"Cultivation is what grants identity," the teacher said calmly. "It is what separates the weak from the strong. What allows us to protect, to exist as who we are."
The deer-beast teacher stood at the front, his antlers gleaming faintly.
"There are seven stages of cultivation. I am certain that most of you are still stranded at Stage Four. Spirit Mastery. The control of qi, the refinement of techniques. Some of you.." his gaze swept the class. "...have reached Stage Five, Ascended Beast, where full beast transformation becomes possible."
A murmur rippled through the hall.
"Out of the twenty-six students here, only five have entered Stage Five."
The teacher clasped his hands behind his back. "But this academy does not judge. You are here to climb."
Ningyan nearly snorted.
He stopped himself just in time.
Stage Five? Stage Four?
He lowered his head slightly, shoulders tense.
Iam at stage One, he thought dryly.
He had never felt so painfully small in his life.
The classroom buzzed with excitement and whispered pride. Ningyan was very glad he was seated at the very back because he was two breaths away from crawling out of the room entirely.
Which… he promptly did.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Inch by inch.
The tiger beast beside him shot him a sharp look, his silver eyes narrowing. He looked so dignified, stern, every bit a proper student.
Ningyan flashed him an innocent, almost stupid smile.
Ijust want out, his eyes said.
The tiger beast hesitated… then turned back toward the teacher.
Success.
Ningyan continued.
Unbeknownst to him, Su Mingze had been watching the entire time.
From across the room, Mingze's red serpent eyes were narrowed, fixed on his stepbrother as Ningyan dragged himself along the floor like an escaping mouse.
Earlier that day, Mingze had been shaken.
Ningyan had looked… wrong.
Clean. Healthy. Dressed in fine robes fit for royalty. There had been color in his face. Life in his eyes.
He was ethereal and so radiant.
It unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
Now...
Ningyan was nearly at the exit.
He was flat on his stomach. Silent. Unnoticed.
No spiritual pressure. No qi fluctuation.
He was completely invisible.
The teacher's back was turned, antlers exposed, fully focused on his lecture.
Just one more inch.
He would make it.
"Teacher!" Mingze's voice cut through the hall sharply.
"He's leaving without permission!"
Every gaze snapped toward the door.
Ningyan froze.
His face pressed to the floor. One hand stretched toward freedom.
His cheeks burned red as a ripe cherry.
Some students laughed under their breath. Others stared, stunned.
"Su Ningyan!" the teacher snapped, his voice sharp with displeasure.
Ningyan sprang to his feet immediately. He inhaled deeply, brushing dust from his robes with an awkward, nervous chuckle before bowing deeply.
"I apologize, Teacher."
A snort came from the side.
"Disgusting cripple," Mingze muttered, not even bothering to lower his voice.
"A cripple?" a student beside him asked, curiosity piqued.
"He's my inferior stepbrother," Mingze said coldly. "Haven't you heard of him? His beast core is damaged yet he still had the audacity to follow me here."
"Oh?"
More students leaned in.
"I've heard of him," someone whispered. "His mother was a whore, wasn't she? Seduced Clan Lord Su and died giving birth."
"They say he killed her."
"If he's crippled, what is he even doing here?"
"How dare he make a fool of teacher?"
"If he wants to leave, he should just crawl out properly."
The whispers spread like wildfire across the hall.
Mingze smiled.
Meanwhile, the teacher had already begun walking toward Ningyan.
Ningyan stood still, head lowered, fists clenched at his sides.
He hated this.
Beastmen loved gossip. They didn't even try to hide it. They were speaking as if he wasn't even there. And Ningyan couldn't deny it anymore.
He was furious.
"You are Su Ningyan," the teacher said, his voice carrying heavy authority. "Illegitimate son of Clan Lord Su Zhaoyan of the Phoenix Clan."
The weight of the words pressed down on the room.
Ningyan lifted his head slowly to meet the deer beast's gaze. The teacher was tall, antlers towering, long black hair falling down his back. His presence alone was enough to suppress weaker students.
"Just Su Ningyan is fine," Ningyan said, forcing a smile.
Maybe getting on his bad side isn't such a bad idea, he thought wildly.
If I get expelled, the spirit mate chain...
Su Ningyan wanted to scream.
"I cannot feel a single trace of spiritual energy from you," the teacher said slowly.
"Well," Ningyan replied evenly, "I have a damaged beast core."
"So I've heard." The teacher's lips twitched faintly. Then his eyes sharpened. "How are you not insane?"
Ningyan knew about that.
A ruptured beast core often drove beastmen insane. It was common knowledge. Their qi ran wild, their minds fractured. Most never recovered.
But Book Su Ningyan hadn't gone insane.
He had only gone mad later, when he began using demon qi.
"Maybe it's because it happened when I was still a child," Ningyan replied calmly.
The teacher nodded slowly. "Are you cultivating?"
"Stage One is enough for me," Ningyan said boldly. "Or perhaps…" His gaze sharpened as he met the teacher's eyes without flinching. "I could take another route. One that lets me find my identity and protect myself."
Curiosity flickered in the instructor's gaze.
"Oh?" he said. "And what route would that be?"
"Demon qi."
Silence rippled through the hall.
Students froze. Some looked horrified. Others stared at Ningyan like he had just declared himself a walking corpse.
The teacher's expression darkened instantly.
"That is deviant behavior," he growled.
A crushing wave of spiritual pressure slammed into Ningyan.
He stumbled back, laughing awkwardly, waving his hands in a hurried, placating motion. "I said perhaps! Perhaps! I'm not doing that! I don't even know if it's possible!"
He turned on his heel.
"I'll be taking my leave now.. bye!"
And then he bolted.
Ningyan ran through the halls, past stunned students who had overheard, past courtyards and pillars, until the pressure finally vanished and he found himself outside by the bridge.
He bent over, hands on his knees, breathing hard. Then he laughed.
He straightened and stared at his reflection in the water below, eyes bright.
"At least that got me out of class."
He leaned against the stone railing, then climbed up and sat on it, legs swinging freely over the water. The wind threaded through his hair, cool and calming.
"They really hate demon qi…" he murmured, smacking his lips thoughtfully. "Well. I do know the consequences."
He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a flute.
Just as he lifted it to his lips, a deep, whispered voice slid right against his ear.
"What do you know about demon qi?"