Zhonghua, who had arrived early to make arrangements, had only just received word and rushed out with the Black-Bearded Elder and several other Silver Maple City nobles to receive them.

He’d witnessed the whole scene from a distance.

His first instinct had been to step in and put the swaggering Jinji in his place. But on second thought, a shameless little man like this would be far more satisfying for Titan to deal with personally, so he let it pass for the moment.

Worried this Eastern Hidden Clan scion Yue Yang might be provoked into anger, he immediately offered words of comfort. “Jinji is a clown — let him enjoy himself for a couple of days. At the Assessment, everyone will see who the championship actually belongs to. Titan, brother, if you could redirect even a fraction of the creativity behind that Sacred-tier quill pen toward constructs or puppet beasts, Jinji wouldn’t be worthy of carrying your shoes. What does he amount to, really?”

Zhonghua was absolutely entitled to look down on Jinji, and he genuinely didn’t regard the Sacred-tier quill pen as some weak, throwaway project either.

That was Sacred tier — directly creating a Sacred-tier treasure with its own spiritual awareness. Who else could do that? And on a quill pen, of all things. Did people really think it was that simple? Thinking it through one layer deeper: if Titan, master of Star Diamond Castle, could already produce a Sacred-tier quill pen now, did that not imply he might someday produce a Sacred-tier construct? Who would dare claim it was definitely impossible? A man who could elevate even a quill pen into a Sacred-tier treasure was hardly someone a creature like Jinji had any business mocking. Even the supremely arrogant Ji Wuri, hearing of such a thing, would likely feel a quiet chill run through him.

“It’s fine. I’ve seen this type far too many times to count.” Yue Yang waved it off, indicating it didn’t bother him. The grudge would absolutely be settled, the face would absolutely be slapped — but there was no need to announce it publicly. He’d simply act on it later.

“If you ever need it, Titan, brother, I’ll commit everything I have to helping you develop constructs.” Zhonghua was sparing no expense in his efforts to win over this Immortal Clan descendant.

“My thanks in advance. When I do turn to construct research, I’ll be sure to give everyone a pleasant surprise.” Yue Yang’s calm expression and reply sent Zhonghua into a quiet thrill of delight. He hadn’t guessed wrong after all — as a descendant of the Eastern Immortal Clan, how could the man possibly stop at a single Sacred-tier quill pen?

He simply hadn’t started exerting himself yet. No one should mistake him for an easy mark. The Assessment hadn’t even arrived, but Zhonghua could already foresee it: Jinji was headed for tragedy. And this round, he would lose badly — miserably, catastrophically.

Eager to ingratiate himself, Zhonghua also volunteered the news that Wanmo and Ranfeng had held themselves back to compete in this particular Assessment.

The Principal blinked in surprise, then offered Zhonghua sincere thanks, considering it genuinely timely intelligence. Yue Yang expressed his gratitude as well — though in truth he’d already received information ten times more detailed from Mingzhu, and besides, gratitude was the last thing he’d ever feel toward someone like Zhonghua. The surface courtesies were unavoidable, but Yue Yang used the excuse of needing to think over countermeasures to finally extract himself from Zhonghua’s clinging attentions.

As for the covert threat posed by Wanmo and Ranfeng, the Principal and Instructor Oumon felt a degree of pressure. These were, after all, supremely powerful wanderers on the same tier as Ji Wuri and Zhonghua — absolutely not to be underestimated.

They quietly counted themselves fortunate that Titan had developed not only the first-generation flying battle construct, but the three subsequent types as well. And their single greatest advantage: through the collective effort of the entire faculty, they had already completed the first Heavy Assault flying battle construct.

With that in hand, however formidable Wanmo’s and Ranfeng’s constructs might be, the school stood on undefeated ground.

The covert attack from Wanmo and Ranfeng even carried a certain benefit — at minimum, it would clear away a fair number of obstacles on Titan’s road to the championship. Take Jinji, for instance, who claimed to have developed the Strong Magnetic Battle Construct: faced with Wanmo’s “Flesh-and-Blood Construct” and Ranfeng’s “Raging Flame Construct,” his magnetic field would prove useless. One could only wonder what his expression would be then.

Not long after settling into the Scholar’s Residence, Mingzhu arrived to join them.

As for Chimu, Mingzhu reported that the lecherous, friendship-forgetting fellow was still surrounded by a crowd of beautiful women and unable to tear himself away. He likely wouldn’t make it until the formal Assessment three days later.

