up of a single droplet condensing on his nose tip.

Simultaneously, the Giordano slogan played via voiceover: "Sincere, True, Giordano!"

The close-up lingered for a second.

The exact moment the frame froze entirely, a second voiceover suddenly cut in: "Never stop running!"

Drop.

A crystal-clear bead of sweat dripped from the tip of Fang Xinghe's nose.

The commercial ended.

...

Several seconds, or perhaps a dozen seconds later, just as the next commercial was about to finish, Hu Ge snapped back to reality.

Subconsciously, he rubbed his arm; the goosebumps were still standing on end.

"Damn it! What the hell... what the hell..."

Hu Ge forcefully tugged at his hair, his mind in total disarray, incapable of sorting out what he was feeling.

Shocked? Definitely.

Envious? Seemingly a bit.

Impressed? Uh, maybe just a tiny speck...

He was unwilling to admit that he had been charmed by Fang Xinghe's coolness, but when he went to school the next day and the boys in his class began discussing Fang Xinghe's running routine, he couldn't help but jump right into the conversation.

"Brothers, does anyone know what those moves actually are? Where can you learn them?"

His classmates discovered a blind spot: "Hey? Little Hu, weren't you the one least impressed by Fang Xinghe?"

Hu Ge stiffened his neck and retorted: "I'm definitely going to surpass him in the future, to be way more badass than him! So I need to know my enemy, understand?"

"Understood!"

His buddies exchanged knowing smiles: "You admire him but are too embarrassed to admit it, your little petty thoughts are written all over your face!"

"Damn it! I'm just asking where I can learn to scale walls, why are you talking so much nonsense!"

Hu Ge's cheeks flushed red...

Naturally, it wasn't just him; teenagers all across the country were probably asking around everywhere.

The local eaglets were practically driving Big Brother crazy by pestering him relentlessly.

"It's not Qinggong, it's not Qinggong, it's not Qinggong! Damn it!"

Blackie and the others looked at him with pleading eyes: "Brother, whatever it is, when did you even practice that? Can you teach us?"

He had just learned it, so he couldn't teach it.

When Fang Xinghe first experimented with parkour, he merely used a variant of the basic skills from the 36-Road Spring Legs.

Many people might think the 36-Road Spring Legs were meant for kicking people, but that wasn't the case. This martial art encompassed various leg movements, including aerial flying kicks and backflips, serving purely as foundational technique.

Coupled with simple hand-climbing and pulling actions (Climb Up), practicing it for a short while unlocked a brand-new skill: [Parkour].

The Starlight Points at his disposal were extremely abundant, so he casually dumped them until the skill hit 70 points, costing a little over a million points.

Because the skill level wasn't high, he only displayed very basic parkour movements, with the exception of the final "double-wall bounce," which could be considered somewhat difficult.

However, this was 1999. No matter how basic it was, it was still unimaginably trendy and cool!

The moment the commercial aired, orthopedic hospitals nationwide became bustling. Dozens of little boys crying their lungs out were wheeled in every day...

And when they walked out later wearing plaster casts, they still didn't forget to clamor: "Next time, I'll definitely nail it!"

Little bro, wipe your snot first...

In this commercial, Fang Xinghe's male and female fans reached a rare consensus—damn it, it was explosive!

Female fans appreciated the two large close-ups and shrieked wildly.

Male fans cheered at the cool wall-vaulting movements, wanting to sprint up and kick every wall they saw on their way to school...

Good grief, it was fortunate the director didn't film Fang Xinghe scaling down from a five-meter wall, or else parents of mischievous kids living on the second and third floors would probably never sleep soundly again.

—Don't doubt it, kids of this era genuinely dared to jump!

This time, Fang Xinghe managed to unite boys aged 6 to 25. Even those who disliked him had to admit it looked undeniably cool, turning those two sets of movements into the standard answer for scaling walls. It spiraled out of control, sparking the trendiest craze of the moment.

A trend that refused to walk the beaten path...

And Giordano won big time. Their offline retail stores were jammed to the bursting point the day after the commercial aired. The outfits Fang Xinghe had dismissed were pushed to the brink of selling out, and popular models suffered from severe nationwide shortages.

