Looking at the last two text messages on her phone, which could easily lead to other associations, Ashley Young's cold and beautiful face couldn't help but flush red. She cursed inwardly: That damn bastard!

Originally, Henry Lawson had planned to ask about her relationship with Noah Wood, but after thinking it over, he suppressed the thought. Just like himself, everyone has their own secrets. After teasing Ashley Young a bit via text and getting back at her for what had just happened, Henry Lawson felt a surge of satisfaction. He tossed his phone aside and was about to head into the bathroom when his phone vibrated again.

It was another message from Ashley Young, but this time, unlike before, it was an MMS with a photo attached—a selfie of Ashley Young in a white nightgown, reclining lazily against the headboard. Her flawless face carried a hint of languor, and such stunning beauty made Henry Lawson's heart race.

“What are you looking at, grinning so lecherously?” Andrew Stone suddenly poked his head over and asked.

Seeing this, Henry Lawson quickly closed the photo album and opened an app he had just downloaded. “Rage Comics!” he said, then put his phone aside, grabbed his clothes, and went into the bathroom.

If anyone found out he had such a private photo of Ashley Young in his possession, Henry Lawson was sure he’d become the number one target of every male student at Donghai University.

Clearly, he was looking at a private photo of the campus goddess, yet he claimed it was Rage Comics. My eyes are sharp, bro, Andrew Stone couldn’t help but curl his lips and mutter to himself.

Chapter 13 Scott Stewart

Amid a few pleasant little episodes, Henry Lawson spent his first days of university life at Donghai University. At five in the morning, thanks to his biological clock, Henry Lawson woke up on time, went to the bathroom for a quick wash, changed into sportswear, strapped five-kilogram sandbags to each leg, and began his morning workout.

Whether in the Longyin Unit or during the three years of city life after leaving it, he had never abandoned his habit of morning exercise. Maybe, deep down, Henry Lawson always hoped that if he ever returned to the Longyin Unit, he wouldn’t fall too far behind his old brothers. Now, the chance to go back was right in front of him, but he still couldn’t get past the hurdle in his heart.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he walked onto the track. By now, the sky was already brightening, a faint mist hung in the air, and the empty track was almost deserted. After jogging two laps to warm up, Henry Lawson went to a corner of the field and began practicing his punches.

The style Henry Lawson practiced was different from ordinary military boxing. His style was called “Falcon,” a set of moves designed by Lieutenant General Paul Clark, known as the “Godfather of Special Forces,” based on Muay Thai. The entire set was fierce and ruthless, created for killing on the battlefield.

Although there were no enemies in front of Henry Lawson, his every punch and kick carried a faint aura of killing intent, sharp and intimidating.

About two hundred meters away from where Henry Lawson was practicing, two figures—one tall, one short—were watching him. The taller man was at least 190 centimeters, the shorter about 175, but it was clear that the shorter one was the leader.

“A man who can get involved in a scandal with Ashley Young is certainly extraordinary. That idiot George Hughes actually wanted to teach him a lesson—he’s lucky he didn’t get beaten to death,” the shorter guy said, watching Henry Lawson with a hint of admiration in his eyes.

“You think he’s that strong?” the taller one asked in surprise.

“If I were to face him in a normal match, I could beat him within fifty moves. But if it were a fight to the death, he could take my life in twenty,” the short one replied.

“How is that possible?!” the tall guy couldn’t help but exclaim. “You, Scott Stewart, are the martial arts prodigy of the The Stewart Family—a genius not seen in a hundred years. Your rapid-fire arrows are legendary. How could—”

“You want to say, how could I praise someone else and put myself down, right? The martial arts of the The Stewart Family focus on health and fitness, but Henry Lawson’s style is designed for killing. That’s the fundamental difference. No matter how mystical rapid-fire arrows are, they can’t compare to a sniper rifle. Mark Stewart, we both know that in this age of firearms, traditional martial arts have already declined,” Scott Stewart said, a trace of sadness flickering in his eyes.

While Scott Stewart and Mark Stewart were talking, Henry Lawson had already finished a full round of “Falcon” from start to finish. After finishing, he picked up his jacket from the side and headed back toward the dormitory building—he still had time for a shower before breakfast.

At the exit of the track, Henry Lawson ran into Scott Stewart and Mark Stewart. Scott Stewart nodded at him in a friendly way, and Henry Lawson returned the gesture. Although they only passed by each other, Henry Lawson had already taken note of this reserved classmate.

“That guy is definitely dangerous. Don’t mess with him for no reason,” Scott Stewart warned Mark Stewart as he watched Henry Lawson's back.

Mark Stewart nodded and said, “Yesterday, someone saw him and Ashley Young having a date at the lakeside pavilion. With Emily Wood’s personality, he won’t let this go easily.”

“Emily Wood?” Scott Stewart couldn’t help but sneer. “If he wants to die, let him. This time, he’s bound to hit a brick wall. Ashley Young has found herself a good shield this time. That woman isn’t simple either. But in the end, who will conquer whom is still up in the air. Henry Lawson isn’t easy to deal with either. Heh, this is going to be interesting.”