“Actually, I was thinking of using a rainbow-colored glow—wouldn’t that make Senior Sister look more immortal?”

 

By now, Luan Ling had already seen through Li Xiao and Dugu’s little scheme. In order to save Qilin Hall—which otherwise had nothing going for it and might be abandoned—they had actually decided to turn their multi-talented senior sister into an idol.

 

She looked up at the snow falling from the sky, yawned, then glanced at Si Zhuo, who was coughing beside her.

 

“That color scheme is unbearably tacky. And you actually won a painting competition? I’m starting to suspect you bribed the judges.” Si Zhuo raised his hand, staring at the pill in his palm, hesitating to swallow it.

 

“What do you know? You think dressing in pitch-black all the time looks good? Fashion is decided by people. What’s trendy will eventually go out of style, and what’s outdated will resurface after time has passed. Fashion is just a cycle, isn’t it?”

 

Luan Ling rambled on casually. Seeing that he still hadn’t taken the medicine, she stepped forward, grabbed his hand, and in one smooth motion shoved the pill straight into his mouth.

 

“Mmph—”

 

The strange taste nearly sent Si Zhuo’s soul flying out of his body. He bent over, clutching his chest.

 

Luan Ling immediately steadied him. “Are you even a man? You can’t handle a little bitterness?”

 

“You call this a little bitter?” Si Zhuo stared at the pill bottle in disbelief. “Give me a few more and this story can end right here—believe it or not?”

 

“You can complain about anything except the plot settings—take that back!” Luan Ling shouted. Just as she was about to argue further, she suddenly sensed someone calling out to her through divine consciousness.

 

“Are you two still on the mountain? Someone’s requesting help. I’ve issued a task for both of you—depart immediately.”

 

Someone actually used the hotline? Luan Ling was genuinely shocked.

 

But after meeting the client, it suddenly made sense.

 

It was the fairy who had fallen the day before.

 

“This is my first time using divine consciousness to ask for help,” the fairy said, supporting her waist awkwardly. “I fell yesterday, so I really didn’t dare go out myself.”

 

“No problem. Running errands is exactly what Qilin Hall does,” Luan Ling replied cheerfully. “If you wanted, we could even go down to the lower realm and slay a dragon to nourish you.”

 

Si Zhuo: ?

 

Fortunately, the fairy didn’t recognize them. She waved her hands in alarm. “Dragons are divine beasts! You’re still young—don’t disregard the laws of the Heavenly Realm.”

 

Her seriousness made Luan Ling feel a little embarrassed. Laughing, she said, “I was just joking. Where would you like us to deliver this meal?”

 

“The Western Heavenly Gate. My husband is stationed there,” the fairy said with a gentle smile. “His name is Chang Tao. Please take care of it.”

 

“No trouble at all. We’ll be on our way,” Luan Ling said, bidding her farewell.

 

This mission seemed to be mainly practice for teleportation—no real challenge.

 

“Western Heavenly Gate…” Si Zhuo suddenly said while they were en route. “I remember we’re also supposed to kick out five demons there.”

 

Compared to delivering meals, fighting was what he really wanted to do. He wondered how his underlings were doing now.

 

“With this body? Better not,” Luan Ling replied. “Your job right now is to calm your mind, sickly beauty.”

 

“You still have time to take that back.”

 

“Once words are spoken, they can’t be taken back—sickly beauty~”

 

Si Zhuo raised his hand, intending to conjure a fireball. Instead, a book printed with obscene illustrations appeared.

 

He flung it away like a hot potato. Just as Luan Ling was about to call the Heavenly Anti-Pornography Hotline, he said coldly, “If it weren’t for your family’s group of lunatics, even with this weak body, I could still command clouds and rain.”

 

“Who are you calling weak?! I’m the champion of the Heavenly All-Rounder Cup!”

 

“A bookworm, that’s all. Let me ask you one thing—have you ever been to the mortal realm?”

 

Luan Ling fell silent, then snapped back angrily. “At least I didn’t burn down a school! You’re only acting tough because your true form is a dragon!”

 

Si Zhuo chuckled. “I didn’t burn down that school just because I refused to submit.”

 

“Don’t tell me you’re about to say ‘my fate is mine, not Heaven’s’—someone already said that while ripping out an ancestor’s tendons!”

 

That stopped him short. The two stared at each other in silence.

 

A heavenly soldier stationed at the Western Gate had noticed them arguing for quite some time but didn’t seem interested enough to intervene.

 

Time to get to work.

 

Luan Ling lifted the food box and glanced at the empty side of the Western Gate, puzzled that only one soldier was on duty.

 

“Excuse me, are you Chang Tao?” she asked the soldier standing rigidly upright.

 

“Chang Tao is away on business,” the soldier replied stiffly.

 

Abandoning one’s post at the Western Gate—the most dangerous of the heavenly gates? That was suspicious.

 

Luan Ling exchanged a look with Si Zhuo, wishing she knew tracking magic.

 

Just then, another soldier passed by them, adjusting his armor, and took up the empty post.

 

That confirmed it.

 

Luan Ling stepped forward with the food box. “You’re Chang Tao, right? Your wife asked us to deliver this meal. It’s still warm.”

 

Chang Tao froze for a moment, then accepted it nervously. “Thank you, both of you.”

