Ji Shaoyu sat in Qingxin Hall, restless. Xi Jiuge listened intently to the lecture, yet his own thoughts scattered. He had suspected before leaving that she came for Li Hanguang, and now her behavior confirmed it.
Xi Jiuge, usually indifferent to all, had called out Li Hanguang’s demon‑world name—Shao Siyou. She remembered what even Ji Shaoyu himself had forgotten. For her, this was an anomaly. He laughed bitterly at himself: he had introduced them, and now she paid attention to him.
Most in Yongtian Palace saw Li Hanguang and Chang Ju for the first time today, but Ji Shaoyu had met them earlier in Beitian Palace, when the gods and demons negotiated peace. The Yellow Emperor, disdainful of demons, had passed the matter to Emperor Xuan, and Ji Shaoyu had been asked to show his face. Xi Jiuge had been there too. That single glance had left its mark.
Now, despite her frailty, she came to class. For Ji Shaoyu, it was both absurd and unsettling.
Li Hanguang’s face drew his gaze—skin pale as untouched snow, brows sharp as a sword, lips faintly red like blood brushed on ink. Fragile beauty, yet bones strong and heroic. A demon, yet appearing like an immortal venerable descended.
Ji Shaoyu’s trance broke when Chang Ju waved at him, bored of the lecture. He smiled faintly, but his mood remained heavy. Li Hanguang, seemingly focused, glanced back at him with quiet awareness.
The Master’s droning voice finally shifted: “This year’s annual exam…”
Heads lifted instantly. The written test was abolished; instead, students would enter a secret realm in pairs, judged by group results. The hall buzzed with questions until the Master silenced them. Teams of two, free to choose, with danger and difficulty balanced against score. No pets allowed, only weapons. Examiners would accompany them, but survival depended on their own strength.
The class ended, and excitement filled the hall.
Ji Gaoxin, son of King Jin Tianwang, called loudly across the room, summoning Ji Shaoyu and Xi Jiuge. His circle was the most coveted in Yongtian Palace, woven carefully to include only those of status—and gilded further by Xi Jiuge’s presence. Through her, Ji Gaoxin drew the descendants of emperors and clans.
Xi Jiuge, however, disliked noisy groups. She endured them only for Ji Shaoyu’s sake.
As they prepared to leave, she paused, turning to Li Hanguang. “How is the spell class arranged for Shao Siyou and the hostage girl?”
Li Hanguang, writing notes for Chang Ju, raised his head. He understood her intent. Respectful, he replied, “His Majesty has arranged a tutor for us. We will join later, once we catch up.”
Xi Jiuge met his eyes and smiled. “Shao Siyou and the hostage girl came from afar. Spells must be learned together. You should join us.”
Her words shocked the hall. Twice today she had spoken to him. Li Hanguang thought wryly: perhaps dying beneath the peony flower was still romantic. He accepted with a smile. “Thank you for your kindness.”
Ji Shaoyu, uneasy, asked her later, “Jiuge, why did you call him here?”
She answered lightly, “The demon world lacks aura. Their methods differ. I want to learn.”
It was plausible, yet Ji Shaoyu’s intuition whispered otherwise.
At the proving ground, Xi Jiuge tested her bow. Drawing it to full moon, she conjured a golden arrow of sunfire. Released, it pierced the target, igniting the field into a raging sea of flame. With a gesture, she summoned rain and rejuvenation, restoring the scorched earth to lush green.
Ji Shaoyu applauded sincerely. “Good arrow. Your skills have advanced again.”
None dared gossip now. Xi Jiuge’s divine fire and immortal arts were overwhelming—offense and defense united.
Li Hanguang arrived at the gate, watching the blaze. To others, it was destruction. To him, it was beauty.
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