Yue Yang didn’t particularly care whether Chimu showed up. As long as Mingzhu was here, that was enough — ideally, Chimu wouldn’t come at all. Naturally, this was not something he could say to Mingzhu’s face, or he’d be subjected to another round of “correction” from the golden hammer. Playing the obedient student, Yue Yang brought Mingzhu to see the Principal, explaining that he’d like to take a trip out to the White Jade Book City with Mingzhu, and requesting a brief leave.

The Principal agreed readily. With Mingzhu accompanying him, he seemed especially at ease.

After casually inquiring about a few old acquaintances from Gem Valley, the Principal cheerfully handed Yue Yang a crystal card loaded with two hundred Heaven Crystals — pocket money, he said, for Yue Yang and Mingzhu to spend on food and shopping while they were out.

“Principal, you truly are the finest principal there is!” Mingzhu snatched the crystal card straight out of Yue Yang’s hand, declaring himself the keeper of the finances.

“You’re far too stingy — you never want to buy anything. You shouldn’t be the one managing the money; everything goes in and nothing comes out. Give it back.” Yue Yang objected.

“Fool. Who spends like you do, blowing through a thousand crystals in a single day?” Mingzhu absolutely refused to hand it over.

“That was for buying materials!” Yue Yang naturally had his justification.

“This isn’t about buying materials. So I’m managing the money.” Mingzhu’s insistence even won the Principal’s backing. Beaming, the old man advised Yue Yang, “Little Titan, having someone manage the money is a good thing. Let Young Lord Mingzhu handle your finances. When you reach my age, you’ll understand — having someone beside you who looks after this and that for you is actually one of life’s greatest blessings.”

“I don’t understand…” Yue Yang was a master of playing dumb, wearing the expression of a witless goose.

“Ha, you silly boy, go on. Don’t be reluctant to spend. If you see anything you’d like to buy or eat, use the money — as long as the two of you are happy. Go! It’s no good for young people to stay cooped up doing research all day. Beyond having your own work, you need a life too. The Assessment may be near, but balancing work and rest is necessary — a little relaxation does no harm. Go, go!” The Principal looked very much like a man watching his own children and grandchildren frolicking at his knee. His earlier sternness was gone, the gloom from being provoked entirely swept away, and he watched Yue Yang and Mingzhu bicker with eyes full of fond affection.

Stepping out of the Scholar’s Residence, Mingzhu happily pulled Yue Yang along to wander about.

The summit of Heaven Plain Mountain held dozens of building complexes — far more complete in their functions than an ordinary city, except that the population maintaining the Ancient Pavilion Terrace was simply too small. Walking the streets, the place felt empty, sometimes half a day passing without a single figure in sight.

Mingzhu didn’t mind in the slightest, dragging Yue Yang specifically toward the secluded ancient structures and old statuary. As for the few taverns and luxurious establishments made livelier by the gathering of wanderers for the Assessment, he showed little interest.

They explored for a good long while, until dusk gradually darkened, before heading back, satisfied. The whole way, Mingzhu kept bickering with Yue Yang as though the two were born mortal enemies — and yet both wore smiles the entire time, which was inexplicable.

“I’m hungry. Let’s find somewhere to eat.” Yue Yang rubbed his stomach, indicating he couldn’t wait until they got back to the Scholar’s Residence, and that returning this late, there certainly wouldn’t be any food left for them anyway.

“All you ever think about is eating.” Mingzhu shot him a sidelong glare. On most people, rolling one’s eyes looked unflattering. But Mingzhu was different — those bright eyes, which seemed to have gathered the spiritual essence of heaven and earth, somehow became strikingly captivating in the gesture rather than otherwise. Yue Yang couldn’t help freezing mid-step at the sight.

“Spacing out again? Come on, you witless goose.” Mingzhu seemed both annoyed and pleased by Yue Yang’s reaction, a contradiction at war within him.

“Call me a witless goose one more time and I’m cutting off ties with you.” Yue Yang was indignant.

“Fine, I won’t, who cares. Come on, get inside and eat — eating’s the only thing you’re good for!” Mingzhu pulled Yue Yang into a tavern that looked reasonably clean. The name said it all: the Heavenly Pride Tavern. The taverns here weren’t run by merchants but by people from the Heavenly Pride Wanderers’ Association, and unlike ordinary taverns, they didn’t offer a range of services. This one provided exactly one thing: food. Customers wanting alcohol had to be of age to purchase it — nothing sold to anyone under eighteen. And so the youthful-looking Yue Yang found himself questioned about his age by the server.