The South fared a bit better since the demand for autumn wear wasn't as urgent, but the North practically had to replace its doorframes because men in their early twenties joined the frenzy.

Well, even if they made Brother Qian step on a sewing machine until it smoked, production still couldn't keep up...

Upon seeing the commercial's impact, other youth brands turned bloodshot with envy, scrambling everywhere to inquire about Fang Xinghe's contact info. The impatient ones flew straight to Changchun to pay him an in-person visit.

Take, for instance, Fujian Sanxing Sports Goods Company, which was currently considering transitioning from an OEM manufacturer to building its own brand. President Ding leaped up, pounding the table and pointing at the television while shouting: "Yes, yes, exactly that vibe! Our brand should do things just like this!"

OEM factories back then possessed virtually no marketing system or brand-building methodology. The production vice president scratched his head and asked blankly, "Should we hire Fang Xinghe as our endorser too?"

"No!"

Ding Shuibo gritted his teeth fiercely, his face flushed red as he bit out each word: "We're going to design a pair of shoes specifically for him!"

...

Fang Xinghe's visibly surging second wave of popularity naturally made his fans immensely proud, strutting around like big shots every day.

Choosing the right idol felt this good.

So what if he had no major works yet?

If you've got the ability, make your ugly idols sell out an endorsed product?!

Stirred by such excitement, Fang's fans pulled off another major stunt—they slaughtered the chat room of H.O.T.'s fan club!

The White Rice fandom genuinely couldn't beat Fang's fans on BiaoLiao. After crying and retreating to lick their wounds, there was no further follow-up.

This incident didn't cause the slightest ripple at the mainstream level, resembling nothing more than a small pebble tossed into a vast lake, kicking up a tiny splash before vanishing entirely.

Yet confined within the micro-circle of BiaoLiao, aside from damaging Fang Xinghe's reputation, the biggest impact was that Fang's fans became isolated.

They didn't care, nor did they realize how far into the future a butterfly flapping its wings could trigger a hurricane.

Fang Xinghe remained oblivious to everything. During his routine inspection of the Starlight Panel, he discovered that over a hundred passionate fans had suddenly appeared. Assuming it was entirely the merit of the commercial, he was in an exceptionally wonderful mood.

Just think about it: if the hardest-to-grow passionate fans increased by over a hundred, what kind of magnificent spectacle must the loyal and core fans be experiencing?

Level 2 Core: 742,500
Level 3 Loyal: 45,200
Level 4 Passionate: 1,077

And this was merely the beginning.

The most, most, most exhilarating part naturally was the Starlight Points—crashing past 80 million once again!

After transforming text into visual imagery, the influx of Starlight Points experienced an intuitive, explosive surge, particularly from the two flanking close-up shots.

Fang Xinghe had observed that when the commercial reached those specific segments, the Starlight Points on his panel shot up in sharp leaps, reverting to a mere trickle once the commercial ended.

"Looks like I still need to show off and look cool on screen more often..."

"Yeah, it would be even better if I could beautifully cough up blood and die in a couple of roles..."

Fang Xinghe daydreamed blissfully about various creative ways to spit blood in film and television dramas, happily pushing his Coordination attribute to 89, and then smashing 4 Starlight Brilliance Points right onto it...

Ah, sheer comfort!

Though his inventory was emptied out once again, a Coordination rating of 93 immediately made him feel it was well worth it.

Without the slightest change in his strength and agility parameters, he dashed up a wall once more—a single step, a grab, a pull—and in the blink of an eye, he was on the rooftop.

"Holy cow! Explosive power increased by this much?"

Filled with both pleasant surprise and disbelief.

Immediately afterward, he measured his vertical leap and single-step sprint using the most intuitive methods. They were visibly stronger than before by at least 10%, primarily manifested as faster power generation, more comfortable force exertion, and smoother kinetic flow.

Mh, it possessed a rather distinctive feel akin to the "internal and external harmony, mind and intent unity" achieved when martial arts reached the pinnacle.

Continuing to practice the newly learned Chen-style Tai Chi, Fang Xinghe quickly sensed the "shivering force."