 

Luan Ling watched him, waiting—but there was no follow-up.

 

“…Is something wrong?” Chang Tao asked, confused.

 

She shook her head. “Eat well. We’ll be leaving.”

 

Turning away, she glanced back strangely before teleporting away with Si Zhuo.

 

“You noticed something, didn’t you?” Si Zhuo asked.

 

“Didn’t that seem odd to you?” Luan Ling replied. “When I handed him the food, he looked stunned, then nervous—and then completely expressionless. That’s not how someone reacts when their loving wife sends them a meal.”

 

Si Zhuo nodded. “A Western Gate guard leaving his post is suspicious to begin with.”

 

The Western Gate led directly to the demon-infested Western Sea. Compared to the other gates, it had the strictest patrols. A primary guard abandoning his position was clearly abnormal.

 

Though Si Zhuo hadn’t been in the Heavenly Realm long, he’d kicked enough immortals down to the mortal world to understand the gate system. This wasn’t normal.

 

“Should we report it?” Luan Ling asked.

 

“No interest,” Si Zhuo replied flatly. “If there were really some grand conspiracy, do you think the other soldier would still be standing there so calmly?”

 

Fair point. Reporting it would only make them nosy do-gooders—and give a colleague a chance to shine.

 

“If we get another chance, we should use him to practice tracking magic,” Luan Ling said thoughtfully. “That way we wouldn’t be so passive.”

 

For once, she was genuinely excited about learning more spells.

 

When they returned to Qilin Hall, many students had already left, but plenty of immortals were still coming and going. It really did look like a lively entertainment district.

 

“I’m starting to feel like this is all Wen Yuan’s conspiracy,” Luan Ling said, rubbing her chin. “Dumping this undeveloped land on us at the edge of the academy—wasn’t it just to save funding?”

 

The hot spring on the hill had been discovered by accident by Dugu, but for a shrewd divine lord like Wen Yuan to miss it entirely was highly suspicious.

 

“You’re back? I was thinking of having you fetch some flower seedlings from the Flower Fairy,” Dugu said, passing by with a stack of scrolls. “Go to Cuizhu Pavilion. I’m swamped today—I need to assign you some proper tasks.”

 

Cuizhu Pavilion? The bamboo grove that Senior Sister nearly stripped bare?

 

Suspicious, Luan Ling went to check—and sure enough, a classroom plaque was already hanging there.

 

“Sit down first. Your senior brother and second senior sister are still busy. I have a task for you.”

 

Another task?! Do technicians not deserve rest?!

 

“That’s right—you don’t.”

 

A gentle voice came from outside the pavilion. Just hearing it made the speaker obvious.

 

Luan Ling shot Si Zhuo a look—see? She’d said it already. The headmaster was an old demon who loved exploiting staff and students.

 

“Ow!”

 

She clutched her head, staring in shock at Wen Yuan as he passed by.

 

Could this old demon read minds?!

 

“If you don’t fix that expression, I can tell exactly what you’re thinking,” Si Zhuo said coolly. He’d been annoyed for a while at her using his face to make idiotic expressions.

 

To be fair, neither of them liked the other’s expressions—one thought the other looked dumb, the other thought the constant scowl was unbearable.

 

Luan Ling glared at him and rubbed her head again.

 

The ones who smiled the most always hit the hardest.

 

“Headmaster, why are you here?” she asked.

 

Wen Yuan opened his folding fan and glanced at Dugu, who understood immediately and stepped outside.

 

“I came today because I heard about what’s happening in Qilin Hall.”

 

He took out two embroidered pouches and handed one to each of them.

 

Luan Ling opened hers in confusion and found what looked like a pile of seeds.

 

“One contains fruit and vegetable seeds, the other flower and herb seeds,” Wen Yuan explained.

 

He looked pointedly at Si Zhuo. “Those seedlings are rare immortal herbs. They’ll greatly benefit your body. I don’t even get to see them often. If you don’t cultivate them properly…”

 

Si Zhuo raised an eyebrow. “And then?”

 

“Nothing,” Wen Yuan smiled. “You’ll just return them to me. After all, the academy’s budget is limited.”

 

The neighboring academy was watching eagerly—any extra resources were a joy.

 

Without another word, Si Zhuo flicked his wrist and tucked the pouch into his sleeve.

 

Saying no with his mouth, but honest with his body.

 

That was probably the state of modern young immortals.

 

Wen Yuan narrowed his eyes, recalling what someone had said to him yesterday, and amended his thoughts—older immortals might have the same problem.

 

Ah well. Whether they figured things out or not wasn’t his concern. He was just an observer.

 

“Work hard. Switch back as soon as possible.”

 

With a meaningful smile, Wen Yuan turned and vanished.

 

Luan Ling stared at the pouch in her hand, dazed.

 

“So… what now?” she asked.

 

Si Zhuo stood up and glanced sideways at her. “What else? We work.”

 

For the sake of revenge, he had to nurse this sickly body back to health.

 

Still, something felt off.

 

Thinking back to the immortal herbs he’d just seen—he’d encountered countless rare treasures in the Eastern Sea. The plants in the pouch were undeniably priceless.

 

Which made it strange.

 

Why would someone like Wen Yuan—who looked kind but was clearly sharp and calculating—be so generous? Shouldn’t he be shaking down Si Zhuo’s grandfather instead?