“Is there really no other way, Headmaster? I don’t want to be a man!”

Just thinking about it gave Luan Ling a headache. Losing her divine power was one thing, but even if the dragon race had handsome transformations and innate advantages, she still preferred being a girl.

“That’s an easy problem to solve.” Wen Yuan poured the brewed tea into cups, smiling serenely. “Once you’ve learned transformation techniques, this won’t be an issue at all.”

“I could transform the moment I was born.”

“I could imitate immortal lords when I was three!”

Some things weren’t learned at all—they were innate talents.

“Yes, you were very clever before,” Wen Yuan said, sliding the two cups of tea toward them. “Precisely because you were too clever, once you changed bodies, you suddenly knew nothing.”

“You’ve lived this long relying entirely on instinct.” Wen Yuan lifted his fan and tapped his temple. “You’ve never really used this.”

“Calm down, big brother!” Luan Ling grabbed Si Zhuo, who looked like he was about to move. “Headmaster, that’s too much! Apologize right now! How can you say he has no brain?!”

Si Zhuo glanced at her calmly. He had only wanted to change his sitting position—his legs had gone numb.

“I didn’t insult him,” Wen Yuan replied gently. “I insulted both of you.”

Si Zhuo calmly took a sip of tea with his left hand while pressing Luan Ling back into her seat with his right.

He wanted to punch the immortal lord in front of him even more than she did—but even at their respective peaks, neither of them could beat Wen Yuan.

Whether in battle or slaughter, staying calm was always the first rule.

Seeing the former troublemaking little tyrant fall uncharacteristically silent, Wen Yuan nodded in satisfaction and brought out what he had prepared.

“What’s this?” Luan Ling took the jade token he handed her and read the inscription aloud, puzzled.

“Qilin Hall. Luan Ling.”

She flipped it over. On the back was the emblem of the Celestial Academy, along with personal information only the owner could see.

This jade token was something every academy student had—but Qilin Hall? What kind of name was that? It sounded like some underground organization. She’d never even seen students from that class before.

“Never heard of it, right?” Wen Yuan lifted his cup in a toast, smiling broadly. “Congratulations—you’ve been chosen.”

“Headmaster, please stop smiling. Those crow’s feet are really obvious,” Luan Ling said worriedly, swirling the pale tea in her cup. She liked sweet drinks, not green tea.

Wen Yuan’s nerves twitched. He was elegant and handsome, the very picture of an immortal—old, my ass!

Just as he was about to lecture her on respect for elders, Si Zhuo unexpectedly asked a serious question.

“How would a qilin appear in the heavens?”

Among divine beasts, qilin were different from dragons, whose clans were well organized. Qilin specialized in bringing auspicious fortune, which made them frequent targets of covetous attention. Over time, they became solitary creatures, mostly active in the mortal realm.

“You noticed,” Wen Yuan said approvingly. “That’s right. Your new instructor comes from the qilin clan.”

“Really?” After being tormented by bad luck for so long, Luan Ling’s eyes lit up. She nearly took off running to meet the teacher.

Si Zhuo sneered, lifting his jade token. “Probably of impure blood.”

Please stop with the Slytherin behavior, Luan Ling shot him a look.

“That’s the instructor’s private matter,” Wen Yuan said lightly, folding his fan and retrieving the empty and full cups. “If you’re curious, you can ask them yourselves. If you want to prove your strength, then start from zero.”

Si Zhuo gave him a long look, then stood up and left, following Luan Ling, whose entire body radiated cheerfulness.

Don’t ask why he followed her—his body was weak now. After two steps he’d be out of breath. Without someone supporting him, he might collapse in the academy hallway.

“I have to say, you look pretty good like this,” Luan Ling remarked, watching him sway like a fragile willow in the wind. She barely managed not to laugh.

Si Zhuo glared at her, then shut his eyes in discomfort.

Even glaring counted as strenuous exercise now?

This world was changing far faster than he’d imagined.

Earlier, Luan Ling had confidently claimed that if they had no intersection, there was no need to know each other. Now they were fellow disciples. Truly, the curse of jinxing oneself never ended.

“Our classroom is ridiculously far away,” Luan Ling said, checking the information in her jade token and trudging onward.

She started to miss that red cord—ascending through the air had been pure bliss. You never realized how valuable an ability was until you lost it.

After walking for a while without even seeing the academy’s shadow, trouble found them again.

“I met him first! I was the first to know him, the first to be engaged to him, the first to love him…”

Luan Ling glanced around. If they wanted to reach the academy, they could only go forward.

Oh heavens. Even during class hours?

She pressed her lips together and pulled the frail Si Zhuo forward.

“Hey—fellow students!”

Of course. She’d been noticed immediately. This was a 100% passive skill—no dodging it.