This kinetic force was the "springy-shaking power" demonstrated by Jet Li in *Tai Chi Master*, where every single nerve ending and muscle throughout the body shuddered during exertion, creating a visual aesthetic defined by "explosive control on the brink of imbalance."

It had nothing to do with raw strength or agility; it relied purely on coordination—meaning control, internal drive, and integration.

Muscular powerhouses like Li Weigang couldn't master it no matter how much raw strength they possessed.

Focusing intently, Fang Xinghe pondered along the path, experiencing the nuances for roughly two or three hours. Consequently, his Chen-style Tai Chi leaped from an introductory 22 points to 65, crossing the threshold into true proficiency.

"Haha!"

The future grandmaster was overjoyed. Practicing at this pace, a year's time would be more than enough to elevate all body-related skills above 85. Just how many Starlight Points would that save?

If he could manage to accumulate the remaining 6 Starlight Brilliance Points before reaching adulthood...

So you're the one they call Little Li?!

Come on, let's see what you've got~~~

...

After practicing until drenched in sweat and feeling entirely refreshed, Liu Dashan uninvitedly arrived, shouting at him to come inspect the new house.

"The house I cleaned up for you, I guarantee you'll love it!"

Fang Xinghe didn't pay much attention to the house, teasing him instead: "Big Brother Dashan, has your transfer paperwork come down yet? Don't go working in vain..."

"Fickle, utilitarian, distant!"

Liu Dashan pointed an accusing finger at him solemnly: "Helping you out with a minor favor means if there's no reward, it's working in vain?! Your mindset insults my integrity; I worked this hard purely out of affection for you!"

"Fine, fine, you're the boss!" Fang Xinghe raised his hands in surrender. "You are simply too suited to be a principal. If the paperwork still doesn't come down, I'll go to the Education Bureau myself and demand it for you."

When bragging, happiness mattered most.

Liu Dashan burst into hearty laughter, rubbing his belly with satisfaction: "It came down, it came down. I'll start as executive vice principal, and once the leadership finishes their final term..."

"Good, congratulations." Fang Xinghe suddenly recalled something. "Right, what date does our first year of high school start? September 1st?"

"Mhm. Got business? It's best if you still come to attend the opening ceremony."

Liu Dashan looked nervous, terrified that Fang Xinghe would drop a line like 'I don't have time.'

Fang Xinghe chuckled: "I'll go, just don't make me go on stage to give a speech."

Liu Dashan was instantly choked speechless.

Of course he wanted him to—he dreamed about it—but since this precious little boss wouldn't cooperate, what could anyone possibly do about it?

"Forget it, forget it. Let's not chat about things that give me heart palpitations. Come on, we're here. Let's see how your new home looks."

Liu Dashan led Fang Xinghe to a rural courtyard. Beside it stood a tall wall, in front of it were two vermilion iron gates, and directly opposite was the experimental school's sports field. There were no buildings in between, save for a small grove of trees.

"What was this place originally used for?"

Standing by the dirt path at the entrance, Fang Xinghe swept his gaze around.

Liu Dashan casually replied: "It was farmland originally, commonly known as the street edge. Later, the land was requisitioned for the experimental school to build a new sports field and teaching building... All these rural self-built houses along the road were expropriated. In a few years, they might build student dormitories here? For now, it's temporarily assigned to teachers with special circumstances."

"Oh, are my neighbors all teachers from our school?"

"Only a few households are occupied; the rest serve as temporary dormitories. Local teachers have homes so convenient for meals, who's going to live here?"

"That makes things easy. Help me clean up another unit; my manager needs a place to live, right?"

Fang Xinghe's skin was so thick that he didn't even catch his breath when making the request.

Liu Dashan laughed in exasperation: "Fine, both units flanking yours are currently empty anyway. I'll just clear out one for you."

"Mhm."

Satisfied, Fang Xinghe finally pushed open the gates of his new home.

The courtyard was spacious. Fang Xinghe walked a circle with his hands clasped behind his back, sighing: "There is a jujube tree on the east side of my courtyard, and another jujube tree on the west side..."

