Dragon Clan: My Dad is Ange

Ye Fan broke open the "Chicken Square Zongzi" and the sticky sauce stretched out in long threads: "Today I want to have a good experience with this "mixed zongzi"!"

Lu Mingfei was still struggling as he was pinned to the stone bench: "The food industry needs a revolution, Brother Ye! Ugh—"

Ye Fan roughly stuffed the glutinous rice chicken into Lu Mingfei's mouth, filling it up.

The sunlight filtered through the locust tree, casting spots of light, and Chu Zihang raised the corners of his mouth in an almost invisible arc.

Su Xiaoqiang laughed so hard that he leaned on Ye Weiwei's shoulder, who was putting the fourth zongzi into her bowl.

Lu Mingfei puffed his cheeks as he chewed his "masterpiece" and suddenly his eyes lit up:

"It's actually quite delicious..."

But seeing Ye Fan holding up a chicken square dumpling with a wicked smile, he quickly waved his hand and refused:

“It’s not delicious, it’s not delicious, it’s not delicious at all!”

The white mist from the steamer, wrapped in the fragrance of mugwort, rose up and formed small clouds above the courtyard.

Ye Fan looked at his friends playing and fighting, and suddenly thought of the night sky of Tokyo Bay.

The memories of blood and fire faded at this moment, leaving only the sweet and salty taste on the tip of the tongue, and the mugwort sachet tied with a red rope that his mother quietly put in his pocket.

In a month he will be going to Kassel College.

Above the snow line of the Alps, sunlight refracts the ancient glaciers into a dazzling diamond galaxy.

Cesare Gattuso leaned against the railing of the castle terrace, the blue light of the tablet in his hand illuminating his chiseled profile.

The mountain breeze blew his platinum-blonde hair, and behind him came the servant's low voice of dissuasion: "Master, it's not advisable to stay here for long in -15 degrees..."

"Quiet."

Caesar swiped the screen without looking back, and his ice-blue pupils suddenly contracted.

In the video pinned to the top of the forum, the image of dark golden dragon wings tearing through the night sky made his knuckles turn white - the moment the black-haired young man pierced the dragon's head with a gun, he heard the roar of his blood boiling.

"Master..." The housekeeper holding the mink cloak just approached and was startled by Caesar's sudden turn and took a step back.

The curve of the young master's mouth made the cheeks of all the maids present feel hot, but his eyes were like a wolf locking onto its prey in the snowy field.

"Book the next flight to Chicago."

Caesar casually threw the tablet to the servant, and the video froze on a close-up of Ye Fan, who was stained with dragon blood but laughing freely.

The hem of his cashmere coat rustled in the wind as he pulled out a pure gold lighter and lit the forum page. The flame illuminated the fighting spirit pulsing in his eyes.

"Tell the board I want to enroll early."

The whispers of the noble girls echoed in the corridor.

"That's Gattuso's..."

"I heard he hunted down the next generation of species all by himself when he was fourteen..."

"But that S-rank in the forum..."

Caesar suddenly stopped, and the girls immediately fell silent. When he turned around, the silver cross hanging on his chest fell into the shadow of his collar:

"Which one do you think is more ferocious, a lion or a dragon?"

Without waiting for an answer, he laughed and pushed open the stained-glass window, and the biting mountain wind blew snow particles into the corridor.

Amidst everyone's exclamations, Caesar had already jumped onto the windowsill.

Below him was a glacial canyon with a vertical drop of 300 meters, yet he opened his arms as if he were standing center stage at an opera house: "I'm betting on Gattuso's glory—"

The sound was shredded by the strong wind, but the newly posted challenge on the forum exploded like a bomb across the entire internet:

User "Dick Tudo": On my free day, I'll show the S-class what a true hybrid is. Joining Caesar Gattuso.

The gilded lion-head family emblem at the signature flashed on the screen, like a blood seal stamped on a declaration of war.

Chapter 112 After training Finger, Finger curled up in the corner

Under the dome of Chicago's Union Station, Professor Guderian paced back and forth on the platform like an overly excited penguin, occasionally taking out his antique pocket watch to check the time.

His leather shoes tapped a rapid rhythm on the marble floor, attracting the attention of several passengers.

Ye Fan leaned against the pillar, tapping quickly on the screen of his mobile phone with his fingers, a faint smile on the corner of his mouth.

[Old Tang]: When you come, I'll take you to the most authentic "Dirty Dog" in Chicago! Plenty of chili sauce and onions, guaranteed to make you forget all about the Michelin three stars! **

Ye Fan chuckled and replied, "Okay, I'll come find you tonight after I finish cleaning the dormitory."

As soon as he pressed send, Guderian grabbed his arm and shouted excitedly: "The car is coming!"

The CC1000 express train, painted dark green, slid silently into the platform, steam rising slowly from under the car, like some sleeping giant breathing.

The gilded, half-rotten World Tree emblem on the side of the carriage gleamed in the morning light, exuding an ancient and mysterious aura.

When Ye Fan handed the ticket to the conductor, the card reader suddenly burst into a dazzling red light, and a scarlet [S] logo popped up on the LCD screen.

The conductor's hand trembled violently, and his eyes widened behind his sunglasses.

He looked up at the handsome young man with blue eyes, his throat rolling, his voice trembling a little: "You...you are the one..."

