Chapter Thirty-Six: The Wife Steps In!

Just as he stepped out of the residential complex, Du Fang was surprised to spot a familiar face.

His young assistant, Su Xiaoyu, was squatting by the roadside today, dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and tight jeans, once again slurping noodles. She took a mouthful, paused to scroll her phone, occasionally letting out a silly giggle that nearly made her noodles spray from her mouth.

“Brother Du!” Su Xiaoyu had just taken a bite when she saw Du Fang. Her eyes lit up, and she hurriedly shoveled down a couple more bites before jogging over.

“You’re eating noodles again right after recovering?” Du Fang asked, holding Luoluo’s hand.

Su Xiaoyu wiped her mouth, pausing for a moment.

Could it be that eating noodles is bad for your health?

She thought about it but didn’t take it to heart. A little slurping brings joy; only excess is harmful. Her body was fine; she had simply experienced side effects from consuming too much Dream Spirit Spring. After returning home, her grandfather had invited the best doctors, and with some expensive medicine, she was nearly recovered after a night.

Inside, Su Xiaoyu was overjoyed, for she had finally tasted the flavor of her dreams. Originally, she had planned to resign after working as Du Fang’s assistant for three days, but now she had changed her mind. She felt that following Du Fang, mingling on the front lines of Dreamwalkers, let the seeds of her dreams silently sprout. She was truly happy! This was the exciting life she yearned for!

Returning home to inherit the family fortune, driving luxury cars and living in mansions every day—honestly, it was… uninspiring. If life loses its sense of thrill, how is it any different from drifting through it like a zombie?

“Brother Du, hop in!” Su Xiaoyu wiped her mouth, opened the car door, and beckoned Du Fang to get in.

Du Fang, leading Luoluo, glanced at the red four-door sports coupe. He couldn’t even imagine the price of such a luxury car.

“Wasn’t your car black yesterday? Why the change?” he asked, lips twitching.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, Su Xiaoyu grinned. “I’m in the mood for red today.”

“So you have cars in other colors?” Du Fang raised an eyebrow.

Su Xiaoyu laughed sheepishly, “Whatever color you like, Brother Du—I can have one custom-made for you.”

So, this was the life of the rich—extravagant beyond belief.

Du Fang was speechless. He opened the back door for Luoluo, then sat in the passenger seat.

Su Xiaoyu floored the accelerator, and the sports coupe shot forward like a blaze of crimson, darting into the sunlit city streets.

…

Du Fang and Su Xiaoyu arrived at the Dreamwalker Tower, heading straight to the sixteenth floor.

As the elevator doors opened, they encountered Su Jiuming, who was brushing his teeth in pink pajamas, his face covered with a mask. Spotting Du Fang and Su Xiaoyu, he lifted his chin slightly, lips parting. “Little Du, you’re here. Wait while I finish my skincare.”

A man this fair and refined is bound to be lucky.

After speaking, Su Jiuming disappeared into the bathroom. Perhaps hearing the commotion, Chen Xi, Si Nan, and Zhao Lu emerged as well.

The three had spent the night here after a recent dream disaster raid. Though they weren’t the main force, they’d received Dream Spirit rewards, and refining them to increase their capacity was crucial.

Du Fang greeted them all, then asked curiously, “Where’s the captain?”

As soon as he finished, the tightly closed door swung open. Zhang Changlin stepped out, a bandage wrapped around his head, his face dark as thunder, and walking gingerly.

He’d slipped on soap and landed hard on his rear last night, bruising himself.

“You’re here?” he grunted. “Chen Xi and Du Fang, meet me in the training room. Si Nan, Old Zhao, Old Su, get ready and join us there. Today, we’re giving Du Fang and Chen Xi special training.”

Zhang Changlin’s face was dark—well, it always was.

Du Fang held Luoluo’s hand, studying Zhang Changlin curiously.

Luoluo tilted her head and giggled, “Daddy, this uncle is so ugly and dark.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t mock others’ shortcomings. Captain Zhang’s darkness is distinctive,” Du Fang corrected her seriously, determined to give Luoluo the right guidance. Education must start from childhood.

