Chapter 20
His expression shifted slightly as he absorbed it, the usual playfulness in his eyes dimming just a little. He stayed like that for a second, cheek still pressed against the desk, thinking.
Then he spoke, slower this time.
"But not everyone hates it," he said. "Sometimes… even a stranger's attention can do what familiar attention can't."
There was no teasing in his voice now.
Just something simple.
Honest.
Wuming didn't reply.
His gaze moved away again, returning to the closed window, to the faint light still slipping through the edges.
Silent.
As if the conversation had already ended for him.
But Weiyang didn't move either.
Still lying there.
Still watching him.
As if waiting—
Even though he knew no answer was coming.
Wei Zhi remained seated beside Yinghua, listening as she continued speaking without pause, her voice light and steady as she shared things about the academy—its rules, the instructors, the small details most students ignored. Wei Zhi responded occasionally, but her focus was elsewhere.
Observing.
Understanding.
Yinghua wasn't simple.
There was a quiet sharpness in her, something unrefined but present.
But Wei Zhi didn't think of her as anything dangerous.
Not yet.
To her, Yinghua was just a flower—
A pretty one.
Not fully bloomed.
Still unaware of what she might become.
That was all.
She did not know Wuming's past.
She did not know anything about bloodlines, enemies, or what Yinghua might represent beyond this moment.
So her thoughts remained simple.
Neutral.
As Yinghua kept talking, something else became clearer.
Not from her words—
But from her behavior.
Her gaze drifted.
Again.
And again.
Without intention.
Toward Wuming.
Wei Zhi noticed.
Then confirmed it.
Yinghua liked him.
It showed in the smallest things—
The way her attention shifted whenever he moved.
The way her body reacted before she even realized it.
The slight change in her tone.
Subtle.
But consistent.
Wei Zhi said nothing.
She just watched.
And understood.
Weiyang kept talking beside him, his voice moving easily from one thing to another, as if silence itself was something he refused to allow.
Wuming sat there, unmoving.
To anyone watching, it looked like he wasn't listening.
But he was.
Every word.
Every tone.
Every shift in Weiyang's voice.
He listened to all of it.
There was something about the way Weiyang spoke—so open, so unfiltered—that Wuming found… different. Not pleasant. Not unpleasant either.
Just different.
At the same time, it irritated him.
Slightly.
A feeling he couldn't fully define.
After spending so long in isolation, in silence that had weight and meaning, this kind of presence felt unfamiliar.
Confusing.
Who would even understand something like that?
Weiyang, on the other hand, didn't think that far.
He continued speaking, completely unbothered.
"I don't like that Yu Hang guy," he said, frowning. "He's just so annoying. Can you believe him?"
Wuming didn't respond.
Not immediately.
His eyes slowly closed.
Then opened again.
"It's your fault," he said flatly. "You let him do it."
Weiyang paused.
Then suddenly smiled.
"I knew you'd say that," he said, pointing slightly. "That's why I didn't say it earlier."
He grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself.
"But I did teach him a lesson."
He leaned forward slightly.
"I beat that pulp until his last breath—well, until he passed out," he corrected casually. "Even Shifu Haiyan had to step in to stop me."
Wuming's gaze shifted slightly.
"Who's Haiyan?"
Weiyang blinked once.
Then answered easily,
"He's my teacher."
He leaned back again, resting more comfortably as he continued,
"You see, he's the one who trains the young Renshou here at the academy first. After that, students move on for further training."
His tone remained light.
"He teaches all of us the basics."
Wuming listened.
Silently.
Again.
Wuming listened to him without interruption, his expression unchanged.
Inside, a quiet thought formed.
So… a nursery teacher.
I see.
His gaze remained steady, unfazed.
And that's supposed to be a big deal?
For him… it probably is.
He said nothing out loud.
But the thought stayed.
Weiyang's voice rose, sharp and burning with frustration.
"If I could, I would teach every single one of them a lesson," he said, his fists clenching slightly. "Everyone who underestimates me… everyone who looks down on me."
Wuming didn't react immediately.
