What’s the point if you’re not going?
Rustle.
Rustle.
The boy kept his head down as he fled, never forgetting to strain his ears for any sound behind him. The moment he heard something, he darted into a hidden corner and curled himself up out of sight.
A moment later, thick fog surged toward him. Within it, a pair of eyes larger than lanterns swept slowly across the surroundings.
The boy shrank into a ball, trembling as he clamped both hands over his mouth, not daring to let out even the slightest breath.
He had no idea how much time passed.
The pair of eyes finally disappeared into the depths of the fog, but the boy remained crouched on the ground, arms wrapped around himself, his entire body still shaking.
The dense mist shrouded the forest in gloom. Jagged rocks and tangled shrubs loomed toward him like the silhouettes of monsters.
…
“Are you in or not?”
“I’m in.”
“Phew. Brother Gong won again.”
Ming Hualian was jolted awake by a cacophony of shrill, monkey-like cries. When he opened his eyes, he found more than a dozen boys gathered around an octagonal table, playing leaf cards. Their voices and laughter filled the place, lively and raucous.
It took him a moment to gather his bearings before he realized he had been dreaming.
He had dreamed of the time before he entered Jiyun Academy.
He only had dreams like this occasionally. He knew perfectly well that he had long since escaped those difficult and dangerous days, so he tried to look around and distract himself, doing his best not to let the past drag his emotions back into it.
“Brother Gong’s skill with the cards is unbelievable. I’ve watched him the whole time and still can’t figure him out.”
“Ugh. There go three months of my allowance.”
“What’s worse is that Brother Gong never shows anything on his face. It’s impossible to tell what he’s holding.”
“You think Brother Gong’s like you? The second you get a good hand, your grin practically stretches to the back of your head.”
“Ha! Is it really that bad?”
Ming Hualian instinctively looked toward the young man surrounded by everyone’s flattery.
The other boy looked utterly languid, idly turning a set of leaf cards carved from jade between his fingers.
He sat there as casually as if he owned the place. He had no need to curry favor with anyone; even in complete stillness, an innate air of nobility and arrogance radiated from his bones.
As Ming Hualian looked over, Gong Zhao seemed to sense his gaze.
Their eyes met.
Gong Zhao immediately rose to his feet, and the boys naturally moved aside to make room.
Gong Zhao sat down beside him.
“Why are you so groggy?”
“I dozed off,” Ming Hualian said.
“Stayed up late reading again last night?”
“I read for a while.”
Ming Hualian lied as naturally as breathing.
In truth, he had not stayed up late reading. He had simply found leaf cards boring, so he had sat there and dozed off.
He had no interest in this pastime that had swept through the academy. He would much rather spend his time improving himself.
The only reason he had wasted time coming here was because he and Gong Zhao were friends.
Friends…
Perhaps Gong Zhao was the only one who thought of them that way.
Ming Hualian did not want to be Gong Zhao’s friend.
“There’s no need to take your classes so seriously,” Gong Zhao said indifferently. “Even if you fail an assessment, what’s the worst that can happen?”
Every movement he made carried an effortless arrogance and confidence. The other boys adored it, especially because Gong Zhao’s family background was impeccable. He was one of the most outstanding students in their year, and his personality was wild and uninhibited.
Skipping class, drinking and making merry, leading a group of followers to spar with students from the neighboring academy—things other people wouldn’t dare do.
His reckless boldness had earned him quite a following.
No matter where he appeared, Gong Zhao was usually the natural leader of the group.
That was simply a fact.
Just as now, they chatted idly, but none of the other boys resumed their card game. The seat that belonged to Gong Zhao remained empty.
“So?” one of them asked. “Keep going?”
“Forget it.”
Gong Zhao didn’t move.
“Not playing anymore. It’s boring.”
The boy beside him grinned and jabbed him with an elbow.
“You’re really something. Besides Brother Gong, you won the second most just now.”
“If you’re so capable, then win too.”
Ming Hualian pressed his lips together and discreetly glanced at Gong Zhao.
He didn’t know why Gong Zhao had suddenly lost interest in playing. A small suspicion stirred in his heart.
Perhaps Gong Zhao had stopped playing to keep him company.
Just as he was thinking that, Gong Zhao suddenly spoke.
“Do you know how much he won just now?”
“Hm?”
Ming Hualian came back to himself.
Gong Zhao lazily tipped his chin toward the boy.
“Guess. How much did he win?”
Following his indication, Ming Hualian realized he meant the boy who had just been teased for winning the second most.
He had been dozing earlier and hadn’t paid any attention to their game, let alone how much that boy had won.
So he answered calmly, “I don’t know.”
