I was already losing it.
Everyone around me?
Hyped out of their minds. Smiling. Laughing. Talking about how excited they were for the legendary entrance exam of Water Star Academy, the most elite school on the damn planet.
Me?
I was dying inside.
Anti-social? Check.
Social battery already on 1%? Check.
Last time I had a real conversation was with my only friend Max—who joined the U.S. freaking army and left me with a goodbye gift of silence? Big check.
Wearing a damn skirt? CHECK.
Let's talk about that last one for a second.
I. HATE. SKIRTS.
It's an insult to my masculinity.
A slap to my soul.
A betrayal of my past identity as Lee Fu, who wore hoodies, sweats, and proudly scratched his ass during game breaks.
And now I'm walking around in a tight-fitting, flowy piece of fabric that rides up when I breathe wrong.
I want to scream.
Also, side note: RIP to my dad's wallet.
Pretty sure after tuition hits, he's gonna be selling mana-charged ice cream off the back of a flying turtle just to survive.
Orientation began.
We were seated in the Great Auditorium — a massive, floating arena-like chamber lined with glowing runes, magic projectors, and freaking celestial banners made from phoenix feathers and divine cloth. The ceiling? Open sky, complete with floating islands and spirit birds soaring overhead.
But none of that mattered.
Because the Headmaster walked in.
And oh, boy.
She was a tiny old lady in a pink kimono, maybe four feet tall at best, holding a tea cup that radiated the pressure of a collapsed star.
Her spiritual energy?
Emperor-class.
I don't mean "impressive" Emperor class. I mean "I've-conquered-dimensions-and-slapped-dragon-kings-in-the-face" Emperor class.
She smiled gently.
"Welcome, dear students, to Water Star Academy."
And that was the beginning... of twenty minutes of monologuing.
Ten minutes of her talking about tradition, the spirit of knowledge, "nurturing our talents for the greater good," yadda yadda...
Zzzzzzzzzzz...
I was asleep by minute five. Head down. Drool on my desk. Dreaming of throwing this skirt into a volcano.
Then the Student Council came up.
Oh great. Another ten minutes.
But the crowd? Lost. Their. Fucking. Minds.
Screaming, cheering, waving enchanted glowsticks — like BTS and the Avengers just fused and walked on stage.
The 6 Heavenly Stars.
Not the same as the Five from before. No, these were the elite students, handpicked prodigies, spiritual monsters with power rankings off the charts.
And leading them...
Haoran Liu.
A walking fever dream of perfection.
Jet black hair, white robes that shimmered with spiritual constellations, eyes that probably saw through space-time, and an aura so pure people legit started crying when he stepped forward.
People cried.
The girl next to me legit fainted from exposure.
Another student whispered, "I can see Nirvana…"
One guy was sobbing, "My soul has been cleansed! I'm ready to transcend!"
Like bro—he's just a dude, not a Dao God.
And me?
I was picking wax out of my ear and hoping this ended soon.
Finally, orientation wrapped up.
And now came the real reason we were here.
The Entrance Exam.
Set in a colossal stone courtyard called the Entrance Hall, surrounded by ancient statues of past alumni who all looked like final bosses.
There were five tests. Five ridiculous, soul-crushing, GPA-destroying trials of doom.
1. Spiritual Energy Scan
Stand on a glowing platform. Let it read your spiritual flow.
90% of students? Between 3,000 and 8,000 units.
One cocky guy had 12,000. Crowd went wild.
Me?
I stepped on it and didn't even do anything.
Just stood there, bored.
The scanner sparked.
Then shook.
Then exploded.
The number blinked:
????
"NOT THIS AGAIN," I muttered, stepping off.
The examiner stared at me like I just gave birth to a celestial beast. "Y-You broke it with a heartbeat…"
2. Mana Capacity Scan
Same concept. Different glowing thing.
Everyone stood proud.
I stepped on it.
The device made a sad beep.
Then shrieked.
Then shut down permanently.
Result?
"Unmeasurable. Possible threat. May the gods help us."
Cool.
3. Target Exam
Hit five moving targets with controlled magic or spiritual strikes.
Easy right?
First guy? Hit three.
Second? Four.
Top scorer? Five with laser precision.
Me?
I gently flicked my finger.
The targets evaporated.
And the mountain behind the field had a hole in it the size of a stadium.
Oops.
4. Written Test
Standard academic stuff. History, theory, cultivation philosophy.
I finished it in ten minutes.
Not because I'm smart — I literally just used spiritual intuition to read the answers directly from the memory of the paper.
The proctor tried to accuse me of cheating.
Then his pen exploded.
I got full marks.
5. Sparring Exam
And finally... the part where I fight someone.
I stepped into the ring.
They called up my opponent: a 4th-year beast tamer with a spiritual panther made of fire and lightning.
She looked confident.
Until I yawned and the panther bowed to me.
And then licked my face.
And then refused to fight.
"Traitor," she hissed at her spirit animal.
I patted its head. "Good kitty."
Match ended. No contact needed.
At the end of the exam, they posted the results.
Out of 5,000 students...
Only 10% passed.
And at the very top?
"#1: Lane White – Score: Classified. Evaluation: Unknown Threat Level. Advisory: Do Not Piss Her Off."
…
Great.
Day one, and I've already been marked as a walking natural disaster.