Meanwhile, the Wife’s Hand perched on Du Fang’s shoulder had silently clenched into a fist, knuckles cracking, as if preparing to strike Zhang Changlin—as if there were a deep-seated grudge.

Du Fang glanced at the Wife’s Hand in confusion.

Perhaps sensing his gaze, the Wife’s Hand relaxed, opting to act ladylike, and even made a heart gesture toward Du Fang.

Su Xiaoyu, on the other hand, was brimming with excitement.

“Brother Du, is this special training for you? Are you joining the rookie Dreamwalker Invitational?” she asked.

Du Fang nodded, choosing not to hide anything from his assistant.

With his confirmation, Su Xiaoyu pumped her fist in excitement. “That means I can go to the capital to watch the finals this year! I need to get Grandpa to buy a plane right away!”

Du Fang: “???”

Did his assistant really have that much faith in him? The competition hadn't even started, and she was already planning to buy a plane to the capital? Were all the wealthy this straightforward?

But Su Xiaoyu never doubted his chances. With Luoluo around, Du Fang among rookie Dreamwalkers… was simply unstoppable!

Today, Su Jiuming had donned a green suit, looking even more slick and oily, still holding a white rose and brimming with flamboyance—so much so that the young women present felt overshadowed.

…

The group entered the training room—a spacious, three-hundred-square-meter open floor. In the center stood a ring for combat training.

On the ring, a figure sat cross-legged—it was Zhang Changlin, clad in full fencing gear, head entirely concealed so his bandaged head and dark face were hidden. A wooden sword lay across his legs.

With his face covered, Zhang Changlin felt he’d regained the captain’s dignity.

“Old Su, Old Zhao, Little Si, and Little Xi, take up positions at the four corners.”

“Du Fang, use every means at your disposal—come at me!”

Zhang Changlin slowly lifted his head, a faint smile on the face hidden under the mask.

Newcomers always needed to experience the captain’s authority.

“This year, rookie squads from every city are outstanding. Chen Xi has trained for half a year, but you, Du Fang, have just joined. As an intern Dreamwalker specializing in forbidden artifacts, you lack special abilities.”

“It will be very difficult for you to stand out in the rookie invitational. However, special training remains essential.”

Zhang Changlin’s voice was calm.

Su Jiuming, Zhao Lu, Si Nan, Chen Xi, and the ever-enthusiastic Su Xiaoyu took their seats around the ring, faces full of anticipation.

Su Jiuming, Zhao Lu, and Si Nan were eager to see Du Fang get beaten up. Chen Xi and Su Xiaoyu, knowing a bit more about him, had other expectations.

Du Fang stepped onto the ring. Zhang Changlin stood before him.

“You’re new. I’ll let you use a weapon—I won’t use Dream Spirit, just teach you combat technique. Hit me. Come on, give it your all. We’re so close—just land a hit.”

Zhang Changlin fixed his gaze on him. “If you’re a man, come hit me.”

Du Fang scratched his head. He really wasn’t much of a fighter. Still, he knew how to throw a punch.

Taking a deep breath, Du Fang clenched his fist and swung at Zhang Changlin.

He couldn’t even see how Zhang Changlin dodged—the punch hit nothing but air.

“Can’t even throw a punch?” Zhang Changlin said mildly. “Did you not eat? Your punch is weak.”

Du Fang frowned, swinging again—and missed.

He tried again—still missed.

Seven or eight punches later, he hadn’t landed a single blow, each one dodged with ease.

Around him, Si Nan, Zhao Lu, Su Jiuming, and the others chuckled quietly.

“Faster—quicker!” Zhang Changlin barked, his tone growing sharper.

Just as Du Fang’s next punch missed, the Wife’s Hand, which had been quietly resting on his shoulder, suddenly crawled down his back like a spider and settled on his spine.

A sudden prickling—five fingers seemed to pierce into his body.

Du Fang froze.

In the next instant, he felt… as if his body was no longer his own. His punching speed shot up—faster and faster!

“Keep punching! Hit me! Again—” Zhang Changlin shouted.

But before he could finish, Du Fang’s little fist shot out like lightning, slamming into Zhang Changlin’s chest.

Zhang Changlin flew through the air like a sandbag, landing heavily two meters away and skidding along the ring.

Suddenly, the room fell deathly silent.

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