Gong Zhao held up his hand to indicate a number, the corners of his lips curling into a smile.
“…”
Ming Hualian’s lips parted in surprise.
That was an enormous sum of money.
He rubbed his fingers together as he watched the others laughing and joking as though it were nothing, and once again he was reminded that he was different from them.
He had known that from the moment he entered the academy.
Even though they were all classmates, all studying beneath the same roof, the circumstances each person came from were worlds apart.
Jiyun was the foremost cultivation academy in the entire cultivation world, without exception. It could be said that young cultivators from every corner of the realm would do anything to get in.
Unlike most of his classmates, Ming Hualian came from a remote, impoverished place. His family was hardly well-off, and his parents had died when he was young. When a disturbance among spirit beasts ravaged the small town where he had lived, the Jiyun Academy came to the rescue and took him in.
He had fought desperately to escape the shadow of poverty and weakness. To him, Jiyun Academy was like a lifeline on the road toward a better life.
Fortunately, his spiritual roots were excellent.
He possessed the rare single spiritual root, which was why he had been granted special admission.
For cultivators, having multiple spiritual roots was not necessarily a blessing. The more roots one had, the more they interfered with the speed of cultivation. A single spiritual root, by contrast, was precious precisely because it was rare.
Fewer roots meant greater refinement.
Sometimes, Ming Hualian wondered why Gong Zhao had become his friend at all.
After all, the difference between their family backgrounds was like heaven and earth.
The only thing they had in common was that they both possessed single spiritual roots.
Perhaps that was why they had become friends.
Even at Jiyun Academy, the foremost cultivation academy in the realm, cultivators with single spiritual roots were as rare as phoenix feathers and qilin horns.
Ming Hualian also believed that those born into privileged families might not necessarily achieve more than he would in the future.
Yet whenever he saw these boys casually lose a sum of money equivalent to what he couldn’t save in an entire year, the gulf between their lives still left him feeling dejected and unwilling to accept it.
Suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder.
Gong Zhao draped an arm around him and stared at the tiny mole near the corner of his eye, smiling.
“Next time, I’ll teach you how to play. You can win back everything he won.”
Ming Hualian frowned.
Even if cards could make money, he still didn’t think gambling was particularly respectable.
Besides, Gong Zhao couldn’t possibly win every time. And as for Ming Hualian, he was even less likely to.
Even if he did keep winning, what if he lost just once?
He couldn’t afford even an occasional loss.
Throwing several months’ worth of savings into a game just for the sake of momentary amusement—that was stupidity.
Ming Hualian prided himself on living as shrewdly as a fox. He had no intention of wading into these waters.
“I don’t want to play cards, and I don’t know how.”
Gong Zhao raised an eyebrow.
“I said I’ll teach you.”
“I still don’t want to. What if I have no talent and keep losing?”
Without even thinking, Gong Zhao said, “If you lose, put it on my tab.”
His words immediately sent the surrounding boys into an uproar. Grinning mischievously, they began chiming in one after another.
“Whoa, what did I just hear?”
“I heard Brother Gong vouching for Ming Hualian. He even said he’d cover his losses.”
“You guys are so easily surprised. It’s not like Brother Gong only started protecting him today.”
“But I’m curious too. Why does Brother Gong always look out for him? People say even brothers should keep their accounts separate, but you two are practically keeping the same accounts now.”
Gong Zhao merely lifted an eyebrow at the teasing. He had never cared much about jokes like these.
Ming Hualian rubbed his fingers together.
He felt as though his heart had been lifted ever so slightly.
Amid all the noise and laughter, it seemed as though he meant something different to Gong Zhao.
But Ming Hualian had always preferred to think rationally. He could only tell himself that perhaps this was simply a consequence of Gong Zhao’s wild, uninhibited personality.
After all, to Gong Zhao, money was merely a number, a meaningless symbol.
It couldn’t possibly mean anything.
And yet, despite himself, a smile still appeared at the corners of Ming Hualian’s lips.
Gong Zhao took the opportunity to pinch his cheek.
“Stop saying you’re going to lose all the time. That’s taboo when you’re playing cards.”
Ming Hualian gave a quiet “Mm.”
“Besides, your grades are so good, and you’re smart. With me teaching you, are you really worried about losing?”
Gong Zhao had never cared about grades.
The fact that he actually knew Ming Hualian did well in his studies gave him a strange little thrill.
Unfortunately, that happiness lasted only a few seconds.
The boy who had won the second most was idly turning a leaf card in his fingers when he suddenly remembered something.
“Oh, right. Su Wanqing’s birthday is the day after tomorrow. She’s holding a banquet at Yuliang Tower and asked me to invite you. Are you going?”
