Chapter 13: The Name Raised to the Board
The Board of Education hall was quieter than the training grounds had been.
That was not to say it was peaceful.
The long chamber sat at the center of Heaven Dou Imperial Academy main campus, broad and high-roofed, its stone floor smooth enough to mirror lamplight in broken ribbons. Outside, the academy was settling toward evening. The noise of students had thinned. Practice fields were cooling beneath the last of the day. But inside the hall, there was only measured silence, the sort that formed when powerful men chose to think before they spoke.
Meng Shenji sat at the center of the raised seats, fingers resting lightly on the arm of his chair.
To his left sat Bai Baoshan, broad and heavy as a mountain even while seated, his expression as unreadable as packed earth. To the right sat Zhi Lin, narrow-eyed and calm, with the air of a man who had long ago learned that the most useful words were often the ones spoken last.
Instructor Han stood below them with his hands clasped behind his back.
He looked less comfortable than he had while stopping a duel between two students.
That was understandable.
It was one thing to control boys.
It was another to explain them to the higher up.
"So," Meng Shenji said at last, his voice mild enough that it forced everyone else to listen carefully, "tell it again."
Han did not sigh, though he seemed tempted.
He repeated it anyway.
The challenge. The wording. Sun Ji posture. Renyu acceptance. The rules declared before the match. The opening exchanges. The result.
He gave the account like a man filing a report to the military—plainly, without decoration, and therefore all the more useful.
"He used only two spirit rings?" Bai Baoshan asked.
Han nodded. "Yes."
"No third-ring control skill?" Zhi Lin asked.
"None."
Meng Shenji gaze sharpened by a fraction. "You are certain?"
Han had been asked that already.
He answered with the patience of a man who knew he would be asked it again.
"I am certain," he said. "He did not release a third soul ring. He used the first and second only."
That drew the first change in the room.
Not surprise. Not exactly.
But interest refined into a more serious shape.
Bai Baoshan leaned back in his chair. "And Sun Ji was at full strength?"
"He did not hold back after the first exchange," Han said. "His Firebird martial spirit was fully active. His intent was to crush the match quickly after losing the opening rhythm."
"As he would," Bai Baoshan muttered.
Zhi Lin tapped one finger once against the side of his cup.
"The challenge itself was not spontaneous."
It was not phrased as a question.
Han glanced at him. "No."
"Xue Beng?"
Han hesitated only briefly.
"Almost certainly."
Meng Shenji let out a faint breath through his nose.
There was no outrage in it. A prince using another student ego as a blade was neither rare nor especially imaginative. Heaven Dou Imperial Academy was the empire finest academy, but it was still a place full of noble children. Rank and cultivation did not erase pettiness. If anything, they often refined it.
"The fourth prince is becoming less subtle," Bai Baoshan said.
"The fourth prince is becoming older," Zhi Lin corrected. "Age teaches some people patience. It teaches others ambition."
Meng Shenji did not join that line of thought. His attention had settled elsewhere.
"Describe the martial spirit," he said.
Han brow furrowed slightly.
This, at least, was harder to report in clean terms.
"It began from the chest," he said slowly. "Not as a beast projection. Not as a standard tool spirit appearing directly in the hand. Light first. Blue. Crystalline. Then armor, then sword."
"A spirit armor type?" Bai Baoshan said.
"Possibly," Han replied.
Zhi Lin shook his head faintly. "No. Not exactly. Armor-type spirits do not usually present with that degree of transformation sequencing."
Meng Shenji looked to Han again. "And the sword?"
"Curved. Refined. High compatibility with the form, from the look of it. Not clumsy. Not just newly learned." Han paused. "Very sword-like in temperament. Possibly begin under Prince Xu Qinghe."
That, unexpectedly, made Bai Baoshan laugh once.
"Very sword-like in temperament?"
Han face did not change.
"You asked for my impression."
Meng Shenji steepled his fingers.
"A transformation-type martial spirit with a crystalline core, armor manifestation, and a sword form," he said. "A very rare martial spirit"
"Yes," Han said.
"Yet the second ring is not merely weapon manifestation," Zhi Lin said softly. "Is that your reading?"
Han eyes flickered toward him.
Zhi Lin continued before he could answer.
"The way you describe it, the second ring is like a selection mechanism, not a simple summon. He chose the sword. He did not merely call one."
For a moment no one spoke.
That was the sort of observation that changed the shape of a talent.
Bai Baoshan frowned. "Multiple forms?"
"Likely," Zhi Lin said.
"Then why show only one?"
Han answered that one.
"Because maybe he thought that is enough for the fight."
That was the first statement in the room that carried more weight than curiosity.
Meng Shenji nodded once.
"Yes," he said. "That is what interests me."
Not the victory.
Not even the unusual martial spirit.
The restraint the kid have. Not many people have that kind of composure. Most children at that age want to show off.
Well if you said show off, that song that he sang already becoming popular among the people. Both noble and commoner.
