"You are all potential students of the Heavenly Star Academy. Those of you who pass the final trial will study martial arts here. Martial arts have changed since ancient times, but in the end, only the three strongest types remain: Flame Martial Arts, Dragon Martial Arts, and Star Martial Arts," explained a tall, athletic man with bright turquoise hair. He had just demonstrated a body transformation into a combat form, growing short orange horns on his forehead, scales on his forearms, and claws on his hands. "I believe from the changes in my body, you have all realized that I possess the Dragon Martial Art," he continued, turning toward a massive piece of rock a couple of stories high, clearly transported into the academy courtyard specifically for this demonstration. "In people like me, the blood that flows through our veins is almost identical to the blood of dragons. I can deliver strikes of immense power. For example, like this!"
The man wound up and drove his fist into the stone with a short, direct punch. The speed and power of the strike were such that a deep hollow, at least half a meter in diameter and seemingly reaching halfway through the boulder, appeared in the rock. The accompanying thunderous crash and the rising cloud of dust matched the result perfectly, causing most of the youth gathered before the building to drop their jaws in amazement and begin admiring him excitedly. For nearly two minutes, the courtyard was plunged into a noisy mess of voices and movement. Everyone wanted a closer look; everyone wanted to share their impressions.
I remained silent, watching everything from the sidelines while experiencing a complex set of emotions.
Two days ago, I woke up in an inn's most expensive room and realized with surprise that I didn't understand who I was. It wasn't that I didn't remember; on the contrary, I had memories, but the name Lian Yu evoked absolutely no response in my soul. I knew that was the name of my body's owner and had no trouble accessing his memories, but I felt nothing of myself in that set of sounds and images. It is difficult to describe a state where everything around you is clear and obvious, yet alien and foreign. Where actions, behaviors, and thoughts that you remember as your own are perceived as someone else's—often wild to the point of absurdity, nonsense, and a refusal to believe that such stupidity was even possible. Where the culture and laws of the surrounding society are understood intellectually but cause alienation, or even disgusted bewilderment. Where, looking at people's faces, you remember what connects you but feel nothing toward them... or rather, you perceive them as if seeing them for the first time.
The situation was exacerbated by the fact that I possessed a formidable baggage of knowledge that a young aristocrat named Lian Yu could not have acquired anywhere. The world around me was a bizarre mixture of a magical Middle Ages executed with Chinese flavor and some kind of Japanese anime. Literally—all the people around me and my own reflection in the mirror looked like drawn characters that had stepped off a television screen. Only there was no "drawing" to them; on the contrary, everything was extremely real, three-dimensional, and alive, just completely unlike the "real" people I remembered. It was like comparing an Indian man to a peasant from Ryazan, only with the color correction of the former's entire body cranked up toward increased brightness. And the very fact that I knew the meaning of the words "China," "Japan," "anime," "television," "Indians," and "Ryazan" proved with certainty that I was not Lian Yu.
In the local ecumene, there were no such countries or concepts. Technology here rarely reached the level of a water wheel, and even magic—the very presence of which felt unnatural to me, though it was routine for the locals—remained in a state of individual combat potential heavily mixed with personal qualities and intuition, without even trying to look toward domestic needs or the civil sector. At best, local craftsmen created artifacts—weapons and medicines—but never steam engines.
And it would seem—there it is, the riddle of my identity is solved. However, it wasn't that simple. I had a lot of knowledge, and this knowledge, unlike Lian Yu's memories, truly felt like mine, but there was nothing personal in it. There was absolutely nothing about myself, only external facts, at best accompanied by the certainty that I had read or heard it, but nothing about who I was, what I did, whom I knew, or what I had gone through. No name, no profession, no age. Perhaps the only thing I could be sure of was my gender—I was definitely a man, not a woman, but that was it.
Not the worst situation, in principle. At least I am capable of thinking clearly, I have information about the surrounding world, I am not on a chain, and I am generally headed for studies at a prestigious magical academy. Or rather, a martial arts academy, but here they are a direct analog of magic, albeit with a Chinese flavor of fist-swinging and leg-flailing under pompous technique names. Another bonus was belonging to a fairly high-ranking aristocratic lineage, which, while not in the country's top ten, allowed me to politely approach that top ten and say hello without bowing too low, which is quite something in local realities. We have Eastern despotism in every crack here, and it costs a superior nothing to force a vassal to lick his boots. Literally lick them, without any metaphor. They would only hesitate to do so toward someone strong; if you are weak, you are a slave. Such a wonderful place.
And all would be well; I would even come to terms with the unpleasant fact that I am, essentially, last in line to inherit the title of Clan Head and the prime candidate for a sudden "accident" that my dearest relatives will surely try to arrange the moment my grandfather dies. After all, "to be is better than not to be," and it is certainly better to be some kind of heir to a powerful family than a disenfranchised slave on a plantation. Lian Yu's grandfather, again, is still sturdy and has no intention of dying anytime soon; despite being a Clan Elder, his personal strength makes him nearly the second or third most powerful man in the clan—it doesn't matter which—what matters is that you can't just knock him over, and he stands up for his grandson. I repeat, all would be well...
Except I knew this world.
I didn't know it from Lian Yu's memory; that's not what I'm talking about. I saw this world in the knowledge that was mine. A world depicted in colorful pictures in a Chinese entertainment comic. This was a fictional world. With a fictional history. A history where I—or rather, Lian Yu—acted as a minor villain who became the first trial for the true hero of the entire narrative.
And I would be happy to doubt and disbelieve—after all, who knows how many people named Lian Yu and families called the "Dark Moon Clan" there are in a magical pseudo-China—but the face of the turquoise-haired instructor, who greets the reader on literally the first page of the manhua and who just performed the canonical scene of punching a rock before my eyes, dispelled the last doubts. Long dark hair and purple eyes in the mirror are one thing, but a man morphing into a half-dragon before a crowd of incoming students and then giving a speech about the three types of martial arts, set against the backdrop of already existing suspicions and established facts like the name of my clan... Let's just say, one can enter the denial stage here too, but it wouldn't be a very wise move. As some wise man said: when choosing, one should prefer the incredible but possible over the possible but incredible. Well, falling into the world of a fictional story in the role of the first throwaway villain is incredible but possible; at the very least, I already woke up in Lian Yu's body two days ago. At the same time, the appearance, the name, the family, the surrounding world, the instructor at the academy, the academy itself—all of this could be a coincidence. Coincidences are possible in general, but so many coincidences at once is already incredible.