Then, calmly—
"Well, everyone thinks you're a duffer."
A pause.
"Why wouldn't they? You failed the exam four times and somehow passed on the fifth. God knows how."
Weiyang's head snapped toward him.
"What's your problem, huh?" he snapped, anger rising fast. "Why are you—"
"I'm not deaf," Wuming cut in flatly. "You can talk calmly."
That only made it worse.
Weiyang's eyes widened in irritation.
"You—!"
Before he could continue—
The door slid open.
A soft sound.
But enough to cut through everything.
The room stilled.
A man walked in.
Tall. Lean.
His presence wasn't loud, but it carried something… unsettlingly quiet. Like a blade resting in its sheath—hidden, but real.
His hair was long and black, completely loose, falling past his shoulders in slightly uneven strands. It wasn't styled, not tied—just left as it was. A few locks framed his face, brushing along his sharp jawline, while the rest drifted behind him with a slow, natural movement.
His face was calm.
Too calm.
Pale skin, smooth, almost untouched by emotion. His eyes—light, dull silver—held no warmth, no curiosity. They didn't wander.
They assessed.
Once.
And that was enough.
He wore simple black robes. No heavy embroidery, no clan markings, no ornaments. Just clean, layered fabric—an outer robe falling straight, slightly loose, and inner garments fitted closer to his body. The sleeves were long, edges faintly worn, like they had seen use rather than display.
No scroll.
No list.
Nothing in his hands.
Wuming noticed instantly.
He came unprepared.
No.
Not unprepared.
He came like it didn't matter.
The man stopped at the front.
His gaze passed over them.
Weiyang.
Wuming.
Then the girls.
A small pause.
Then—
"Oh… it seems I'm the last."
Weiyang stood up immediately.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped. "Why the hell are you so late? Look at the time—it's almost evening!"
No reaction.
Not even a flicker.
The man simply looked at him.
Then spoke—
"Are you four… Xiao Weiyang, Xuan Yin Wuming, Wei Zhi, and Lan Yinghua?"
A brief silence.
"If so… I am Lin Yi."
"Your Shifu."
Weiyang frowned, irritation still clear on his face.
"Have you seen the time?"
Lin Yi's gaze didn't shift.
"Yes, Weiyang. I have."
Weiyang froze for a second.
He had never met him before.
So how—
Wei Zhi stood up next, her tone calm but firm.
"Lin Yi Shifu, it's past time. You're late. Almost one and a half hours. Any reason?"
Lin Yi finally looked at her properly.
Then, without changing expression—
"I lost my way, princess."
Weiyang scoffed loudly.
"And what? Am I a dog?"
Lin Yi glanced at him briefly.
"She asked politely."
"You barked."
A beat.
Wei Zhi let out a small laugh.
"It seems we're all going to get along just fine," she said lightly.
Then she stood fully, brushing her clothes slightly.
"So? Are you going to tell us anything? Instructions? Information? Introductions?"
A pause.
"Or shall we just call it a day?"
Lin Yi didn't hesitate.
"Sure."
"Let's call it a day."
"Meet me at the forest entrance. Seven in the morning."
"All four of you."
"On time."
And then—He moved.
A single hand rose.
His palm flattened, fingers aligned, thumb slightly curved inward—forming a precise, controlled hand sign.
The air shifted.
For a fraction of a second—
Something distorted.
And he was gone.
No sound.
No trace.
Just empty space where he had been standing.
Weiyang blinked.
"…What the hell?"
Silence filled the room again.
But this time—It wasn't normal.
Wuming's gaze lingered on the empty space where Lin Yi had been.
Gone.
Just like that.
No sound. No trace.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
He wasn't even wearing the academy uniform like the other male instructors.
No standard black training robes.
No bandages.
No formal insignia.
Just… informal clothes.
And yet—
He didn't look careless.
He didn't look tired either.
Not even a hint of fatigue.
As if being late, being absent, being present—
None of it mattered to him.
Strange.
Beside him, Wei Zhi turned, her expression already shifting away from the moment.
"Shall we walk home today?" she asked casually.