Ye Fan just nodded politely without saying anything more. Guderian couldn't wait to pull him onto the train.

The interior of the car is far more luxurious than it appears from the outside.

The leather seats exude a faint sandalwood scent, and delicate ice crystal patterns condense on the porthole glass.

The waiter silently brought the silver plate - medium-rare Wellington beef, paired with 1996 Bordeaux red wine, and the napkin was folded into an elegant swan shape.

"Usually freshmen only have sandwiches."

Guderian cut into the steak, his tone filled with undisguised pride. "But the school board has specifically instructed that S-class status be accorded."

Ye Fan picked up the wine glass, the red wine swaying in the glass, reflecting his calm face.

Outside the window, the plains of Illinois receded rapidly, and the morning mist flowed across the fields, like some kind of illusory dream.

Guderian talked incessantly about the history of Kassel, but Ye Fan's attention was attracted by the electronic bulletin board on the wall - a video of the highlights of last year's "Freedom Day" was playing on a loop.

"Ah! Speaking of which!"

Guderian suddenly slammed his hand on the table, his fork clanging against the porcelain plate. "The rivalry between the Lionheart Society and the Student Union is our academy's most important tradition!"

Ye Fan raised his eyebrows and looked at him with interest.

Although I had already known about the situation of Free Day from the books I read in my previous life, it was still interesting to listen to the explanation of the professor who was a long-time teaching assistant in the college.

"The Lionheart Society was founded in 1872, thirty years before the academy itself." Guderian lowered his voice, as if sharing some secret.

Principal Angers was a member when he was young.

And now, it is led by Beowulf Selina, who was assigned to the academy by the Beowulf family last year - last year they wiped out the student union's commando team with only cold weapons.

Ye Fan shook his wine glass and chuckled: "It sounds like a medieval knight order."

"The student union has been underperforming in recent years." Guderian pushed his glasses. "Although it's been losing ground in recent years, it's said that the Gattuso family's heir will personally join the team this year."

"Have you decided which club you want to join this year? I highly recommend the Lionheart Club. The Lionheart Club uses strength as its judging criteria. Your bloodline is destined to make you the president of the student union, which will also be a good introduction on your resume in the future."

Ye Fan smiled and nodded. He had already considered which club to join next.

Guderian wanted to continue recommending the Lionheart Society.

The train whistle suddenly interrupted him.

Outside the window, a massive cast-iron arch slowly passed by, and a plaque entwined with vines bore the Latin motto: "Wisdom and Strength, Eternal."

The buildings of Kassel University sparkle in the sun, with Gothic spires and Baroque reliefs, and the entire campus looks like a castle in a fairy tale.

However, Ye Fan's attention was completely attracted by the key card in his hand - Room 317, Norton Building.

For some reason, he had an ominous feeling.

"I have specially arranged for you to live with my student, your senior brother Finkel."

Guderian rubbed his hands together and walked up the spiral staircase. "Although he... uh, failed six years, he knows the campus like the back of his hand and will definitely be able to help you."

Ye Fan didn't say anything. He knew where the ominous feeling came from.

But there was no way to refuse now, so he could only follow Guderian and continue walking.

The moment I pushed open the dormitory door, a smell mixed with fermented pizza, expired beer and sweat hit me in the face like a materialized fist.

Ye Fan froze at the door, his pupils slightly contracted, and his golden pupils lit up uncontrollably——

The bed on the left was relatively tidy, but the area on the right looked like a garbage dump swept by a tornado: instant noodle buckets were piled up like a tower, cigarette butts were floating in the Coke cans, and dirty socks were hanging on the desk lamp like some kind of strange flag.

"Surprise!"

Finger, wearing only flowered shorts, turned away from his notebook, his blond hair a mess, and said, "Welcome to the most luxurious S-class suite in Kassel!"

Professor Guderian coughed awkwardly: "Fingal, this is your new roommate Ye Fan..."

"I know, I know! The rising dragon-slayer with over a million hits on the forum!"

Finger jumped up and wanted to pat Ye Fan on the shoulder, but froze in mid-air when he saw those burning golden eyes:

"Um... Junior, would you like to try some of my beer collection first?"

Ye Fan slowly took off his backpack, his movements as gentle as if he was defusing a bomb.

He turned to Guderian and smiled: "Professor, can you give us half an hour... to clean up the dormitory?"

Guderian swallowed, nodded, and gave Finkel a look that said "good luck" before leaving.

The moment the door closed, Finkel felt the temperature in the room drop sharply.

Half an hour later, when Guderian opened the door again, he could hardly recognize the dormitory.

All the garbage was sorted and bagged, the floor was spotless, the curtains were changed to an elegant dark blue, and even the air was filled with a faint lemon scent.

Ye Fan was wiping the last window glass with a disinfectant wipe. The sunlight shone through the glass onto him, reflecting his spotless outline.

Fingle huddled in the corner like a frightened quail, an empty bottle of cleaning agent still clutched in his hand.

"I've made an appointment with a friend to eat hot dogs." Ye Fan picked up the garbage bag, turned around and smiled, "Brother Finger... do you want to join us?"

"No, no, I won't go..."

Looking at the golden eyes shining coldly in the sunlight, Finkel suddenly felt that the battle videos on the forum might still be too conservative.