And here, the question stood before me in full stature: what should I do? I didn't know this story to the end, but I remembered most of the initial plot milestones fairly well. In general, it was classic Chinese pulp where a weak, kind, and thoroughly positive protagonist is first subjected to humiliation and beatings, and then suddenly gains great power and takes revenge on everyone, slowly starting to behave exactly like those who oppressed him and whom he hated for such behavior. The only difference from the truly classic scenario, where the hero finds a "power artifact" in random bushes by the road after the plot begins, is that the local D'Artagnan supposedly had huge potential from the start and simply had no opportunity to reveal it until entering the academy. Still, the prospect of being a stepping stone on the protagonist's path to greatness does not appeal to me, and something must be done about it—thinking very carefully, because the banal option of not picking a fight will achieve little in my situation.
While I was sinking into somber thoughts about my role in the universe, the crowd of students cooled down a bit and began to regain some semblance of decent behavior. A very conditional semblance, but now at least voices weren't just shouting variations of "Teacher, that was cool!" or "Will you teach us that move?" or "We didn't know you were that strong!" and so on. Actual relevant questions started to pop up:
"Tell us, the Dragon Martial Art is the strongest of all three, isn't it?"
"No," the instructor's voice lashed out laconically, cutting off the beginning of a clamor from those who wanted to complain that the boy had asked such a stupid question after such a demonstration—implied to mean that it was obviously the strongest and all that. "Dragons are the most common," the man began to explain once silence was achieved, "but the Flame Martial Art is stronger. A Dragon can only defeat a master of flame who is not higher than their own rank, and even then, only one-on-one. Those who master the art of flame can strike a massive area with their attacks, so they are capable of defeating several dragons of the same rank as themselves at once. If you meet a master of flame face-to-face, you won't be able to run even if you wanted to. There is no hiding from fire."
A disappointed murmur from the youngsters echoed through the courtyard, making me involuntarily marvel internally at the twists of the local education system. It must be said, mass education here wasn't too bad for the Middle Ages; at least everyone could read and write, even the most low-born peasants, though the latter did it worse than the rest. Moreover, the local writing was a complete copy of Chinese characters; I would say they were exactly them, but among my knowledge, there was no Chinese language, and I only remembered a few extremely general facts about the writing of the Celestial Empire, so I couldn't say for sure. Nevertheless, it was normal for the local language to have the principle that the same concept could have up to a dozen or more different and unrelated writing variants, just as the same character could have vastly different meanings depending on its place in the line and the characters surrounding it. In other words, to understand all this, one must spend much more time and effort than on three years of parish school. To this, it should be added that those gathered in the academy courtyard were far from low-born peasants, but people at least originating from military families—and not rank-and-file, but officer-level, even if junior. But that was the absolute minimum, where parents had saved up rewards and money through blameless service to be able to send their beloved child to a prestigious academy, thereby giving them a ticket to life and the real upper echelons. There were a maximum of a couple of such people here, but the majority were children of noble families and clans considered proper aristocracy. Of course, offspring from the highest echelons were also few, and the main contingent consisted of vassals of the full-fledged masters of life, often working in the fields themselves to feed themselves. Nevertheless, they had all received initial training and could already do something with the local magic, but... for some reason, they were still surprised by the basics that literally everyone in the country should know, even without practicing martial arts themselves. Distinguishing one practitioner from another and knowing what to expect from whom is, after all, a matter of elementary survival.
"Teacher," the Brownian motion of the teenagers spat out another curious soul who approached the instructor with respect.
I should have just let my gaze slide over him and put him out of my mind, but the moment I saw him, my eyes locked on tight, and an unpleasant tremor began to spread through my body.
Well, hello there, you shamelessly lucky, outrageously strong, and impenetrably hypocritical protagonist of Chinese xianxia.
"Yes?" the instructor turned toward the voice.
"I have a request for you," the boy said, folding his hands before him in a respectful gesture. He had long brown hair gathered in a ponytail. Local men generally wore long hair that would make any girl jealous, and I was no exception.
"What is it?"
"Could you tell us about the Star Martial Art? You told us about the strengths and weaknesses of the Dragon and Flame arts, but you said nothing about those who possess the Star art."
Ye Xinghe of the Azure Feather Clan... A humble, respectful boy in inexpensive but neat clothes of calm, light green tones—he was exactly as I remembered him from the pages of the manhua, with the caveat that here and now I wasn't seeing a two-dimensional picture. His family was a vassal of mine, and a extremely low-ranking vassal at that; essentially, at this moment, the clan had openly degenerated, representing more of a peasant community than a clan of martial arts practitioners who are obliged to appear at the first request of their liege, providing a combat-ready military unit in full equipment, with forage and baggage. I didn't know the entire backstory and the prerequisites for such a situation, but the fact remained—from generation to generation, the level of Azure Feather fighters had steadily fallen. Either they simply weren't producing people with good magical potential, or they failed to organize training correctly, resulting in them burying their talents in the ground themselves, but by now they fully deserved to be called a disgrace, if not something coarser. According to local concepts, by the way, it was the coarser terms that should be used, because squandering the legacy of your ancestors here is worse than going out to the city's central square naked, smearing yourself with shit, and starting to crow like a rooster. It is a shame that puts a cross on the entire family, and it's lucky if the family remains more or less strong enough to force people to reckon with them—then it's just side-eyes and constant reminders in the "ha-ha, losers!" vein in a form acceptable to polite society—but if you've squandered everything to the point that you're barely different from black-footed peasants... Here, people will treat you like the lowest scum and call you that to your face without flinching.
Actually, that was exactly the reason for the canonical conflict between Lian Yu and Ye Xinghe. A noble aristocrat with decent potential, but well aware of the shakiness of his position in the family—which is why he didn't feel much positivity about the future—saw a vassal from a clan of total scum who ended up in the same "class" as him but didn't even think to approach and show respect. Then, the vassal even dared to act tough and answer as an equal when Lian Yu himself approached him to clarify the situation. The question of hierarchy in local society is a question of, well, everything; for a dirty look not according to rank, you can lose your head. Or your entire reputation if you ignore such a look. Or rather, everyone firmly believes in this and carefully monitors the observance of boundaries, especially those whose own position isn't perfect. A strong man can afford to ignore the chirping of insects, and no one will say a word to him, but a weak man must cling to his place with his teeth, or he will simply lose it in an instant. Eastern despotism in every crack, damn it.
And our respectful hero is no different here, even though a good half of his development was built on thoughts of how he is against such a state of affairs, how immoral he considers it, and how deeply he disapproves. Once the little one's teeth grew in, he not only thrashed his old offenders—including literally killing most of the Dark Moon Clan—but he also started treating every passerby as the very same scum everyone had recently considered his family to be. The polite, well-bred boy, playing for sympathy and never missing a chance to mention how he condemns an unjust society where superiors won't even listen to inferiors, let alone talk to them as equals, turned into an alpha male as sudden as diarrhea, who didn't give a damn about any authorities and was ready to kick anyone in the face just for daring to distract him while he was walking.
