Huaguo · Modu · New District.

Meet Café.

On the second floor, by the window, a man and a woman sat facing each other.

The air was thick with the rich smell of roasted coffee beans. It drifted up with the soft piano from downstairs and pressed into Everett Caldwell’s head bit by bit.

To him, none of it was worth much.

The war songs on Zhenxing Pass were better. Those could still shake a man awake.

Across the table, the woman looked him over twice. There was already a trace of displeasure in her eyes, like she’d found something lacking before he had even opened his mouth.

Before Everett could speak, she tapped open the file on her phone and read it out loud.

“Zhang Yong’an.”

“Thirty-two. First marriage.”

“Currently the principal of Shanhe Martial Academy in New District.”

She lifted her eyes and gave him another once-over.

“Not bad-looking either. That’s rare.”

Everett gave a calm nod, face flat as stone.

“Just got back from the front.”

The woman didn’t look surprised at all. She set down her phone and toyed with the women’s wristwatch on her hand, the kind that cost eighty thousand. Her fingers moved slowly, showing it off without saying so.

“Don’t talk yet. Listen to me first.”

Her tone was sharp, the kind used by someone long used to taking the lead.

“The world’s getting messier by the day. My time is valuable, so I’ll keep it short.”

Everett parted his lips, meaning to offer a few polite words.

But the woman didn’t give him the chance. She went on at once, quick and dry.

“Let’s be direct. I’ll tell you my standards.”

She leaned back a little, chin raised.

“I’ve got two kids now, yes. But my last husband died on the front line as cannon fodder.”

When she said those words, her face didn’t move much. No grief. No ache. Just plain talk, like she was discussing spoiled grain.

Everett’s gaze darkened a fraction.

The woman kept going.

“So I do not accept active-duty martial artists.”

“Still, times are chaotic now. For me, marriage matters a lot.”

She fixed her eyes on him, plain and calculating.

“Especially marrying a strong martial artist who can protect me.”

Everett Caldwell set down his coffee cup. His face stayed calm, almost blank.

“I understand.”

The woman cut him off at once. She rolled her eyes, lifted a hand, and smoothed her hair back, like she was talking to someone beneath her.

“Listen to me.”

“My two boys are already in middle school. If we get married, they’re not changing their surname. I’ve already had two, and I’m worn out. I’m not having any more. But later on, they can still see you through old age and bury you, so don’t act like you’re taking a loss.”

She leaned back in her chair, chin raised.

“And don’t think you’re getting the short end of it. I may be seven years older than you, but look at me. My face, my figure—they’ve held up just fine. For a retired old military warrior like you, I’m more than enough.”

Her lips curled, sharp as a knife.

“A grunt like you—what decent girl would marry one now?”

“And I heard you got sent back from the front because you were injured. If you didn’t have no chance to return to the battlefield in this life, and if the Martial Artists Alliance hadn’t arranged work for you, I would never have agreed to come out on this blind date just because Aunt Wang asked.”

Everett’s brow tightened.

A hard line flashed across his face, then faded.

He remembered she had been introduced by family, so he only took a sip of coffee and kept his temper down. The bitter taste spread in his mouth, but it was nothing next to the sourness rising in his chest.

The woman kept going, not giving him a breath.

“I heard you’ve got a first-class merit citation.”

Her eyes lit up at that, like she had finally reached the point.

“That’s perfect. Once we marry, my two boys won’t need to go to the front.”

Everett parted his lips and answered in a low voice,

“Yes. Huaguo does have that rule.”

Maybe because he had interrupted her, the woman’s gaze snapped back at him, fierce and full of blame.

“What, didn’t you eat? Why are you talking like you’ve got no strength?”

“Can you let me finish first?”

“That’s basic manners for a man!”

She straightened herself and spoke even more forcefully, every word carrying calculation.

“My two children will use your merit. Once they get into a martial school, they won’t have to go to the battlefield. That matters. A lot.”

Her tone turned hard, almost shrill.

“My children absolutely cannot go to the battlefield and become common soldiers. Understand?”

“I wasn’t even planning to find an active-duty martial warrior. I only came because I heard you’d retired.”

“At the front, those active military martial warriors are clumsy enough already. And the second things turn bad, they get thrown in as cannon fodder. I heard most of them don’t even last three months.”

“If they only lose an arm or a leg, that’s already a decent ending. I’m not about to spend my life taking care of some cripple.”

“They’d better not end up as cannon fodder.”

“I’m not going to become a widow again while I’m still young. Marrying a third time would be a real headache.”

The woman talked fast and loud, spittle flying from her mouth. She did not notice that Everett Caldwell’s face had already gone dark, still as dead water.

Then he slowly rose to his feet.

The moment she saw his expression, the woman got annoyed instead.

“What, you’re leaving after just a few words? Don’t even try that going-to-the-latrine excuse. Settle the bill first.”

“So gross.”

“Seriously gross.”

She reached for her bag, ready to leave.

But then, a blur cut across the space in front of her.

Smack!

The crack of it rang sharp and hard through the quiet coffeehouse, snapping every head in the room their way.

The woman was slapped straight back into her seat by Everett Caldwell’s hand. She clutched her face, stunned, staring at the man who had sat there silent just moments ago.