“What kind of look is that? Mingzhu looks younger than I do — why aren’t you asking him?” Yue Yang protested vigorously, with roughly the indignation of a nation protesting foreign mistreatment.

“I already drank here last time.” Mingzhu was delighted to see Yue Yang suffer the indignity.

“Is looking young such a bad thing?” Yue Yang grumbled.

“Looking young is, from a certain angle, a sign of immaturity — naturally not entirely a good thing.” Mingzhu landed a small jab.

“Still better than old and ugly. Which reminds me — I keep forgetting to ask, how old are you this year?” Yue Yang suddenly developed an interest in Mingzhu’s age. He’d expected to get an answer to such a question, but instead Mingzhu spread both hands, indicating it was a secret.

“Older than you, in any case.” Pressed, Mingzhu offered this extremely vague reply.

“You expect me, looking at that slight frame and that delicate little face, to call you big brother? I’m definitely older than you, so you should be calling me brother.” Yue Yang flatly refused.

“What makes you so certain you’re older?” Mingzhu had no idea where this kid got such unshakeable confidence.

“Tell you what — when we go relieve ourselves later, we’ll compare and see whose is bigger. Mine’s definitely bigger than yours.” Yue Yang declared with iron certainty.

“…” Mingzhu froze for three full seconds before finally processing it. Seeing that smug I’m-obviously-bigger-than-you expression, he flew into immediate fury, nearly producing the golden hammer on the spot. Fortunately Yue Yang seized both his hands tightly, averting a “devastating strike.” Eyes blazing, Mingzhu glared into Yue Yang’s face and growled in a low voice, “Who’s comparing that with you? Keep talking nonsense and I really will lose my temper. No — you’re apologizing, and promising never to provoke me again, right now!”

“I understand completely — being a little ‘small’ down there does cause some insecurity. But it’s fine, what are friends for? We’re iron brothers. When there’s time, I’ll teach you a few techniques — your combat capability could improve quite a bit that way—” Yue Yang draped a large hand over Mingzhu’s shoulder, wearing the earnest expression of a man saying I’m your big brother, I’ll look out for you.

“My thanks. You can keep your lecher techniques to yourself.” Mingzhu was sorely tempted to pour an entire cup of wine straight up the kid’s nose.

“What a fool you are — what’s mine is yours, we’re sworn brothers. Why would I keep the techniques to myself? Of course I’d pass them to you.” Yue Yang clapped Mingzhu on the shoulder and chuckled in a low, conspiratorial tone. “Judging from your reaction, I’m starting to think you’re probably not actually small — just inexperienced, never been through that sort of thing, don’t yet understand what a woman is. Once you’ve tasted it, you’ll fall madly in love with the feeling, and you won’t feel insecure anymore. You might not be small at all. Next time we bathe together, I’ll show you mine and you show me yours — we’ll take them out and compare side by side—” Yue Yang made it sound as though he were deeply concerned for Mingzhu’s physical and mental wellbeing, eager for the two of them to learn from and improve one another.

“Weren’t you hungry? Eat. No talking while eating, no talking while sleeping!” Mingzhu was nearly driven to an early grave by this kid.

“I was just trying to help you out of the goodness of my heart!” Yue Yang looked thoroughly wronged, the picture of a good deed struck down by lightning.

“I get it, I get it — you’re so tiresome!” Mingzhu drew in a deep breath, then exhaled a long one, finally managing to force the anger back down, unwilling to let the subject drag on any further.

Outside the tavern, a three-meter-tall giant of a man with demon-red hair passed by, accompanied by a woman with a band tied across her eyes and a timid, uneasy boy who kept glancing around as though terrified someone might reproach him. Walking toward them from the opposite direction came two more figures — plainly dressed, bearing only mercenary insignia rather than noble standing, and yet possessing an extraordinary presence. One carried himself like a king among men; the other had an airy, transcendent quality, his wisdom deep as the sea, like a great sage.

And on yet another street, a man in black sat beneath a pine tree.

Masked. Tall, lean, and gaunt.

His gaze sharp as a dagger.

As Junior City Lord Jinji — this Assessment’s favorite to win the championship — passed by surrounded by his throng of attendant students, he appeared, in the eyes of this masked man, like a dead man already. Or perhaps a slab of pork laid out on the chopping block.

(End of Chapter)