“So tell me,” the male lead said helplessly, looking at them. “Who should I be with? They’re both good girls—I don’t want to hurt either of them.”

None of my damn business.

Luan Ling shot him a sideways glance and was about to leave when something occurred to her.

Wasn’t the frequency of these encounters way too high today? It used to be once every few days—now it was nonstop.

Right. If problems weren’t solved, they would keep piling up.

She smiled and pointed at Si Zhuo, who was resting with his eyes closed.

“See this? Even if she’s about to die, I’ll die with her. That’s love—life and death together, unwavering true love.”

Her tone grew increasingly deranged, like someone who had given up on treatment entirely.

“You… you’re…!” One of the female leads suddenly recognized him. Wasn’t this the lunatic who set fire to their academy?!

The three of them immediately fled together in panic, holding hands as they ran—remarkably harmonious.

Luan Ling turned back, satisfied.

“Hmph.” Si Zhuo let out a breathy sneer. “Life and death together?”

Luan Ling laughed awkwardly. “I meant me and myself. Perfectly reasonable.”

Then she remembered something and eyed him suspiciously.

“You don’t have some childhood betrothal or fiancée, do you?”

If he did, she’d throw her body away immediately. Gossip wasn’t the main issue—she was afraid of getting dragged into melodramatic love triangles. Mocking others was fine, but watching her own house collapse? Absolutely not.

Si Zhuo replied flatly, “What era do you think this is? Childhood engagements? You sound like mortals.”

Even mortals had cultivators who could foresee the future. As gods, they could see far more. The increasingly open atmosphere of the heavens came precisely from such foresight.

“I know times have changed, but you have no idea what I’ve been through!” Luan Ling said indignantly, supporting him as they walked. “Every melodramatic god in the heavens has their eyes on me!”

Si Zhuo curled his lips slightly. “Turn left.”

She screeched to a halt and turned left.

“Junior brother? Junior sister?”

A voice suddenly came from behind.

Everyone else was in class. Only the two of them were on this path—so it had to be them.

Luan Ling turned around and nearly died of fright.

“Y-you—you—what are you?!”

Si Zhuo turned as well, frowning.

Standing there was a headless monster.

“I warn you! I’m a legitimate god of the heavens! Don’t come any closer! One step closer and you’ll be annihilated!”

Luan Ling retreated shamelessly. She’d never left the heavens since her birth—how could she have seen something this terrifying?

Si Zhuo, irritated by her noise, examined the apparently intimidated headless being and said calmly,

“We’re both new students of Qilin Hall.”

The moment he finished speaking, the headless figure nearly lunged forward to give them a warm hug, stopped only by Luan Ling’s murderous glare.

“The instructor said the path was long and worried you’d get lost, so I came to pick you up,” he said, scratching at the spot where his head should have been.

“I’m your class monitor, Li Xiao. You can call me Senior Brother—or Li Xiao.”

Seeing that Li Xiao seemed friendly, Luan Ling felt a little guilty. Was it wrong to discriminate against headless gods? The war god Xing Tian didn’t have a head either! She really shouldn’t judge by appearance.

“Hello, Senior Brother,” she said apologetically while supporting Si Zhuo. “It’s my first time seeing a headless god, I got scared, so…”

“Headless? What do you mean headless?”

The question was sincere—he genuinely sounded confused.

Huh?

Luan Ling blinked and exchanged a look with Si Zhuo.

“Oh no! Did my head fall off?!”

The headless man slapped at his headless neck, panicking even more than they were, frantically searching the ground.

“Where’s my head? Where’s my head?!”

Brother, are you acting in some kind of postmodern absurdist film?!

The Heavenly Mental Asylum seriously needed expansion.

Both new students thought so silently.

“My head is gone…”

The headless man suddenly froze mid-search and turned toward them, as if looking directly at them.

“My head is gone. Can I borrow yours?”

The air fell silent.

“AAAAAAAAAAAA—!”

Luan Ling nearly lost her soul. She ran two steps, realized Si Zhuo hadn’t followed, turned back, slung him over her shoulder, and bolted while screaming that there was a ghost.

She really wasn’t scared. Truly.

Her legs just moved on their own.

After that chaos, they quickly arrived at the academy.

The location was remote, but that had its advantages. Qilin Hall had been given a vast territory—mountains, water, bamboo forests—like a secluded paradise—

Luan Ling nearly had a heart attack when she saw the headless man standing at the door of a thatched hut.

She swore that if her divine power were still intact, that guy would not be standing there alive.

“Why are you just standing there? Sleeping in broad daylight—what kind of example is that for your junior siblings?”

Before Luan Ling could recover, a young man with messy hair, one pant leg rolled up as if he’d just come from the fields, walked out of the bamboo grove carrying a hoe and a basket on his back.

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