The confrontation didn't begin with shouting.
It began with silence.
The evening crowd outside Beijing No. 3 High School was thinning when Yan Heitu stepped forward, blocking Fang Ze's path with deliberate timing. His entourage fanned out naturally—three boys, all taller than average, their stances loose but practiced. They weren't street thugs. They were the kind of youths who had tasted power early and learned to enjoy the way others shrank back.
Yan Heitu smiled.
Not wide.
Not friendly.
It was the smile of someone used to being obeyed.
" Fang Ze..," he said casually, hands in his pockets. "You walk like you own the ground."
Students nearby slowed unconsciously. Phones lowered. Whispers spread.
Fang Ze stopped.
He didn't sigh.
Didn't frown.
He simply looked at Yan Heitu—really looked at him.
Unstable Qi. Forced circulation. Pills masking a shallow foundation.
Third-rate talent, Fang Ze judged instantly. Third-rate ambition.
"You're in my way," Fang Ze said calmly.
Yan Heitu's smile twitched.
"See?" he said to his entourage. "That tone. Always like he's above everyone." His gaze slid toward Su Qingxue standing a few steps behind Fang Ze, her expression cool, distant. "You think acting mysterious makes you impressive?"
Fang Ze stepped forward.
The air changed.
Not dramatically—no visible surge—but the temperature dipped just enough for sensitive students to shiver.
"Last chance," Fang Ze said. "Move."
Yan Heitu laughed.
He took a step closer—and slapped Fang Ze's chest.
That was the mistake.
The sound didn't echo.
Because Fang Ze didn't move backward.
Instead, the ground beneath Yan Heitu's feet cracked.
A sharp, concussive boom rippled outward as Fang Ze's Qi surged unrestrained for the first time in public. Not explosive—condensed. Like a mountain shifting its weight.
Yan Heitu's pupils shrank.
Too late.
Fang Ze grabbed his wrist and twisted.
Bone screamed.
Yan Heitu was lifted off the ground and slammed into the pavement with controlled brutality. The impact shattered tiles in a spiderweb pattern, shockwaves rattling nearby storefront windows.
Students screamed.
Phones came up.
The entourage moved instantly—trained reflexes kicking in.
One swung a baton.
Fang Ze didn't even look.
He stepped forward and drove a palm strike backward.
Angry Buddha Palm.
The air compressed violently.
The attacker flew five meters, crashing into a parked car hard enough to dent steel. Alarms exploded into noise.
Another charged from the side.
Fang Ze turned, fingers extending.
Void Finger.
A sharp, invisible force pierced the boy's shoulder, pinning him to the ground without breaking skin—but leaving him screaming as if his arm had been torn off.
The third froze.
Fear finally catching up.
Yan Heitu struggled, coughing blood, eyes wide with disbelief.
"You—" he choked. "You're not supposed to—"
Fang Ze crouched.
For the first time, his voice carried unmistakable weight.
"Power isn't something you borrow," Fang Ze said quietly. "And it's not something you flaunt before you understand it."
He released Yan Heitu—and stepped back.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Then the city reacted.
Traffic lights flickered across the district.
A nearby construction crane stalled mid-rotation.
Sensitive civilians clutched their heads as pressure washed through the area.
Across Beijing, monitoring systems spiked.
Inside the Huaxia Special Bureau Authority, alarms didn't blare—but analysts went still.
"Localized Qi shockwave," someone reported. "Origin—Chaoyang District. Near Beijing No. 3 High."
Director Zhao Mingyuan stared at the screen.
"…So it wasn't a rumor."
Back at the scene, teachers ran out. Security shouted. Sirens wailed in the distance.
Su Qingxue stepped beside Fang Ze, her presence cool and grounding. She didn't ask if he was alright.
She knew.
Yan Heitu was hauled away by his entourage, half-conscious, reputation in ruins.
By nightfall, videos flooded the internet.
"Did you see that guy?"
"That wasn't martial arts."
"The ground cracked—no effects!"
Forums ignited.
Underground circles took note.
And in quiet rooms across Beijing, several people wrote down one name for the first time.
Fang Ze.
The city had felt his strength.
And it would not forget it.