To be fair, I understand him. It's not a very pleasant truth, but I would likely have been unable to avoid the temptation to decompose morally and compensate myself for all the years of a "happy childhood" if I were in his shoes. The problem, however, is that while I understand everything, basic logic and common sense shout in unison that such a character should be quietly poisoned before he has time to come into his strength.
I would probably do exactly that... but there was one flaw in that plan... or rather, two.
First, the luck of a Chinese protagonist is such an ultimate thing that you can't really go against it. Or rather, you can try, but if the situation develops the same way it did with all the wicked plans of his enemies in the canon, I'm screwed. I don't know how real or solid "plot armor" is as a substance, but I don't want to test such matters on myself. Maybe it can be called cowardice, but it's better to be a living and healthy coward than a dead and previously severely mutilated hero.
The "secondly" brings me back to the fact that the option of simply not entering into conflict with him gives me little in terms of safety. Ye Xinghe's war with the Dark Moon Clan is programmed anyway, and in the canon, he mowed down my dear relatives in literal batches, not really caring who was who. He already secretly hates my family, so once he gets power, he will show his character in any case, thereby provoking Dark Moon into retaliatory actions. Nowhere will people turn a blind eye to a vassal insulting his liege, and in the realities of an Asian fetish for social status and "What will people think?", killing the guy and destroying his kin will become literally a matter of honor for the entire leadership of the Dark Moon Clan...
"The Star art can be called unique," the instructor began to answer in the meantime.
"Unique?" Ye Xinghe asked artlessly, ignoring the fact that he had essentially interrupted the teacher.
"Yes," the man replied, apparently used to even worse behavior from students. "The power of the stars gives its possessors skills depending on the stars. Healing, speed..." The instructor shrugged, as if saying he didn't intend to list everything. "Thus, they can easily defeat any opponent."
"So, star warriors are not weak, but even the opposite?!" the representative of the Azure Feather Clan burned with enthusiasm.
"Well... Not exactly," the teacher's cheek twitched, and from his look, it was clear he didn't master the topic very well himself. "At least, not now."
"Not now? What do you mean by that?"
"In the past, there were several formidable star masters, but that time has passed," the big man shrugged. "Experts of the Star Art became fewer and fewer, as did ordinary possessors of this power. Combat techniques were lost. A possessor of the Star art goes against the will of Heaven and therefore cannot inherit any of a teacher's techniques. That is why there are very few fighters currently who have reached the Ninth Heavenly Layer."
Ye Xinghe immediately slumped, and a clamor of discussion rose among the students again. I sighed inwardly. The topic of inheriting techniques and generally the principles of how local magical traditions worked was a sore spot for me. There was too much that was amorphous and intuitive in all of it. A standard description of some technique looked like an utterly amorphous phrase, like "Feel the Force, Luke!", framed in the most non-specific concepts but with a claim to poetry and depth of hidden meanings. Accordingly, studying this technique looked like an attempt to meditate on this hidden meaning until enlightenment struck you, after which you'd scream "Eureka! I got it!" and rush to try applying the power in the way that just popped into your head. I don't know how, but it actually worked, and locals managed to achieve repeatable effects following such instructions. It was easiest for the Dragons—their martial arts, styles, and techniques were closest to normal martial arts and had the smallest volume of mystical elements, which allowed them to train normally without the acute need to solve the deep philosophical puzzles of past authors. It was harder for flame fighters, but here a teacher could at least help by explaining clearly how and what to do, showing the execution, and even, apparently in rare cases, passing the skill-knowledge directly through energy synchronization. But for star masters, everything was through the ass, and one practitioner could completely fail to understand the instructions and explanations of another, regardless of personal experience and strength.
Ye Xinghe, by the way, was exactly like that, if my memory serves me right. Having received almost the most basic pamphlet with some trash technique for absolute beginners, he suddenly saw in it universal wisdom at a god-like level and began to churn out moves that made even seasoned archmagi drip with sweat.
I'm half-tempted to take that pamphlet from him and, under the guise of a friendly gesture, hand him something expensive and curly that everyone considers cool, but which for him specifically would turn out to be crooked and useless trash. If I had more time to prepare, I would definitely have done that, but right now I didn't have anything on Star martial arts with me. Lian Yu had a predisposition for flame, and his entire retinue, also entering the academy, consisted of flame users and dragons.
While I was thinking, the instructor encouraged the dejected guy and left, warning us that we had two hours to rest before the final magic talent test. We had passed the physical condition check just before the rock-punching demonstration, so many truly needed the rest.
And so the protagonist of this play returns to his place away from the main cluster of people and sits on the grass, preparing to wait, while I return to the question of "what to do?" I also sat to the side, surrounded only by my companions who arrived at the academy with me from the Dark Moon Clan. They were not direct relatives, but they belonged to the family strongly enough to be part of an heir's retinue. A junior heir, admittedly, which also spoke to their position, though their service to me was more tied to intra-clan connections—that is, their families specifically were dependent on my "branch" of the Dark Moon family tree, rather than on the branches of the Clan Head or the families of other heirs and elders. But that's not the point.
As regrettable as it is, if I want to survive, I will have to interact with Ye Xinghe somehow. At least at first. After all, all my "dear relatives" are supposed to get killed because of him, even if in the canon that didn't happen without Lian Yu's "help," who, despite catching his portion of humiliation, figured out which way the wind was blowing in time and managed to overcome his thirst for revenge and turn on his brain to take advantage of the situation. However, even though I know all of Lian Yu's canonical moves and have his memory, without this young hypocrite Ye Xinghe, I have no chance of standing up against the current Clan Head and his favorites for the transfer of power. Or rather, the chances of coming out of that confrontation as a winner are very slim. This is not even counting the fact that we have a bit of a civil war on the horizon, in which a great many people are involved, including the turquoise-haired instructor from earlier. And these brave fighters against tyranny and despotism are not only serious guys, but they are also planning to slaughter the lion's share of students in this academy this year—mostly those of aristocratic origin—and those they don't slaughter, they plan to take prisoner and blackmail their relatives with them. And I, naturally, am also on the list, and by no means for the fate of a prisoner, because my relatives will gladly write me off, which everyone who needs to know actually knows. And the revolutionaries need to know; they have very good intelligence. Ye Xinghe didn't exactly become best friends with these guys, but his luck and plot armor worked in such a way that he managed to become an authoritative and untouchable person for them, which extended to his clan with great profit for the latter.