Heaven Dou Imperial Academy had never lacked for gifted students. Some were born with top-grade bloodlines. Some arrived with resources that would have bought a lesser city. Some had the sort of innate talent that made teachers eyes open wide and rivals resent them on sight.
But rarest of all, especially among the young, were those who understood what not to show.
"Tell me about the fight itself," Meng Shenji said. "Not the result. The method."
Han expression eased, just slightly. This part he respected more.
"Sun Ji wanted to win immediately," he said. "Renyu knew it. He spent the opening exchange reading footwork, not contesting force directly. He redirected more than he blocked. He never fought for the center when he could take the angle instead. Once Sun Ji grew impatient, the match was already decided in all but name."
Bai Baoshan grunted.
"That sounds like an older fighter."
"It looked like one too," Han said.
Zhi Lin eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "How old is the boy again?"
"Twelve."
"And he is level thirty-nine?"
Han inclined his head. "So the file says."
Bai Baoshan brows rose. "At twelve."
"Yes."
A quiet settled over the room after that.
They all knew what rank thirty-nine meant at that age.
Even at Heaven Dou Imperial Academy, where aristocratic children were supplied with the best teachers, resources, and mimicry cultivation grounds the empire could offer, that was not a number one dismissed. A child who had already entered the Heaven Dou level of academy classification by sheer soul power alone was already unusual. A child who had done so as a commoner by birth was even more so.
Meng Shenji broke the silence.
"And the rings?"
Han said, "One thousand years for the first. The second was also the same as it appear briefly to supported the transformation cleanly."
Bai Baoshan heavy face finally showed real reaction. "A thousand-year first ring."
"Publicly known already," Han said. "The court did not make a secret of it."
"The court was foolish," Bai Baoshan replied.
"No," Zhi Lin said mildly. "The court was deliberate."
That drew a glance from Meng Shenji, but not disagreement.
Everyone in the room understood what stood behind that remark.
Xue Qinghe did very little without purpose.
A common-born child personally brought in beneath the crown prince favor. Public praise. Direct imperial acceptance. And now, after only one week, a measured duel win before the student body.
Too many things aligned too cleanly for chance.
"Do you think the crown prince intended this?" Bai Baoshan asked.
Han gave the answer of a careful man.
"I think the crown prince is not often surprised by consequences so he might already plan that it to happen already."
Meng Shenji mouth curved very faintly.
A fair answer.
His eyes lowered to the report tablet set before him. Renyu. Age twelve. Common-born by academy record. Backed by the crown prince. First ring beyond reason. Second ring transformation. Temperament stable. Public conduct proper. Tactical judgment advanced.
A good file.
Sound too good, perhaps.
Which was why he trusted it slightly less and valued it slightly more.
"How did he carry himself after the match?" Meng Shenji asked.
Han reply came without pause.
"Politely."
Bai Baoshan snorted. "That is not a description."
"It is when speaking of children," Han said dryly. "He did not humiliate Sun Ji. He did not posture before the crowd. He offered one sentence of advice, withdrew the blade, saluted properly, and left."
Zhi Lin looked almost amused.
"What advice?"
Han voice flattened in imitation of Renyu's calm.
"Your first move was too eager. You should look calmly and maintain a clear head while fighting."
Bai Baoshan let out a low huff that might have been laughter.
Meng Shenji closed his eyes for a brief moment, considering it.
Not mockery.
Not softness either.
The boy had corrected his opponent without lowering himself to cruelty.
That sort of self-command was a good attitude and he like it. He is not arrogant.
If he is arrogance then he could be guided, baited, broken, or flattered.
"Then the academy opinion will rise," Meng Shenji said.
"It already has," Han replied. "The students are speaking of him differently."
That, too, mattered.
Heaven Dou Imperial Academy recruited aristocrats almost exclusively. A commoner entering such a place began beneath suspicion no matter how much imperial favor smoothed the gates. Winning one duel would not erase that. But it could change the angle of contempt. It could force the noble-born to stop asking why is he here and start asking how strong is he really.
That was a beginning.
Bai Baoshan folded his thick arms.
"If he is truly level thirty-nine at twelve, and if his battle judgment is as Han says, then keeping him among the ordinary student ranks is wasteful."
Han said nothing.
But his silence agreed.
Zhi Lin looked toward Meng Shenji. "You are thinking of the first team."
The words settled heavily.
Not because the idea was absurd.
Because it was not.
Heaven Dou Imperial Academy main seeded team—its strongest front, the face it intended to show the continent—was not a casual placement. It was the academy pride distilled into seven names. A place among them meant more than talent. It meant expectation. Position. Public meaning. And, in certain years, direct relevance to the empire standing before the Continental Advanced Academy Soul Dueling Tournament. The main Emperor Team was the academy seeded squad and advanced straight into the finals stage rather than fighting through preliminary rounds.
"Not immediately," Meng Shenji said.
Bai Baoshan glanced at him. "But eventually."
"Possibly."
Han finally spoke again. "There will be resistance."
"From students?" Bai Baoshan asked.
"From noble families," Han said. "A commoner with imperial favor is troublesome enough. A commoner raised into the academy main team becomes a target and strong political move."
