Tianshui Academy, Dean's office.
"Lucien, you've been with us for a month now," the dean asked with a polite smile. "How do you find life here?"
"Well… it's alright," Lucien replied casually.
Except his gaze never once left the two jars of fine wine placed atop the dean's desk.
"That's good to hear…"
The dean's eye twitched. Half the campus walls are cracked from your shenanigans, and your answer is just 'alright'?
"Lucien, you know what, better I just get to the point. Promise me you'll do this properly?"
Lucien's eyes still lingered on the wine. Two whole jars sat there in plain view. Could he possibly misunderstand the meaning?
The dean silently cursed in her heart. This brat really does love his liquor.
"Lucien," she said firmly, "our Tianshui Academy has treated you well, hasn't it? The Continental Advanced Soul Master Elite Competition is drawing near. When the time comes, we'd like you to fight for our academy."
Lucien slapped the table, shooting to his feet with deadly seriousness. "Dean, I've always respected you as my senior, but this—this has gone too far! Heaven Dou Imperial Academy is my alma mater. It is my sacred duty to fight under their banner, to win them glory! And yet… you, of all people, would sentence me to betray my alma mater?"
He hesitated dramatically, then added: "…Two jars of wine just isn't enough."
The dean: "…"
For a second, she thought he might be apologizing. Instead, he was bargaining. Is he actually auctioning himself off?!
"How much do you want?" she asked through gritted teeth. For the championship, she was willing to bleed.
"That, I can't say yet," Lucien mused. "First I need to ask what Old Man Meng's offer is."
"…What?!"
Her jaw clenched. He wasn't just haggling, he was setting up a bidding war. How was her little Tianshui supposed to compete with the imperial coffers of Heaven Dou?
Quickly, before he pushed further, she tried steering the conversation elsewhere.
"Lucien… about Shui Bing'er. You've heard she's been cultivating faster by your side, haven't you? Couldn't you let a few more of our girls train with you?"
When Bing'er had confessed the results, she herself had been shocked. The council convened overnight. They didn't understand how it worked—but results were results. If a group of carefully selected students could cultivate by his side, their entire team would rise.
That way, even if Lucien himself refused to play for Tianshui, their academy would still reap enormous benefits.
The dean was certain Lucien wouldn't turn down a request to sit surrounded by so many beautiful girls. Who could?
But Lucien only shook his head solemnly.
"Dean, forgive me. I fear it's not possible. After all…" he sighed, face deadly serious through the haze of drink, "…you should know me by now—I've never been close to women. I avoid them whenever I can."
His bleary eyes glimmered with conviction.
The dean: "…"
"Get those jars out of my office," she muttered darkly, fighting the urge to overturn the desk.
Not close to women? Surrounded by half the kingdom's beauties every day? If Bing'er hadn't shown the results, I'd never dare send anyone near you!
Lucien slammed his hand on the desk again, eyes blazing. "Girls will only slow down my draw!"
A dramatic pause—then he grinned. "Add ten jars of wine."
"…." The dean's lips trembled.
"Fine! Fifty jars!"
Her chest rose and fell furiously. Is this still a negotiation? Who the hell haggles like this?!
Lucien laughed brightly. "Good! Dean, send the girls. I guarantee they'll feel satisfied cultivating by my side. Oh—and these two jars here, consider them Bing'er's fee for training near me. The remaining fifty? Be sure to deliver soon."
As he spoke, he uncorked one jar immediately, chugging it happily, while the other disappeared into his storage soul guide as naturally as breathing.
"By the way, Dean, as for the Elite Competition itself, I'll let you know Meng's bid price as soon as I hear back from him. At that point, you—"
"Out! At once! OUT!"
Even with the gentlest of tempers, the dean could not take more. She was on the verge of smashing both jars over his head.
As he strolled to the door, Lucien grinned back. "We were getting along fine! No need to be so hot-tempered. Menopause really makes you cranky, huh?"
The dean: "…"
Meanwhile, at Heaven Dou Academy.
"You treacherous brat! You've tricked me!" Meng Shenji's roar shook the halls as the news hit him.
Lucien was about to participate in the Tournament on behalf of Tianshui? He nearly choked in fury and stormed straight to confront Tianshui's dean.
"Dean Han, are you shameless?!"
Dean Han merely smiled. "Chief Meng, during the duration of the Elite Competition, Lucien is a student of our Tianshui Academy. What is wrong with him fighting under our banner?"
"Absurd!" Meng Shenji slammed his cane. "He's an exchange student! He belongs to Heaven Dou Royal Academy!"
"If an exchange student is a student of your academy, why not ours?" Dean Han countered smoothly. "After all, we've also sent exchange students to your academy. If you want them to compete for you, we won't object."
Meng Shenji's face went purple. Don't bring that up again! The exchange students Tianshui had sent him were all delicate, dainty girls with tiny appetites—except for that blockhead Tai Long, who devoured five meals at a time and still complained he wasn't full. Useless burdens, all of them.
"Chief Meng," Dean Han's tone was honeyed but sharp, "aren't we both trying to win glory for the Heaven Dou Empire? Your academy as a seeded team advances straight to the finals anyway. If Lucien leads Tianshui to the finals as well, doesn't the Empire look even stronger? Shouldn't a man of your stature take the long view?"
"You—!" Meng Shenji trembled violently with rage.
"And besides," she added sweetly, "all your past teams were female-only. Do your 'rules' matter so much now, when the times demand change?"
An hour later, Meng Shenji stormed away, still fuming.
"Fine," he spat coldly. "Then we'll see who wins fairly, by strength!"
He had come to stop Lucien from being stolen right out from under him, but Dean Han's shamelessness was unmatched.
He could only grit his teeth, swearing to himself—if Tianshui wanted to play dirty, then they should be ready to face him head-on.
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