And all this is against the background that I myself have no idea what my situation will be with magic in general and its application in particular. I still had Lian Yu's skills—I felt the Qi energy in me and could control it, at least at the level that could be checked on the road without attracting the attention of the escorts—but the question is, did I keep his development potential? Here, this parameter directly depends on the soul—its strength—and my soul is far from guaranteed to be Lian Yu's soul. In the sense that it is not excluded, but the direct opposite is equally probable. I have no opportunity to check or investigate the issue; local magic allows interaction with souls, but all practices related to this section are far beyond the Second Heavenly Layer of development, which Lian Yu was at before my awakening. In other words, everything is very uncertain regarding my prospects.
Nevertheless, if reasoning purely practically, I have two options for action right here and now. The first is to do nothing, stay in the shadows, remain meaningfully silent, and wait for the test, after which everything will become clear at least regarding magic. This option is good because I won't expose myself to conflict, and if something goes wrong, the reputational hit to me will be much smaller than if I attract attention from the start. There is one downside—I lose the chance to befriend the protagonist at the moment when he doesn't yet know about his genius. As a result, even if I treat him kindly later, the guy will simply decide that it's all about his talent and that I am sucking up to use him. And these aren't my guesses—that's exactly how he treated the daughter of the provincial governor who tried to befriend him when he showed his potential. And that girl was a beauty the likes of which are few, and she was sincere with him, without malice, yet he barely speaks to her through his teeth for nearly a hundred chapters until she almost loses her life for him a couple of times. Only I am not a beauty with gorgeous platinum hair, and I won't be risking my life for him, so even a friendship forged through the thorns of trials is not in the cards for me in such a scenario.
Accordingly, the second option is to approach the guy and be the first to extend the hand of friendship while being in the position of the stronger one who needs nothing from him. In short, to play the noble liege—the samurai's dream, who values his vassals, does not share the villainous ways of his family, and all that. Pros: avoiding conflict, probable friendship. And everything would be great, except that if a liege approaches a bottom-tier vassal—especially one so stupid or arrogant that he didn't notice or ignored his presence despite the characteristic pattern on his clothes, at the mere sight of which he should have stood at attention—and then talks to him first, and politely at that... Truly, smearing oneself with shit and feathers would cause less damage to one's reputation. And even if I don't share local concepts of worthy behavior and shameful honor—or rather, I don't find everything accepted here to be adequate—I cannot fail to take into account these concepts and the surrounding world's reaction to their non-observance. Simply because I want to live, because a junior heir who shames the clan can be poisoned, or even have his head taken off with the first available hacking tool without any refinements. Despotism. Eastern. In every crack. With a Chinese flavor, only slightly—just the tiniest bit—diluted by an anime entourage and the brightness of the surrounding colors.
On the other hand, as soon as Ye Xinghe's talents become known, many of my "colleagues in the trade" might well think that I, as the liege, perfectly knew the vassal's true potential and showed full patronage and support for a promising character. Such a move, on the contrary, would add to my reputation, as it would show my "wisdom," read—shrewdness, being informed, and general savvy. Pros of such an outcome? Reputation among my level of social circles will grow. That's not bad, though it doesn't carry much special benefit. Cons? There are those too! How could there not be... Or rather, one specific con. My first cousin once removed, Lian Xian, who is the acting Head of the Dark Moon Clan, will quite reasonably become interested in why a junior heir himself went to make friends with a promising vassal instead of passing knowledge about him to more "wise"—that is, older and closer—comrades? Or rather, the junior's reasons will be obvious and clear to everyone—the desire to rake things in for oneself is also quite logical and appropriate. However, given my position in the clan, this could lead to a cup of poison or a rope around my neck even faster than the previous point. Perhaps even a silk one and with all due respect, but my neck won't give a damn.
Thus, weighing the options and consequences, I increasingly came to the conclusion that "doing nothing" is currently the most reasonable choice for me.
My gaze drifted aimlessly through the crowd of students, reflexively noting the subtle details that signaled their clan affiliations and social status as either minor or major houses. The latter were naturally few and far between, and even those present paled in comparison to the Dark Moon Clan. However, at one point, my eyes caught the dress of a brown-haired girl, and I remembered something.
I had completely forgotten about the other key figures of the plot, focusing only on the main character, yet there should be at least two other central figures here. First, there was An Xueyun of the House of Limitless Heavens, destined to become the lifelong love of our heroic powerhouse and gatherer of ancient treasures—which is what every Chinese protagonist, including Ye Xinghe, essentially is. Lian Yu's memory knew her name well; after all, the House of Limitless Heavens was comparable in status and power to the Dark Moon Clan in this region, and an heir to a neighboring house simply could not be ignorant of the clan head's eldest daughter. They were not personally acquainted, but identifying An Xueyun by her clothes and description was easy, especially since she looked much like her image in the manhua. She was a pretty, petite girl with long, voluminous light-brown hair tied into several ponytails—two framing her face and one arranged in an intricate bow at the back of her head. In her clothing, she preferred red and soft peach tones. Against the backdrop of my memories of non-anime Earth women, I would call her a dazzling beauty, but... among the locals, she didn't particularly stand out. A high, well-defined chest, a narrow waist, a harmoniously built figure, perfect skin without the slightest blemish... This could describe literally any girl on this plaza, and there were plenty of girls here. To be perfectly honest, An Xueyun's role boiled down to the "kind princess" archetype, who first extends a helping hand to the hero, encouraging and supporting him out of pure heart, and then falls in love under the influence of heroic charisma and the plot-convenient crutches of awkward accidents. Eventually, she becomes his motivation for further growth, because how can one manage without a "damsel in distress" plot twist where she must be snatched from the hands of vile villains forcing her into a political marriage? No, a true Chinese hero is practically obligated to steal the girl from the altar, humiliating and beating both her relatives and the husband's family in the process. Both parties, of course, must be extremely high-ranking and arrogant scum who—how dare they—presume to live according to their own interests without asking the hero's permission first, and who possess the audacity to not want to give their daughter-bride to the first aggressive teenager who desires her. In short, a hard life full of hardship awaits the girl, for the hero must strive for power and overcome the mighty of this world. And since a hero cannot simply love magic and desire power—as that would make him "problematic" or "toxic," or at the very least, not a positive character—terrible grievances against injustice and a thirst for righteous revenge are mandatory.
I would be glad to dial back the bitterness in my thoughts, but I genuinely felt sorry for the girl. The plot gave her no chance for even the appearance of independence, despite the fact that she was talented, with potential exceeding Lian Yu's and only slightly trailing Ye Xinghe's. Unfortunately, I saw no way to help her, as she was just as trapped as I was. Her family ignored her opinions and had long ago written her off as a resource intended solely for improving political standing through marriage to an heir of a high-ranking capital house. She had no personal strength—at least none that carried any weight—and her only ally was the future hero-avenger, who simply wanted her for himself without even considering giving his "beloved" a freedom of choice. It was a bleak picture no matter how you looked at it.