Ming Hualian drew a deep breath and pretended to be nonchalant as he watched Gong Zhao’s reaction.
In truth, Gong Zhao not only had a large following; admirers had always flocked around him.
Perhaps it was because he had such a distinctly masculine appearance.
Gong Zhao had strong, sharply defined features. Beneath the academy’s standard uniform, the deep crimson inner robe lent him an ostentatious air of nobility. A faint scar ran along the outer corner of his eye and up toward his brow, adding another touch of ferocity and wildness.
He was the kind of man who could pass through a garden of flowers without a petal touching him, yet somehow always had countless admirers gathered at his side.
Loving Gong Zhao would be like stepping into a quagmire.
Ming Hualian understood that perfectly, which was why he had never confessed his feelings.
He might pride himself on being as clever as a fox, but feelings were not something one could control.
Still, reason told him that confessing was not a good choice.
Gong Zhao had always welcomed anyone who came to him and never held on to anyone who left. The stream of admirers around him had never ceased.
Su Wanqing was simply one of the classmates who had openly shown an interest in Gong Zhao during this period.
It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.
Even so, Ming Hualian still found it torturous.
Especially because Gong Zhao didn’t answer immediately.
In the steaming warmth of the residence, the boys’ excited voices rose around him like suffocating waves, drowning Ming Hualian beneath them and leaving him anxious and miserable.
He held his breath, waiting for Gong Zhao’s answer just like everyone else.
Instead, Gong Zhao suddenly turned his head and looked at him.
The boy wore the academy’s distinctive crimson-and-black robes and sat on the soft couch. His hair was slightly lighter than the others’, smooth as fine silk, with two locks falling beside cheeks as delicate and lustrous as white porcelain.
His brows were faintly drawn together.
His eyes, once round with childhood innocence, had lengthened with age. He looked at Gong Zhao silently, like a doll carved from colored glass.
The tiny mole at the corner of his eye lent his otherwise exquisite features a touch of vivid life.
For some reason, Gong Zhao suddenly asked,
“Are you going?”
Ming Hualian thought the question was rather amusing.
Su Wanqing had invited Gong Zhao, not him.
“I’m not going.”
“Then I’m not going either.”
The boys who had just been cheering immediately looked disappointed and began trying to persuade him.
“You’re not going? Then won’t the beauty’s banquet have been for nothing?”
“A reservation at Yuliang Tower is incredibly hard to get. She must’ve spent a fortune.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t disappoint her.”
But Gong Zhao had already made up his mind, and he paid no attention to what they said.
Ming Hualian felt the tension in his chest ease slightly.
After a moment, though, he deliberately put on the same calm expression as everyone else and asked,
“Why aren’t you going?”
Gong Zhao had never been particularly interested in Su Wanqing. Since Ming Hualian wasn’t going, he had no desire to join the festivities either.
He answered casually,
“What’s the point if you’re not going?”
“…”
Ming Hualian maintained his composure.
Inside, however, his heart gave several rapid, pounding beats.
＊
When the break ended, the students were dragged back into the classroom once again.
The Mind-Cleansing Bell rang at exactly a quarter past the hour of the Rooster, rousing the students of Zhenliu Residence from their sleep.
The deep resonance of the bell, infused with spiritual energy, brought them almost instantly back to consciousness.
Ming Hualian had expected the day to be no different from any other.
Then he noticed that the Mind-Cleansing Bell had rung three times.
According to the rules established by Venerable Lord Deyin, the Mind-Cleansing Bell rang once each in the morning, afternoon, and evening.
If it rang three times in succession, it meant a guest had arrived.
On his way from Zhenliu Residence to the Xieying Courtyard, where they normally attended classes and cultivated, Ming Hualian noticed the southeastern sky ablaze with crimson clouds.
Mist drifted apart, illuminating the snow-covered peaks of Qi Peak as though they had been draped in gauze.
Amid the thousand-zhang rays of rosy light, the faint outline of an immortal vessel could be seen, appearing and disappearing among the clouds.
He only glanced at it twice before looking away.
But the immortal vessel suddenly stopped.
Without thinking, he asked Gong Zhao,
“What happened?”
Gong Zhao was muttering something with several boys nearby, occasionally breaking into a grin.
Hearing Ming Hualian’s question, he looked up.
“You go to class first. We want to go take a look.”
Life at the academy was extraordinarily dull.
Apart from sneaking drinks and playing cards during breaks, there was almost nothing to do for fun.
Ming Hualian knew Gong Zhao liked watching the excitement, so he didn’t say anything more.
He stepped down from Gong Zhao’s immortal vessel.
Only later would he regret that decision.