Human figures emerged faintly from the crimson mist, unhurried and steady.
In an instant, the entire crowd widened their eyes in shock.
Until the figures fully stepped out of the disaster zone—
**BOOM—!**
The eagerly awaiting crowd erupted into thunderous cheers!
“Well done!”
“I knew this kid could do it!”
“That child might be one of the few survivors of this catastrophe…”
“Where’s the guy who said he was going to his death earlier?”
“When I become a martial artist, I’ll definitely be able to do the same!”
…
All the earlier words of doubt and skepticism had, in this moment, transformed into hymns of praise for life and defiance in the face of suffering.
It was as if the dark clouds of fear brought by the S-Class Mutant Beast had been dispelled.
The martial artists who had rushed into the disaster zone were equally stunned, some even rubbing their eyes as if to confirm what they were seeing.
Only the burly man let out a sigh of relief, confirming his earlier suspicions:
What he had witnessed inside was no illusion.
As for Cheng Wu, the guard of the Special Martial Division maintaining order, his gaze immediately locked onto the two figures, his eyes filled with astonishment.
His heart trembled with indescribable shock.
*"Captain, looks like a fifth-grade combat suit…"*
A team member sent a message.
*"I’m not blind, I can see that. And this little girl…"*
He frowned slightly, quickly moving forward while signaling his subordinates to hold back the reporters and media personnel trying to swarm in.
Upon closer inspection, the rescuer was indeed a high school boy—tall and straight-backed, with handsome features and the unmistakable youthful vigor in his brow.
“Young man, are you alright?” Cheng Wu asked.
Wang Xian shook his head lightly before lowering the little girl from his back.
Unexpectedly, the girl struggled slightly, refusing to let go.
*"Big Brother, are you abandoning me as soon as we get out?"*
*"..."*
*"You’re safe now,"* Wang Xian replied flatly. *"Besides, I need to go home."*
*"But I’m still weak…"* The girl’s voice was faint, her breathing labored, as she clung to him even tighter.
The approaching medical staff hesitated, unsure whether to intervene.
Wang Xian paid no mind. With a swift motion, he reached for the back of her neck, intending to lift her off like a kitten.
*"Don’t!"* The girl reflexively let go, leaping down from his back with a pout.
*"Big Brother, can you not do that?"*
She had no intention of being carried like a stray puppy in front of so many people.
*"See you."*
Wang Xian waved dismissively and turned to leave.
Cheng Wu coughed lightly.
*"Young man, since you’ve just come from the disaster zone, you should both undergo a medical check-up."*
The disaster area was saturated with malevolent energy. Even with a fifth-grade combat suit providing protection, prolonged exposure could have lingering effects.
*"No need,"* Wang Xian refused.
Given that he cultivated using spirit energy, a medical examination would only reveal complications he’d rather keep hidden.
*"Then at least stay a moment longer,"* Cheng Wu insisted. *"Come with us to the station. Your heroic actions deserve recognition—there’ll be commendations and a reward."*
This was no ordinary act of bravery.
It was a life-risking rescue.
For an ordinary person, entering the disaster zone was a death sentence.
And there was no way this young man could have known the little girl was wearing a fifth-grade combat suit.
He had charged in fully prepared to die.
Such courage was rare in any era.
In modern society, where most pursued martial arts for personal gain, this act could serve as an inspiring example.
*"That’s even more unnecessary,"* Wang Xian smiled faintly. *"I didn’t do it for recognition, and I’d prefer this not be publicized."*
Cheng Wu was taken aback.
Wang Xian pushed past the surrounding crowd and strode away.
*"Young man, what’s your name? Which martial high school do you attend?"* Cheng Wu took a deep breath and called after him.
He wanted to know—just which school in Rongcheng had produced such a remarkable youth?
*"Rongcheng Martial Arts High School No. 7, Class 3-4, last row by the window."*
Hearing the answer, Cheng Wu blinked before chuckling to himself.
The kid claimed he didn’t want attention, yet he gave his exact class and seat number.
But the reporters wouldn’t be so easily deterred.
Before Wang Xian could even reach the crowd, the media had already surged past the police barricade.
Even with the Special Martial Division guards trying to hold them back, they were overwhelmed.
Wang Xian smirked inwardly. This was nothing new to him.
In modern society, once a martial artist reached the seventh realm, dignitaries, alliance officials, business tycoons, and aristocratic families would flock to pay respects.
Compared to that, a few reporters were insignificant.
Just then, a sharply dressed journalist broke through the cordon, shoving a microphone toward Wang Xian before he could react.
*"Young hero, what’s your relation to the girl? What drove you to risk your life and enter the disaster zone?"*
*"Weren’t you afraid of death?"*
Wang Xian paused for only a second, glancing sidelong at the man before replying coolly:
*"What did you call me?"*
The reporter blinked. *"Young hero, of course!"*
*"No."*
Wang Xian pushed the microphone aside. *"I’m no hero."*
The reporter chuckled. *"If you’re not a hero, then who is?"*
Wang Xian pointed at the guards beside him, then toward the medical staff in the distance.
Finally, he gestured at the rescue teams still working in the disaster zone.
*"They are."*
The reporter froze.
Despite having prepared countless sensational questions to drive up engagement, he found himself speechless.
Even the surrounding crowd fell into stunned silence.
Seizing the moment, Wang Xian slipped into the mass of people, grabbed the dazed Ye Miyue by the wrist, and sprinted away without looking back.
Under the setting sun, the two dashed through the streets.
Only when the noise had faded, reaching the next subway station, did they finally stop.
The golden twilight cast its glow on Ye Miyue’s flawless face, revealing faint, dried tear tracks.
*"Huh? Ye Miyue, were you crying?"* Wang Xian leaned in with a teasing grin.
*"No!"* She turned away abruptly, stepping into the shadows to hide her face.
Wang Xian held back further teasing, instead extending his hand.
*"Give it to me."*
*"What?"* Ye Miyue was still flustered.
*"You know what."*
After a moment’s hesitation, she handed over the crumpled jacket she’d been clutching tightly.
Then, she pulled out a folded sketch and passed it to him, her face flushing deeper as she stared at the ground.
*"Here."*
Wang Xian took the drawing and softly uttered words he’d never spoken in his past life:
*"Thanks."*
*"It’s nothing…"* Ye Miyue mumbled, growing even more flustered. *"It was yours to begin with…"*
Unable to bear the embarrassment, she turned and hurried off.
Her home was nearby.
Watching her retreating figure, Wang Xian suddenly called out:
*"Ye Miyue, make sure you practice those moves I taught you!"*
Her steps faltered before quickening.
*"Or else, next time we spar, if I don’t see improvement…"*
His voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken threat hanging in the air.
Ye Miyue dashed away swiftly, vanishing from Wang Xian's sight in moments...
Leaving behind nothing but a trail of lingering embarrassment.