Now, all the calm on Everett Caldwell’s fairly handsome face was gone.

What filled it instead was fury.

The woman tried to push herself up and argue back.

But the killing intent rolling off Everett Caldwell was too naked, too heavy. It hit her like a blade at her throat. For a moment, she couldn’t even get off the floor.

Everett stared down at her, eyes cold enough to freeze blood.

“Did I give you face?”

“Are you done talking?”

“Listen.”

“Now it’s my turn.”

His voice was not loud, but every word landed hard, like iron hammered on stone.

“My First-Class Merit Medal was bought with the lives of more than fifty brothers. Fifty-plus men traded their lives for it. That honor is the glory every martial artist spends a lifetime chasing. Even I feel I’m not worthy to carry it.”

He took one step forward. The air around him turned sharp.

“And you think it’s something to be used as a tool—so two little brats can dodge the battlefield?”

His jaw tightened. The veins at his temple stood out.

“What’s wrong with disabled retired martial artists? So what if you have to care for them?”

“They are battle heroes.”

“They are the toughest wall standing against the foreign races.”

“If they hadn’t used their flesh and blood to build a steel wall, you think you’d still be sitting here drinking coffee?”

His words cracked through the café, leaving the whole place dead silent.

“And another thing.”

His gaze was like a knife.

“To marry an active-duty martial artist who guards his homeland—that’s the best fate a woman can ask for.”

“You should go see the front line.”

“Those young martial artists... some of them died on that land without ever touching a woman in their whole lives.”

When he said that, something dark and bitter flashed in his eyes. It was grief, old and buried deep, now forced back to the surface.

“As for trash like you—”

“You should find a coward and stay locked to him for life.”

“Don’t come out and poison the men who bleed and die.”

The woman’s face turned white, then green. Her lips trembled, but no words came out. She had been arrogant just moments ago. Now she looked like someone who had fallen into an ice pit.

Everett’s expression did not change.

“If not for the Federation’s laws protecting you, then if this were the foreign-race battlefield, that slap alone would’ve smashed your head into rotten mud.”

The words dropped.

Clean. Ruthless. Final.

Then Everett pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and slapped it onto the table.

The crisp note spun once, then lay flat.

He turned and walked out without another glance, his black-clad figure straight and hard, leaving only a cold silence behind him.

Those shameless conditions she brought up—he could not stomach them.

Insulting martial artists?

That, even more, he would never endure.

Everett drew in a long breath, forcing down the fire surging in his chest. Even so, his heart still churned.

For a moment, he felt it wasn’t worth it for those brothers who had died at Zhenxing Pass on the foreign-race front.

They had spilled blood there.

They had thrown down their lives there.

And people like this woman sat safely in the rear, drinking coffee, talking filth.

The thought made his chest tighten.

The moment he stepped out of the café, the evening wind hit his face. It carried a little chill and the smell of the street, and it finally cleared his head by a fraction.

He lowered his eyes and checked the time on his phone.

6:49.

Staring at that familiar number, Everett Caldwell’s eyes went dim.

He had crossed into this high-martial Blue Star world thirty-two years ago.

For a hundred years, the human race had been at war with the foreign races. The nations of mankind had long since joined into one Blue Star Federation to hold the line. After graduating from a martial academy, he had entered the Federation’s 649th Army.

He had fought on the front lines against the foreign races for half his life. In the end, all he got was a ruined body and forced retirement.

Lucky for him, they had at least arranged a post. With his First-Class Merit Medal, he had been placed as the principal of a martial university. Otherwise, life down the road would have been hard. Real hard.

Thinking back to what happened today, the anger he had just forced down bled away in an instant.

A figure flashed through his mind.

A woman in white, dressed in military martial robes, standing in a field of corpses and blood, saving wounded warriors one after another.

Bright. Clean. Like a moon hanging over a slaughter pit.

But she was too far from him. Far enough that even thinking of her now felt like asking for something he had no right to ask.

He gave a bitter laugh.

“My martial foundation’s already smashed. I can’t push my realm any higher. Later on, once my qi and blood keep dropping, I’ll be no different from an ordinary man. What the hell am I still thinking about?”

He paused, then laughed at himself again, dry and ugly.

“Can’t even win over a twice-married woman with two kids.”

The words came out like a slap to his own face.

Right then, his phone buzzed once.

Everett picked it up and looked.

‘Shanhe Martial Arts Academy principal position approved.’

‘Please sign.’

Everett Caldwell was still crouched by the roadside. He did not hesitate. Right there, with the dust at his feet and traffic of strangers passing by, he signed the name of the job he would likely do for the rest of his life.

A moment later, four words popped up at the top of the file—

“Signature successful.”

Everett Caldwell was just about to hail a carriage home.

Then, right in front of him, lines of golden text flashed out of thin air.

[Host: Everett Caldwell]

[System Description: Your strength will be the sum of all your students’ strength.]

[Current Number of Students: 600]

[Current Position Held: Principal of Shanhe Martial Arts Academy]

[Do you accept the full strength of the entire school?]

[After students graduate, the strength gained from them will still be retained.]