"He's coming. Be sure to greet him politely. And remember, you must show respect to an instructor's personal disciple..." Xue Zhang whispered, motioning for Jiang Qiu to rise with him. He then flashed a broad smile at the approaching An Ling. "Hello, Captain An Ling."
"Oh, hello."
An Ling nodded, bypassed him, and handed over a dark gold key. "Martial Uncle, this is the key to your studio apartment. I'll take you to your room."
"???"
Xue Zhang's pupils trembled. Seeing the dark gold key placed in the freshman's palm, he suddenly felt a lump in his throat that he could neither swallow nor cough up.
'Martial Uncle?!'
'What... This... Him?'
'Captain An Ling, a personal disciple of a Grandmaster, is calling this freshman Martial Uncle?'
One of Xue Zhang's eyebrows drooped low while the other shot up. A heavy, nasal sound escaped him. "Hnngh?"