"Everything in this academy is a political move," Zhi Lin said.
No one contradicted him.
Meng Shenji fingers drummed once against the arm of his seat.
He was not a sentimental man. Heaven Dou Imperial Academy did not survive on sentiment. It was the empire academy, and therefore every gifted student who entered it had to be weighed twice—once for talent, once for existence.
Renyu existence was difficult.
He was useful.
That alone already made him look dangerous and high value.
"I do not intend to reward one duel with a fixed place," Meng Shenji said at last. "But I do intend to watch what sort of student wins like that at twelve."
Han bowed his head slightly. "Understood."
"Move him upward in training exposure," Meng Shenji continued. "Not publicly. Not yet. Let the first team instructors see him. Let the current team members hear of him before they meet him. Measure their reaction."
Bai Baoshan nodded. "And Sun Ji?"
"Let him keep his pride if he can manage it," Meng Shenji said. "A lesson learned in public is punishment enough."
That was generous by academy standards.
It was also practical. Crushed noble boys became noisy noble sons, and noisy noble sons brought fathers with titles. Better to let the wound settle into humiliation and let that humiliation teach discipline if it could.
Zhi Lin gaze lowered thoughtfully.
"The singing," he said.
Han looked at him.
"The report mentioned unusual sound phenomena around the duel court."
Han mouth tightened. "Yes."
Bai Baoshan frowned. "An illusion effect?"
"No," Han said. "Not from what I could tell. The sound did not interfere with the senses. It centered on him. It was… part of the activation."
"A martial spirit that sings," Bai Baoshan said.
"The more correct one will be that martial spirit that responds to song," Zhi Lin corrected quietly.
Meng Shenji eyes sharpened again.
That detail had interested him from the beginning.
Not because sound-type spirits were unheard of.
But because this had not been a sound-type assault. The song had strengthened the form. Structured the movement. Sharpened the user.
A passive enhancement tied to vocalization. An unusual first ring. A multi-form transformation second ring. A temperament closer to a trained swordsman than a gifted child.
He understood now why Xue Qinghe had bothered.
Or at least part of why.
"If the song is tied to his first ring," Meng Shenji said, "then the longer he sustains it, the stronger his body harmonization becomes."
Han gave him a measured look. "That was my impression."
"And he still chose to end the fight quickly," Zhi Lin murmured.
Noted.
Meng Shenji leaned back at last.
"Then we proceed slowly," he said. "Continue observation. Increase pressure discreetly. Arrange stronger sparring partners over time. If his growth continues at this rate, then we will discuss first-team placement in earnest."
Bai Baoshan mouth moved. "You already think he belongs there."
Meng Shenji did not answer immediately.
Then, very mildly, he said, "I think he is the first child in some time to make me ask whether our current standards are strict enough."
That was more than praise.
Han heard it and felt the weight of it clearly.
Zhi Lin did too.
Bai Baoshan let out a deep breath and nodded once. "Then the matter is simple. We watch. We test. And if the boy proves equal to what we saw today—"
"He enters Team One," Meng Shenji finished.
No one objected.
Because no one in the room truly wished to.
The hall fell quiet again after that, but it was no longer the polished quiet from before. This one had direction in it. Decision. The shape of the academy shifting, however slightly, around a single name.
Renyu.
One week.
And already raised the Board attention.
________
Far from the academy, in a quieter residence where evening lamps had just been lit, a servant bowed low before finishing his report.
Ning Fengzhi listened with his usual composed smile, one hand resting loosely against the table.
Across from him, Chen Xin sat with eyes half-closed, as if uninterested.
That appearance deceived many people.
Not Ning Fengzhi.
"A sword-user?" Ning Fengzhi said lightly. "At Heaven Dou Imperial Academy?"
"A child, Sect Master," the servant replied. "Twelve years old. Common-born by record. The crown prince ward. He defeated an older student cleanly."
Ning Fengzhi glanced sideways.
Stillness had entered Chen Xin posture.
The servant continued, uncertain whether he had said something wrong.
"The unusual point," he said, "is that the boy martial spirit answered to song. Witnesses said he sang when he transformed. During the fight as well."
That was enough.
Chen Xin eyes opened.
For an instant, the room seemed sharper.
"A sword," he said, voice flat and cold as drawn steel, "that sings?"
The servant swallowed. "That is how it was described."
Silence.
Then Chen Xin rose.
No rush. No outward excitement.
Which, from him, was far more telling.
Ning Fengzhi smiled faintly into his cup.
He knew that look.
Interest.
True interest.
Chen Xin turned his gaze toward the darkening window, toward the direction of the academy beyond the city.
"A child who uses a sword is not rare," he said. "A child who understands one is."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"And a child whose sword is accompanied by song…" He paused. "That is rarer still."
Ning Fengzhi set down his cup.
"Then shall I have the academy send more detailed word?"
Chen Xin did not answer immediately.
But the edge of his aura had already changed.
"Yes," he said at last. "I would hear more of this Renyu."