The hasty winter passed, and new buds peeked from the tree branches.
Lu Chao chewed on a dry, yellowed stalk of grass, bustling back and forth at the academy’s entrance, alternating between gritting his teeth and laughing with his hands on his hips.
Today, he had prepared another grand "gift" for his teacher—he hoped the old man would like it!
From a distance, Xiao Youcheng shook his head. These two were truly a match in childishness.
One stubbornly chose to study mechanical traps and formations instead of the classics, poetry, or literature. The other stubbornly insisted on teaching only his way, threatening to quit otherwise.
Neither would yield, and in the end, it was Teacher Shang—the academy’s limping instructor—who resolved the standoff. Lu Chao was utterly intimidated by him. He might dare to argue with his own teacher, but before Teacher Shang, he was meek as a lamb.
Lu Chao had attended Teacher Shang’s lectures before. When the topic was storytelling from the Spring and Autumn Annals, he listened with rapt attention. But when it turned to scholarly references, his eyes glazed over, infuriating Teacher Shang to the point of ignoring him entirely.
Clip-clop, clip-clop.
The sound of hooves approached.
Lu Chao held his breath, perched in a tree.
Heh heh heh… the old man was back.
At the academy’s entrance, the horse gradually slowed to a stop and began grazing.
"Whoa!"
Wu Yao, the driver, tugged hard on the reins, trying to urge the horse forward a few more steps.
But the stubborn animal refused to budge.
"What’s the matter?"
"Master, the horse suddenly won’t move," Liu Yao replied, baffled.
"Fine. It’s only two zhang from the gate. We’ll walk the rest."
Murong Yun pulled aside the carriage curtain.
He glanced at the horseweed on the ground, the conspicuously disturbed stones, and the rope pressed under the carriage wheel. Stroking his beard, he snorted in amusement before calling sternly into the carriage:
"You two! Still hiding in there? Expecting me to carry you out?!"
Lu Chao, still crouched in the tree, peered down.
Two boys, around thirteen or fourteen, scrambled out in a hurry. One was slender and pale, looking as if he might faint any second. The other was tall and sturdy, with a wheat-colored complexion that spoke of strength.
Oh no! Lu Chao’s heart sank. A split second later, a sandbag hurtled toward the pale-faced boy.
"Watch out! An assassin!" The darker-skinned boy—Xiao Hei—shouted with surprising vigor before diving under the carriage.
Murong Yun’s eye twitched. He yanked the dazed pale boy aside and opened his mouth to speak—
Rustle!
A basket of leaves cascaded from above, showering Murong Yun and the white-robed boy in an autumnal downpour.
Lu Chao stifled a laugh. Ha! A happy accident!
Murong Yun, now crowned with foliage, roared in fury:
"LU CHAO!! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!!"
The pale boy, already queasy from the journey and now startled twice by this "welcome," blinked in confusion at the headmaster. Then, hearing the familiar name, his eyes widened.
So it was him!
Nearby, a youth in coarse green robes slid down from the tree with practiced ease.
Landing lightly, Lu Chao dusted his hands off without a hint of shame and strode toward them, grinning. His hair was loosely tied with a ribbon, disheveled yet somehow exuding an effortless, roguish charm.
"Master!"
"Scram, you disrespectful brat!" Murong Yun bellowed.
"Heh, how was I supposed to know you had guests?"
The pale boy found himself sweating for Lu Chao. Would he be expelled on his very first day?
But then he stole another glance at the headmaster—was that a smirk?
Lu Chao, noticing the boy rubbing his eyes, clasped his hands in apology.
"My apologies, friend. Didn’t mean to drag you into this."
He even helpfully brushed the leaves off the boy’s robe.
Murong Yun scoffed.
Ever the opportunist, Lu Chao turned to "dust off" his teacher too—though his enthusiastic slaps echoed like drumbeats.
The pale boy pressed his lips together, fighting a smile. He suspected this was deliberate.
"Trying to beat me to death so you can get a new master?"
Murong Yun aimed a kick at his infuriating disciple.
Lu Chao nimbly dodged.
"Careful, wouldn’t want you throwing out your back."
Since Lu Chao had started learning mechanical traps from the old man, tranquility had fled Guānfù Academy. Their battles of wits escalated—at first, Lu Chao fell for every trick, with Murong Yun gleefully summoning audiences to witness his humiliation. But soon, Lu Chao learned to retaliate. The tiny academy, with students barely numbering double digits, now echoed with their chaos.
"These two are new students. Show them around—I need to discuss something with Old Shang."
With that, Murong Yun strode off, hands behind his back, leaving three bewildered youths.
Lu Chao: People actually come to this dump?
"Ahem! Greetings, friends. I’m Lu Chao. Sorry about earlier—didn’t expect company."
The pale boy studied him meaningfully.
"An honor. I’m Zhou Qingyuan."
Lu Chao assumed Murong Yun had spilled all his secrets during the ride and shrugged it off.
"I-I’m Chen Ning’an," the taller boy stammered, then fell silent.
"I’ll take you to your quarters. Grab your things and follow me."
As they walked toward the dormitories, Lu Chao launched into an academy overview.
"Out of curiosity—why pick this remote place for studies?"
Zhou Qingyuan coughed. "Fought with my father. Needed somewhere to lay low."
Lu Chao nodded. Yingchuan was obscure enough.
"My... my father sent me," Chen Ning’an mumbled, flushing when pressed further. Lu Chao tactfully changed the subject.
"Oh! Forgot to mention—there’s another student here, Yukang. Probably buried in books right now. He’ll be thrilled to meet you both!"
At the name, both newcomers straightened slightly.
Though often called "too kind," Yukang’s mercy extended only to his elder brother. To others, he showed no leniency.
Years ago, at his grandfather’s birthday banquet, Zhou Qingyuan had been tasked with entertaining the then six-year-old prince. While showing him the garden’s parrots, they overheard a eunuch insulting his grandfather.
Yukang said nothing that day. The next morning, the eunuch received fifty lashes for "court impropriety" before being banished to latrine duty.
Zhou Qingyuan still remembered the prince’s expression—a chilling half-smile.
To this day, he feared his younger cousin.
"Ahaha, since he's studying, maybe we shouldn't disturb him. There'll be plenty of chances to meet later."
Zhou Qingyuan waved his hand, turning down Lu Chao's suggestion.
Chen Ning'an shook her head even more vigorously, as if they were about to encounter some kind of monster.
"Yukang is really nice—don’t be scared."
Zhou Qingyuan smiled.