"..."

Liu Dashan endured and endured, but finally offered a quirky reminder: "The one on the east is a ginkgo tree, and the one on the west is an osmanthus tree... Even if you can't tell them apart, can't you see all those flower buds covering the trees? They look vastly different..."

"Thanks for the reminder."

Fang Xinghe nodded with a fake smile, turning toward the house and tossing back a casual expression of gratitude.

"Your character is in my new writing, don't mention it."

Liu Dashan slapped his forehead, feeling a mixture of anxiety and excitement. His thoughts drifted wildly, swirling into a chaotic mess.

Being written into a text and spreading one's name across the world was certainly great, but what if the depiction turned out too wretched... There was no need to doubt it—that little wolf cub was fully capable of pulling off such a stunt!

Without him yakking away, Fang Xinghe's tour of the new home became much more pleasant.

The overall layout remained the classic structure of a rural single-story brick house: an entrance hall, bedrooms on either side, and a kitchen in the back featuring a traditional clay stove connected to the brick kang bed inside the bedroom.

"A modern heating system simply couldn't be extended out here,"

Liu Dashan explained: "This area can't be incorporated into the heating grid for now, and installing a separate boiler is unrealistic. However, the school will prepare honeycombed coal briquettes for you. The chimneys and flues are built very solidly; when the heat travels through the walls, it warms up the entire room, making it just as comfortable in winter."

Aside from that, there was a small vegetable garden in the back equipped with a sweet-water well.

At that moment, the garden was lush and green, planted with common vegetables found in the Northeast.

Fang Xinghe plucked a tomato, wiped it against his clothes, and shoved it straight into his mouth—tart, sweet, and wonderfully mealy.

"Well done!"

"Heh heh~"

Liu Dashan proudly patted his belly and tugged him back toward the bedroom.

"Come on, you haven't seen the most important thing yet..."

Returning to the bedroom and following the direction of Liu Dashan's finger, he spotted a large square-headed monitor draped with a cloth cover, resting on the far right of a long writing desk.

Initially, he hadn't noticed what it was, but prompted by the cue, he finally realized.

"Good grief, you even procured a computer?"

Liu Dashan proudly took credit: "It's an eliminated machine from the school computer lab, set up specifically for your writing. I've also equipped you with a telephone fax machine so you can dial up to the internet!"

Fang Xinghe was overjoyed. He could finally return to the internet era.

That selection fee of over 30,000 yuan wasn't wasted at all; Liu Dashan was truly a born head eunuch—just look at how thorough his execution was.

"Splendid, Big Brother Dashan, your principal position is locked in!"

Having finished boasting, Fang Xinghe suddenly flashed a wicked smile: "Of course, provided you can endure a brief period of torment..."

⊙o⊙

Liu Dashan was frightened out of his wits, his eyes staring straight.

"Wait, what on earth are you planning to do? I'm a vice principal, how major does something have to be to torment me?"

"Nothing much."

Acting like a damned riddle-maker, Fang Xinghe bolted the moment he finished teasing, leaving without a single word of explanation.

"No rush. Before the New Concept Composition prompts hit the market, you still have some good days left to live. Just stay happy while it lasts."

Dashan wanted to pursue him with questions, but unfortunately, Fang Xinghe gave him no chance. With a wave of his small hand, it was time to move!

The Thirteen Eaglets had all arrived.

In truth, there wasn't all that much to pack. Aside from books and a pile of Giordano-gifted clothing, Fang Xinghe didn't take a single thing with him.

Everything that had once existed in that home carried a dual nature of nostalgia and revulsion in the heart of the wild child Xiao Fang.

Was there anything that man hadn't touched?

None.

Therefore, he only took his mother's photograph—the sole standalone picture of her—and consigned all other photos to be melted away in the firewood hearth.

With this parting, there would be no day of return, which was both a relief and something to celebrate.

Losing the so-called home did not mean Fang Xinghe had truly become a rootless, lonely wild child.

Xiao Fang was wild, Big Fang was unyielding, and wherever the newly born Fang Xinghe stood, that place became home.

I need no anchorage; I am the anchorage.

*********
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