In this light, even approaching her to say hello felt shameful. In a different situation, I might have considered courting her, but with the knowledge of everything awaiting her and what lay in her heart, such behavior would be simply vile. She didn't want to marry the "prince" from the capital but could do nothing about it, so any signs of attention would only remind her of this painful subject, and I had no desire to cause her pain. Furthermore, giving Ye Xinghe an extra reason to finish me off out of jealousy... forget it. I didn't need that kind of extreme. Besides, despite her objective beauty, my heart didn't flutter when I looked at her, which meant there was no reason to fuss and deceive both her and myself.
The second important figure, currently hovering around An Xueyun, was a short, blond-haired boy from a side branch of the House of Limitless Heavens. I couldn't remember his name, and Lian Yu's memory was no help—there was no reason for a Dark Moon heir to know the names of every teenager from minor families who were vassals of other clans. However, the name didn't matter; the role was what counted. And this guy's role was a lively one: terrorist, assassin, anti-hero, friend of the hero, rebel who slaughters his own allies without a shred of conscience, and finally, a practitioner of several extremely rare martial arts, including what is called necromancy here, though it had nothing to do with raising skeletons or zombies. In short, he was quite the character, someone who, by all rights, should have been strangled in his cradle, because in his ideological fanaticism, this fellow's hypocrisy far exceeded that of any Jesuit. He sincerely considered himself a good person doing real good. He, by the way, would be the main butcher of the academy's students during the operation his organization planned for this year, and in terms of power, he constantly surpassed Ye Xinghe thanks to his forbidden and forgotten techniques.
And... I had no idea what to do with him either. Clearly, he was an irreconcilable enemy to me, someone with whom talking was pointless because he saw himself as a champion for the rights of the common people and me as a vile oppressor. Clearly, he and his partner—who had infiltrated the academy as a teacher—should be buried under the nearest bush, but the question was how? I couldn't handle it myself, and turning them in to the administration... How? How could I prove they were rebel terrorists? How would I explain how I knew?
Oh, gods, great powers, or whoever else is up there—truly, ignorance is bliss, and all woe comes from wit! I knew the future, and it gave me nothing but a headache and the feeling of being a cornered rabbit. The more I thought about it, the sadder I became. I might as well sit in meditation just to distract myself...
Actually, that wasn't a bad idea.
I looked around once more, noting the environment more deliberately. The instructor-turned-secret-terrorist who had stepped away earlier had returned and was maintaining order. The teenagers were idling as best they could, with many actually trying to meditate, either to combat pre-test jitters or to use the moment to train their Qi and Dantian—essentially, the magical reservoir and source upon which all local mysticism rests. And... it was wise. Sitting for two hours and stressing about what awaited me was a dead end, but training was training. It was useful by definition.
Taking a deep breath, I adjusted my posture, closing my eyes and relaxing my abdominal muscles. Now, to concentrate on the spark of the Dantian, felt two fingers below the navel, and drawing Qi from it, I moved it through the main meridian pathway toward the lower back and from there to the crown of my head to complete the circle by returning it to the Dantian. This was one of the basic exercises for increasing the amount of Qi and strengthening the body. In two hours, the cycle could be repeated about two hundred times. As the volume of energy involved in circulation grew, I could launch it into more and more energy channels, giving them the necessary training load. At the very least, there would be some effect, and perhaps all my worries would fade into the background.
The sensations from the procedure very quickly pushed all stray thoughts from my mind. For the Lian Yu I had been three days ago, such training was not overly difficult but was tedious and mentally exhausting. It was hard for a young sixteen-year-old boy to sit in one place for long, and he had to apply serious willpower for this necessary and vital work. I, however, was openly enjoying the sensation of energy movement, its very presence in my body, and the fact that I could control it. It was simply... magical. Jokes aside, I was actually touching a miracle—magic. I didn't know who I had been before waking up in this body, but I knew for certain that the old me lacked this ability. Everything in me, even without concrete memories, shouted at the level of raw sensation and reaction that in the past, I had desperately dreamed of this, but my dreams had been in vain, only fueling an interest and thirst to be part of something mystical that transcended a dull reality. The feeling of a long-standing, weary dream that had lost all hope of success but refused to disappear—the moment I concentrated on my Qi, felt power over it and the possibility for its development, echoes of those emotions exploded in my consciousness like a firework of drunken happiness and delight. In this state, I easily detached from any physical discomfort, surrounding noise, or unnecessary thoughts. Before my inner eye, flows of Qi twisted, merging into a continuous crimson-glowing loop that grew slowly but relentlessly with each new iteration of the cycle, spreading through my entire organism until the concentration and volume of energy turned the ring into a blazing fire enveloping my whole body. And the sensations that rolled over me under the petals of this flame, the sensations that broadened and grew in the Dantian during this time... I didn't even know what to compare them to, but I reveled in these feelings to a state of total relaxation.
Unsurprisingly, the break time flew by in an instant, and it was a good thing my companions were proper pseudo-Chinese vassals who kept their mouths shut, never even thinking to distract me from the process.
An Xueyun. Same location.
The girl stood in a shaded corner of the park where she, along with other candidates, had recently finished the physical fitness test and was now awaiting the start of the spiritual ability exam. Despite the fact that for a practitioner of the Second Heavenly Layer like her, testing simple strength and endurance posed no problems, a tremor still gripped her soul, for her fate would be decided in a few dozen minutes. Would she be able to become a student of the Heavenly Star Academy or would she be sent home in disgrace? Home, where her chances of escaping her forced fate would finally vanish. Of course, her home tutors claimed she had nothing to worry about, but... doubts continued to plague her mind. Was it just flattery or politeness? Was there some hidden motive behind those words? What if it turned out that the level she had already reached was her lifelong limit and she had already exhausted her potential? Or what should she do if her talent turned out to be ordinary, or even below average, and all her progress was merely the result of clan teachers' efforts and the spiritual elixirs they occasionally gave her for training? She would know the answers soon enough; she only had to wait, but whether they would gladden her heart was a fear that gave An Xueyun no peace.
Suddenly, her attention was caught by the steady glow of Qi emanating from a dark-haired boy in a white tangzhuang, the sleeves and trim of which were decorated with an exquisite floral pattern. He had settled into a meditation posture not far from her chosen waiting spot and was completely ignoring the surrounding noise and bustle, fully immersed in his training. His robes and features, along with the colors of the clothes of the group surrounding him, made it clear that a young heir of the Dark Moon Clan was present in the academy courtyard. The youth was perfectly calm, but the crimson-hued Qi swirling around him spoke of a serious and intense meditation.
