Chapter 49: The All-Powerful Matron

The meeting room at Linjiang Elementary was packed with people, the air thick with the scent of chalk dust mingled with perfume and tobacco from the parents.

Wang Teng found his younger brother Wang Chong’s seat, pulled Jiang Xia down beside him, and just as they sat, a crisp clacking of high heels echoed behind them.

“Move aside, move aside!”

A lavishly adorned matron, clutching a limited-edition handbag, pushed through the crowd with a frown.

Two bodyguards in black suits followed her, radiating the aura of Martial Masters.

The matron strode straight to the empty seat beside Wang Teng and was about to sit when her handbag accidentally brushed against the pen on his desk.

Before Wang Teng could speak, she struck first. “What’s wrong with Itachi? Can’t Itachi see?”

She recoiled as if burned, her voice shrill like nails scraping glass.

“This bag is made from the hide of a Fire Spirit Crocodile slain during the Shanhai Cataclysm! Do Itachi think Itachi can afford to replace it if it’s scratched?”

Wang Teng’s brow furrowed at her sharp tone; he was about to bend down and pick up his pen when he heard her words and exploded.

“Have some sense! Itachi shoved into me and brushed against me—how dare Itachi turn it around?”

He slapped the dust off his clothes, raising his voice. “Even if this crocodile-skin bag is priceless, that doesn’t mean Itachi can ignore basic decency!”

“Decency?”

The matron laughed as if hearing the greatest joke, smoothing the bag’s pattern with her hand and glancing dismissively at Wang Teng and Jiang Xia.

“In Linjiang, my husband’s word *is* decency! He’s the chairman of Yang Group and the school’s largest benefactor—do Itachi think I can’t have security throw Itachi two out?”

She nodded to her bodyguards, who stepped forward instantly, their aura pressing hard against Wang Teng.

Wang Teng snorted, flicked his wrist, and summoned a faint golden rune: “Gravity Rune · Sinking.”

The two bodyguards were crushed as if by invisible boulders, their knees slamming onto the floor with a thud, faces as pale as paper.

The surrounding parents fell silent, even holding their breath—this chubby kid was so young, yet he’d effortlessly subdued two Martial Masters!

The matron staggered back a step, her bag slipping from her hand to the floor, but she dared not pick it up.

She stared at Jiang Xia’s eyes, where a flicker of crimson glowed, and trembled. “W-who are Itachi?”

Jiang Xia didn’t answer. He bent down, picked up Wang Teng’s pen, and slipped it back into his hand, then turned to the ashen-faced matron.

“Pick up your bag and apologize to my friend.”

As tension hung heavy, the meeting room door opened, and the principal entered swiftly beside an elderly man in a Zhongshan suit.

The elder’s eyes lit up at the sight of Jiang Xia and Wang Teng. “Jiang student, Wang student—what are Itachi doing here?”

Jiang Xia looked up, recognizing the Cultural Dao Academy badge on the elder’s chest, and gave a slight nod. “Good day, Master Zhang. I’m here to accompany Wang Teng to the parent meeting.”

“Master?”

The matron fixed her gaze on the Cultural Dao Academy badge, her heart sinking.

In Linjiang, even her husband dared not act recklessly before a Cultural Dao Academy Master.

The principal’s face turned instantly purple; he hurried forward two steps and bowed to the elder.

“Master Zhang, what brings Itachi here?”

He shot a furious glare at the matron, cursing Yang Group a thousand times in his mind—this fool had dared provoke someone from the Cultural Dao Academy!

Master Zhang ignored the principal, his eyes locking onto the crocodile-skin bag on the floor, his brow knitting into a tight knot.

He crouched, brushing his fingers lightly over the bag’s pattern, his voice turning icy. “Fire Spirit Crocodile hide from Shanhai Pass? The high-rank beast slain twenty years ago by four academy heads and their students.”

“That hide was recovered during the purge—by regulation, it should have been sealed in the Cultural Dao Academy. How did it become your handbag?”

The matron stammered, “I—I didn’t know! My husband bought it at an auction—I truly didn’t know!”

“Didn’t know?”

Wang Teng snorted, pulling out his phone and opening a photo.

“I took a picture of the bag’s serial number just now. Checked it—this Fire Spirit Crocodile hide was bought from the black market three months ago.”

“The buyer was registered under Yang Group’s auction house. Itachi say Itachi didn’t know—who believes that?”

Master Zhang took the phone, glanced at the serial number, and his expression darkened further.

He looked up at Jiang Xia, his eyes filled with complex emotion.

“Jiang student, Master Liu valued Itachi most in his lifetime. If he knew the things he fought to protect were being used as status symbols, he’d be heartbroken.”

Jiang Xia clenched the bronze coin in his pocket, its edge digging painfully into his palm.

He looked at the matron, his voice flat, yet carrying absolute authority.

“Apologize to Wang Teng. Then have your husband explain which black-market shop sold it.”

“As for this bag—Itachi’ll deliver it yourself to the Cultural Dao Academy.”

The matron’s fingernails dug deep into her palms, her knuckles turning white.

She stared at Jiang Xia’s utterly expressionless eyes, then glanced at the phone in Master Zhang’s hand, still glowing with the black-market transaction record.

Finally, she bent down and picked up the crocodile-skin bag, her voice laced with resentment.

“S-sorry—I didn’t see where I was going, I brushed your pen off!”

Wang Teng grunted, letting it go, but Jiang Xia spoke softly.

“Let’s go.”

As they turned to follow Master Zhang out, muffled sobs rose behind them, mingling with the hushed whispers of the parents.

Back at the Yang family villa, the golden chandelier’s light spilled across the marble floor, illuminating the matron’s bitter resentment.

She hurled the crocodile-skin bag onto the sofa; the leather cushion thudded under the impact.

“Old Yang! Itachi have to stand up for me! Today at school, two brats humiliated me!”

Yang Zhibiao had just returned from the office, removing his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbing his temples. Hearing this, he frowned. “What happened? Who dared insult Itachi?”

“Who else? Two students here for the parent meeting! One fat one used a rune—just a flick of his wrist, and our two Martial Masters were forced to their knees!”

“The other one was worse—his eyes looked like he wanted to devour us! Even Master Zhang from the Cultural Dao Academy bowed to them!”

The matron grew more agitated, snatching a glass of water from the coffee table and gulping it down.

“They said my crocodile-skin bag came from the black market and demanded I hand it over! That bag cost Itachi eight digits!”

“Cultural Dao Academy?”

Yang Zhibiao’s fingers paused. He put his glasses back on, his gaze behind the lenses turning grim. “Master Zhang? The old man who handles admissions for the Linjiang district?”

Seeing her nod, he tapped his fingers on the sofa arm. “What were the two students’ names?”

“One’s Wang Teng. The other… I think it’s Jiang Xia… yes, Jiang Xia! Master Zhang even said Liu Sheng valued him most!”

“Jiang Xia?”

Yang Zhibiao sat bolt upright. He’d heard that name just today at the group’s senior meeting.

The Cultural Dao Academy’s newly prioritized SSS-tier prodigy—rumored to be closely tied to Liu Sheng, and a former classmate of his eldest son, Yang Wei.

His heart lurched, but he quickly suppressed it.

“Regardless, they’re just students. I’m the school’s largest benefactor and chairman of Yang Group—no matter what, the Cultural Dao Academy can’t ignore my rules in Linjiang.”