Weiyang stretched his arms behind his head.
"Yeah, sure."
Wuming gave a small nod.
They stood.
Chairs shifted slightly against the floor as all four of them began moving out.
Wei Zhi naturally took the lead.
Weiyang followed right behind her.
Yinghua walked after him, a little quieter, her steps light.
Wuming came last.
Silent.
Observing.
They hadn't gone far when—Wei Zhi suddenly turned around—and walked straight into Weiyang.
Thud.
She frowned immediately.
Then glanced past him.
At Yinghua.
Her brows lifted slightly.
Then she looked back at Weiyang.
"Move," she said simply. "Ladies first."
Weiyang blinked.
"Oh? But why?"
Wei Zhi looked at him like the answer was obvious.
"Haven't your parents taught you basic manners?" she said calmly. "A lady walks in front."
Yinghua spoke softly from behind,
"It's not a big deal…"
Wei Zhi didn't respond immediately.
Her gaze lingered on both of them for a second.
Then she looked back at Weiyang.
Weiyang scoffed lightly.
"What a troublesome rule," he said. "And kind of foolish too. Aren't we supposed to be equal? That's what you girls say."
Wei Zhi's eyes sharpened slightly.
"Oh, we are equal," she said.
A pause.
"Then tell me—why aren't men the ones giving birth?"
Weiyang choked on his own breath.
"Wha—"
Before he could recover, Wei Zhi stepped forward, grabbed Yinghua's wrist gently, and pulled her up beside her.
"It's not about equality," she added calmly. "It's about consideration."
Then her tone softened slightly as she turned to Yinghua.
"You're new between us. I've known them for months… years, even."
A small pause.
"Where do you live?"
Yinghua blinked, a little surprised by the sudden shift.
"Ah—it's not far," she said. "About ten minutes walking from the academy."
Wei Zhi nodded.
"Alright."
Simple.
Settled.
Behind them, Weiyang made a face, clearly unconvinced, and slowed his pace slightly—falling back beside Wuming.
He glanced at him.
Wuming glanced back.
Weiyang waited.
Expecting something.
Anything.
Wuming leaned slightly closer and said quietly—
"Don't look at me."
A beat.
"If you want me to say something, I won't."
"I don't argue with women."
Another pause.
"Or most humans."
"They waste too much energy."
Weiyang stared at him.
Then groaned dramatically.
"You're no fun."
Wuming didn't reply.
His gaze shifted forward again.
Watching.
As the two girls walked ahead.
And the distance between them stayed exactly the same.
Weiyang suddenly reached out and grabbed Wuming by the sleeve, pulling him closer to his side as they walked.
"You walk beside me," he said.
Wuming didn't even look at him.
"Whatever."
Weiyang frowned instantly.
"You—! You're not some hotshot, okay? Stop acting like this."
Wuming finally glanced at him, expression flat.
"Like what?"
A pause.
"Your idol?"
Weiyang froze.
Then his face twisted in pure irritation.
Veins almost popping at his temple.
"I hate you."
Wuming replied without missing a beat—
"I hate you more."
Weiyang leaned closer, glaring.
"I hate you a thousand times more."
"I hate you a billion times."
"A trillion!"
"A quadrillion."
"Quintillion!"
"Sextillion."
By now, both of them had unconsciously leaned toward each other, faces inches apart, voices rising at the same pitch, hands still behind their backs as they walked in sync—like two idiots in perfect rhythm.
"Septillion!"
"Octillion."
"Nonillion!"
"Decillion."
Silence.
Weiyang stopped.
His brows furrowed.
His mouth opened—
Then closed.
Nothing came out.
Because—
He didn't know what came next.
Wuming saw it.
And slowly—
A smirk appeared.
Small.
Sharp.
The first real one.
Inside his mind, a quiet thought echoed—
The biggest number left… is googol.
Heh.
Weiyang narrowed his eyes.
"…Why did you stop?"
Wuming straightened slightly, calm again.
"No reason."
Weiyang stared at him, suspicious.
"…You're hiding something."
End of 20