"What steady Qi..." the girl noted involuntarily, watching the ripples of energy that enveloped almost the boy's entire body. Only after a few seconds did she become truly surprised. "But wait, how much time has passed since the demonstration ended?" The girl looked around in confusion, seeking signs that she had missed something, but finding none. "Ten minutes? Impossible. He couldn't have started meditating during the instructor's speech, could he? To achieve such an effect from Qi circulation, you need at least fifteen minutes!"
"What is he doing?" she heard the voice of one of her subordinates.
"It looks like he's training..." another voice replied.
"Who would do that right in the courtyard? Who is that guy?" the first one wondered, clearly having never had the chance to see anyone from the Major Families so closely before.
"You don't know him?" a third voice asked, belonging to a red-haired boy from the vassals of the House of Thunder. "That's Lian Yu—the young master of the Dark Moon Clan! They are one of the main families. Second in Tianzung only to the family of the Lord of the Northern Guard. Six cities in our province are under their rule. Some of the students around him are also from the Dark Moon family!"
"But why strain yourself so much before the trials? Isn't he afraid of getting tired and failing?" asked a new participant in the discussion, standing near Lian Yu's meditation spot.
"That's none of your business," a neighbor of the meditating boy snapped back. "If the young master from Dark Moon decided he needs to train, then who are we to discuss it?"
"Yes... of course," the student said, not pushing the conflict, though his face and posture suggested he considered such behavior foolish.
An Xueyun, on the contrary, thought that Lian Yu's idea wasn't actually bad. Of course, one shouldn't overdo it as intensely as the boy was, but clearing the mind and getting into a businesslike mood before the trial would be useful.
Coming to this conclusion, the girl did not delay and resolutely sat on the soft lawn, closing her eyes. No matter how much the future frightened her, she would do everything to meet it with dignity and would certainly follow the example sent to her by the gods.
The one who was now Lian Yu, the junior heir of the Dark Moon Clan.
After leading us through the academy grounds to one of the central buildings, the instructor stopped before doors that better deserved the name "gates" and gave a brief instruction, reminding us that all frivolity and laziness should be left outside the hall, and once inside, we should keep ourselves in check. Figuratively speaking.
Then the gates were opened, and a crowd of tense teenagers spilled into a massive hall worthy of the palaces of the major families. A foyer about thirty meters wide transitioned into a staircase covered in a red carpet. Beyond the stairs lay another hall with rows of wooden tables, and far in the distance rose the final tier with seats for the esteemed admissions committee. All this splendor was punctuated by columns, lamps, and expensive finishes, which most of the guests stared at with open mouths, trembling in admiration.
As we moved toward the tables, the student candidates began talking, unable to contain their impressions, and were soon predictably reprimanded:
"Quiet!" a powerful old man with a magnificent white beard, sitting in the center of the administration table, slammed his palm against the scarlet tablecloth and instantly drew all eyes to him. "Maintain silence in the testing hall! Do not forget the rules of the Heavenly Star Academy, newcomers."
At this, the teenagers remembered the warnings and diligently projected respectful attention, drifting between the tables where clusters of five to eight red crystals could be found. After waiting a few seconds for total silence to fall over the hall, the old man spoke again:
"I am the Prorector of the Heavenly Star Academy, Xue Li, responsible for your test today. On each table, you will find several soul crystals. You must establish a spiritual connection with them so that we can determine your innate talent. A student who establishes a spiritual connection with two crystals is admitted to classes; one who connects with three has good talent; and if there is someone who can activate four—they have the makings of a genius. Furthermore, students who activate three or more soul crystals have a chance to become students of the most distinguished masters of the Heavenly Star Academy who have reached at least the Sixth Heavenly Layer! Today you are given a chance to show what you are capable of. If you fail to activate the crystals, you may practice with your teacher and try again next year!"
I was already standing near one of the tables and involuntarily glanced at the stones. Unfortunately, Lian Yu's knowledge of them was extremely fragmentary. On one hand, to activate these stones, you needed initial training—that is, the ability to feel and direct Qi—but on the other hand, the number of soul crystals you could simultaneously connect with supposedly had nothing to do with your skill level or your progress along the path of power. And while he wasn't certain, he believed that if you activated a soul crystal once, you couldn't activate another in its place. That is, if your potential was exactly three stones and you activated them, you couldn't then go to another three stones and activate those. The limit was reached—the soul remembered or received a mark and couldn't repeat the process a second time. At least, that was the version Lian Yu had heard regarding why such a test couldn't be done at home before coming to the Academy with precise knowledge of your capacity. Obviously, the local elite had soul crystals, but who would take someone's word for it regarding admission to an elite institution? Anyone could claim they mastered eighteen at home—admit me to the elite class. Perhaps it was possible to check who activated stones if you had both the stones and the candidate on hand, but that was clearly not a job for a common academy instructor, and no one was going to bother masters of the Sixth Heavenly Layer and above for every little larva, even an aristocratic one.
"Good," the Prorector commented on our respectful silence. "Chu Xian, begin the testing."
"Yes!" our turquoise-haired guide bowed, punching his right fist into his left palm as if he had been waiting impatiently. "There are tables for everyone!" he turned to us. "Place your hand about two palm-widths away from the soul crystals and attempt to activate them. Most importantly, do not worry! The crystals will determine everything for you!"
I sat at a table where seven rough stones of various sizes and shapes were laid out—from a small fragment the size of a thumb phalanx to pieces half the size of a child's fist. As memory suggested, there was no secret meaning or practical benefit to the different sizes and shapes; for the purpose of testing, such stones worked exactly the same. The issue was specifically the formation of this "Spiritual Connection," whatever that was from a practical rather than philosophical standpoint.
Following the instructor's guidance, I extended my hand over the stones, genuinely feeling that there was either something inside them or something wrong with them... I think I now understand why the locals produce all sorts of philosophical treatises seeking hidden meanings and all that—describing your feelings and sensations was simply impossible. Human language lacked such terms, concepts, and definitions, and if every gifted person felt it differently, then things were really interesting... Regardless, for me, the stones were clusters of... something empty and yet possessing the quality of... wind. Finding an analogy was brain-achingly difficult, but with my eyes closed, it was as if I saw small holes in space that were simultaneously lumps of swirling air blowing on me, yet not at all like blacksmith's bellows. Despite the sensation of holes, they absolutely did not evoke associations with or act as openings through which air flows. They blew on me, but they blew by themselves, not through something passing through them... And at the same time, they stayed in place, while what was blowing on me was something else, something finer, something that works and happens on other layers of perception...
The more I concentrated on trying to formulate my feelings, the more I felt I was about to cook my brain with the absurdity of the resulting semantic constructs.
One way or another, I felt the stones and felt exactly that I could direct my Qi through the "wind" blowing at me, as if through my own body. This was another very strange sensation... Not quite like the appearance of extra limbs, but as if several more fingers had grown out of my hand—boneless, but very long and flexible, which... had gone numb... and I couldn't control them... but they were itching at the tips... they felt cold... and I needed to rub them, but not with my other fingers, because those... the ones that were itching... kind of... weren't there. But they were... Seriously, I really want to learn a proper magical language where all the necessary terms exist, because without it, it just hurts.
Finally, realizing my inability to understand or describe the sensations, I opened my eyes and directed my power into those little stones, after which... they responded obediently, beginning to glow. Interestingly, they didn't just glow scarlet; there was yellow, violet, and a suspiciously silver-black hue as well. With a small effort, energy flowed around my hand, and the stones, caught by it, took flight: the first, the second, the third... the seventh.
"Hmm?" I didn't realize it immediately, being too caught up in the new impressions, but when I did... I didn't understand. According to canon, Lian Yu was only able to light four and feel the fifth, but failed to activate it, and he had sweated over the fourth as if he were giving birth to a porcupine backwards. I, however... felt no fatigue or strain at all. Just a thought-wish, and the little stones began to circulate around my hand, obediently following the flow of Qi. Plus, the breeze from them became noticeably more pleasant, and the sensation of emptiness vanished. Or rather, that emptiness was filled and was now... something. I don't know what, but some process was occurring there. It changed the property of the "wind" and seemed to be doing something with my Qi, though I couldn't be sure. In short, the experiment was a success, but the result didn't bring the research group any closer to understanding what the hell they were doing.
"Se... seven?!" The shout of Prorector Xue Li pulled me out of my contemplative state. In a most un-aristocratic fashion, he bulged his eyes and leaped from his seat, looming over the teachers' table. His colleagues weren't far behind him.
"Are these old eyes deceiving me? Did this child truly awaken seven soul crystals?"
"A talent capable of awakening five crystals appears once in a hundred years; a talent capable of awakening six, once in a thousand. But seven... I swear, since the founding of the Academy, this has never happened!"
"It is truly so!"
"Amazing!" The wizened instructors, completely ignoring the presence of the students and how such behavior might affect their dignity and reputation, were whispering at the top of their lungs.
And I began to think frantically, trying with all my might to keep a poker face, because... well... hysterical giggling, feverishly bulging eyes, and everything else in that vein would clearly be out of place, and I wouldn't bet that without extra control, they wouldn't break through.
What the hell?! What happened? Why? Had I ended up in a "broken" reality? Or did the universe suddenly decide that Lian Yu would make a better xianxia hero than Ye Xinghe? And what should I do? Seven stones is a bid for the ultimate Alpha, practically a God. If my clan sees this, they'll surely stop trying to write me off and start treating me like fragile glass, because... a national-level genius is a damn prestigious accessory when counting political points. No one would give him up voluntarily because through him, one could marry into the imperial house, not to mention obtaining court and military positions of a very high level that would beneficially influence the family's status. Then again, such a talented guy would sooner head for the capital to build a truly grand career at the very top rather than start bickering for the post of a provincial clan head, a position from which he couldn't jump any higher. But the Dark Moon is only one of the strongest clans in the "middle" tier, and the guys sitting at the top know the concept of strangling armadillos while they're still hatchlings very well, otherwise they wouldn't be sitting at the top. Either they'll bind me so tight I can't move, or they'll actually strangle me, as their resources are far more impressive than those of my dear relatives. What do I do? Damn it, damn it, damn it!
"Master, you are incredible!" my vassals joined the excitement surrounding me.
"You are the best young master of the Dark Moon family! I am happy to serve you!"
"An Xueyun from Limitless Heavens was able to activate five, but you surpassed her so decisively!"
"As expected of the young master!"
"An Xueyun activated five crystals?" I picked out the familiar and significant detail, turning to find the girl with my eyes.
Coincidence or not, I not only found Lady An immediately, but our eyes met instantly, as she was looking in my direction just like everyone else in the hall. Someone was answering me, but I had already seen the five glowing stones on the table before the girl. Mine, for the record, continued to spin around my hand, showing no desire to fall anywhere. I liked the "breeze" from them, and I didn't feel any Qi consumption—it had literally looped and wasn't going anywhere, so I wasn't in any hurry to stop the flickering. I had completely forgotten about it, to be perfectly honest.
Nodding respectfully to the daughter of the head of the House of Limitless Heavens, I pretended the noise around me had nothing to do with me and froze in the posture of a diligent student waiting for the lesson to end. In reality, I was waiting for something else, but that was exactly where big problems began. Ye Xinghe. Ye Xinghe couldn't "light" a single stone, and that didn't change as time passed. No one approached him, no one encouraged him, and he, amid the snickers of more fortunate candidates, was gradually falling into obvious despair.
And again, I didn't understand what the hell was going on. Think, head, think! What could have gone wrong? Am I truly in a different universe, or have my actions already influenced events? But how?! I... didn't... do... anything.
At that moment, I wanted either to laugh or to cry.
Exactly... I. Did. Nothing.
I didn't bully this "suffering low-born weakling," I didn't stage any scenes to educate an arrogant vassal, I didn't argue with An Xueyun when she stood up for him... and I didn't shout anything during the test itself, flaunting my family's status and my personal opinion on every subject. That, if you think about it, is a hell of a lot of actions for such a short period of time—an absolute sea of crushed Bradbury butterflies.
But... you don't mean to say that... the universe looked at the lack of mandatory plot hooks and decided not to make him the xianxia protagonist, skipping the boost? Only to hang said boost on one minor aristocrat suffering from identity issues who was just pondering what kind of mess he had landed in?
Yes, it sounds insane... I mean, I wouldn't count on it. Insanity is insanity; it's unreal. Foolishness. Nonsense. One doesn't rely on such things in their right mind and sober memory... but after everything that has already happened to me, I am ready to believe in this insanity and accept it as a perfectly workable theory.
But what should I do now? All my plans have gone to shit—I won't have a "breakwater" to hide behind while he eliminates my dear relatives, leaving me to stand modestly aside and reap the rewards. In the current situation, I could wait and see regarding their elimination, but... too much was riding on that hypocritical asshole. Besides... what if he gets kicked out of the "sect" like a loser now, and while wandering home, Ye Xinghe finds some ancient, badass martial arts practitioner in the bushes who just happened to be looking for an heir to instantly transfer all his power and knowledge through epic sorcery? Or instead of a practitioner, he finds a powerful artifact with a sealed cultivation technique that's been pretending to be a roadside pebble all this time? Or some other crap that leads to the humiliated, revenge-hungry hero eventually returning one fine day to level everyone, being especially diligent with the academy's officially recognized genius—meaning me?
Thoughts raced frantically through my head; it felt as though I had involuntarily triggered some technique to accelerate my thinking and clear my mind. In any case, by the time the seed of a plan formed in my brain, the turquoise-haired instructor hadn't yet reached the loser's table to suggest he "try again next year." And so, I began to act.
Ye Xinghe. Same location.
Despair rolled in with every passing second, with every step of the approaching instructor. Not one. Zero. He had achieved nothing, which meant he was about to be thrown out. And that would be the end. Not just for him, but for his small, weak clan. How could this have happened? It couldn't be... Impossible! It was absolutely impossible! Unthinkable! But he didn't feel the crystals... He didn't feel them!
Snickers and snide comments from all sides bored into his ears, tearing at his nerves like grating blades. Even at the teachers' table, they had already noticed his failure and were commenting on his disgrace, wondering how he could fail to get even the slightest response from even one soul stone. "Trash," "refuse," "worthless talent"... he felt these judgments with every fiber of his being, unable to lift his gaze from the red crystals that remained completely indifferent to his efforts, dreading every step of the approaching teacher.
Then time ran out, and a shadow loomed over him. Ye Xinghe struggled to look up, expecting to see an Academy Master, but... instead of a follower of the Path of the Dragon, his peer stood before him. Expensive clothes and floral patterns. The heir Liang Yu of the Dark Moon Clan. His suzerain...
Xinghe gritted his teeth, hiding the hatred beneath his heart. Wealthy. Arrogant. Gifted. He already knew what was coming. "Insulted by the incompetence of a slave," the heir would personally throw him out of these walls. He would be lucky if he wasn't beaten half to death... or worse.
"Relax," a calm and non-maliciously concerned voice said, striking his consciousness with a complete dissonance and unreality compared to his expectations. "You're from the Azure Feather Clan, right?"
"Yes..." the doomed boy managed to squeeze out, not understanding what kind of cruel joke the heir of the Major Family had decided to play with him.
"I have heard that honorable people live in your family," the direct gaze of the young Dark Moon Master's purple eyes seemed to pierce right through Ye Xinghe, looking into his very soul and suppressing him with its power. "Why then are you panicking?"
"I... I don't feel the crystals... I..."
"Nonsense," the authoritative voice lashed out carelessly, while its owner made a hand gesture as if shooing away a fly. "An entire clan chose you out of all possible candidates. You cannot be talentless."
"But I..."
"Spare me the useless waste of time that is listening to excuses," Liang Yu grimaced, glancing up at the ceiling in brief annoyance. "Just stop panicking and do it. I don't want to see my vassal kicked out of the academy just because he couldn't overcome a case of the jitters. Seriously, it's a bad joke."
Ye Xinghe gritted his teeth again. He was suffocating with anger and resentment. Of course, it was all about the prestige of the Dark Moon Clan—the young Master simply didn't want to mar his triumph with the disgrace of a vassal. Now, if he failed, he would bring the wrath of the Dark Moon down upon himself and his family. They wouldn't even have to get their hands dirty—a clan that powerful had many ways to end a small family like the Azure Feather...
"What are you thinking about?" Liang Yu interrupted his thought, and Xinghe broke into a cold sweat at the sudden feeling that the other man knew exactly what he was thinking. "I told you—relax. Just pull yourself together, forget your fears, and concentrate on the crystals. He who doesn't try achieves nothing."
"Yes..." Xinghe forced out, turning back to the table and extending his hand over the soul stones. The feeling of his own helplessness, his own weakness... it was stifling. He was being prodded by the Dark Moon heir, being told what to do like a small child, and Ye Xinghe couldn't even object to the contempt and mockery. He had to try one more time. Do as Liang Yu said. Obey... For the sake of the Azure Feather family, he had to fight to the end!
His Qi flared up in sync with his anger, and he finally felt it... Four red crystals on the wooden surface lit up with inner light, and the vise-like grip of tension in his gut suddenly vanished, as if the ground beneath his feet had disappeared, replaced by a sensation of falling and total inner emptiness.
The boy stared at the four glowing stones, and words that had lost all color and meaning—words he had just heard and spoken—thundered in his head like a bell. Emotions, thoughts, desires—everything had vanished, and he could only stare stupidly at the crystals and try to count them, repeatedly losing track at the second one, while barely hearing what was happening in the world around him...
"He really was far too tense," the thoughtful words of Prorector Xue reached him as if through cotton.
"I would never have thought a representative of a branch family would manage to activate four crystals. I must admit, I am shocked and I underestimated his talent," added another elderly voice, which only recently had been bemoaning his lack of talent.
"Yes, the young master of the Dark Moon is remarkable, being able not only to establish a connection with seven soul crystals at once, but also to see four-crystal talent!"
"Four crystals?.." the boy asked himself stupidly under his breath, struggling to return to reality.
"It really is four..." he finally managed to count the stones. "In that case... I won't be kicked out of the Heavenly Star Academy!" Xinghe realized with a sinking heart, beginning to smile with disbelief and caution.
"Well, I am glad that strong blood is still being born among our vassals," Liang Yu, still standing nearby with his hands behind his back, drew his attention. In the depths of his indigo eyes, there seemed to be a strange spark, as if he knew and understood far more than those around him, and what had happened was not a surprise to him at all. "By the way, what is your name?"
"I..." The youth from the Azure Feather Clan hurriedly jumped up and, turning fully toward the man who had saved him from a disgrace worse than death, pressed his right fist into his left palm, bowing his head respectfully. "Ye Xinghe, Elder Brother!"
Only after answering did the boy, still in shock, almost swear. Of course, he knew the Academy rules stating all students should be equal and forget the difference in status and origin during their studies, but this was the heir of the Dark Moon! He could have flown into a rage for being addressed as an equal elder!
"I will remember that..." a hidden smirk reflected in the brunette's eyes, "Junior," he finished, his lips twitching into a smile, and with a glance at the crystals on the table, he turned to return to his place.
Ye Xinghe froze in confusion. What had happened? He was... he was actually recognized and allowed to speak like that? While he pondered how his life had changed and whether it truly had, another student approached him.
"Wow, this Liang Yu seems like a good person! Nothing like what I heard about him!"
"What?" Turning toward the voice, Xinghe saw a short, friendly-smiling blond with bright green eyes.
"The young master of the Dark Moon! It turns out he has a kind heart, just like my lady An Xueyun! Few representatives of the Major Families would show such concern for a branch family!"
"Who are you?" Not knowing how to react to those words and feeling a bit ashamed of the topic, Ye Xinghe preferred to change it.
"Oh, right! I'm Lin Hong, I'm from Anyang!"