“I only came here by accident.”

 

The fairy explained gratefully, “I originally intended to go to the banks of the Heavenly River, but halfway there I suddenly felt drained of strength and ended up falling onto this mountain.”

 

“You’re carrying a child—of course your immortal body would tire more easily. Which immortal lord was so irresponsible toward you?”

 

Dugu was mild-tempered, but as Wen Yuan’s student and a healer at heart, he couldn’t stand to see immortals mistreat their own bodies.

 

“It was my own decision,” the fairy said shyly with a smile. “He descended to the mortal realm and lost much of his vital energy, so I took it upon myself to gather some immortal herbs to help restore his spiritual power.”

 

Ah… how rare. Even here, one could still encounter such calm and happy immortal partners.

 

Luan Ling felt a gentle warmth spread through her chest. She truly hoped that all those resentful couples would eventually become loving companions, so she—this gossip-loving immortal—could enjoy some wholesome, all-natural sweetness.

 

“Actually, for something as simple as gathering herbs, you could commission our Qilin Hall Service Office,” Dugu said, helping the fairy to her feet, looking very much like a seasoned salesman.

 

“Errands, substitute labor, heaven above or earth below—we can do it all! As long as you can think of it, the Qilin Hall Service Office can deliver! Absolutely honest and reliable! Your perfect partner for household needs, mortal-world errands, demon hunting and—”

 

Wait, demon hunting is one thing, but slaying immortals? Master, are you trying to get yourself killed?!

 

With an enthusiastic expression, Dugu waved his hand in front of the fairy. “This is our service hotline. Feel free to contact us if you need anything.”

 

Luan Ling hadn’t expected the “Qilin Hall Service Office” written on the form to mean this. They were supposed to be the future stars of the Heavenly Realm—yet here they were, running errands for their teacher?

 

The senior disciple escorted the fairy away. They still had trees to chop. Luan Ling looked at Dugu and finally voiced her question.

 

“Sir, why did we even establish this service office?”

 

Dugu cleared his throat, his expression grave. “The hands-on ability of the new generation in the Heavenly Realm is declining. Their foundational skills are far inferior to those of students from my era. To reverse this worsening trend, I established the office to reinforce spellwork through extensive practical experience. This is the only way for you to be reborn from the chaos!”

 

“…Speak human.”

 

“We’re short on money.”

 

Luan Ling fell silent.

 

“Why are we short on money? The headmaster wouldn’t dock the academy’s monthly stipend, right?”

 

“He wouldn’t,” Dugu sighed. “But to be honest, our academy emphasizes practice. It’s easy to obtain immortal plants and spirit stones, but experimentation burns money. Without results, it’s like pouring resources into a bottomless pit.”

 

“…I have a question. Teacher, what exactly is your research field?”

 

Dugu immediately straightened, pride written all over his face.

 

“Luck!”

 

Luan Ling closed her eyes. She should’ve stayed at the foot of the mountain—she had no business being on it.

 

Was it still possible to transfer academies?

 

Luck, in immortal circles, was pure metaphysics. And yet Dugu wanted to turn theory into practice. She felt her future was long, dark, and hopeless.

 

So Luan Ling chose to continue practicing divine power control through lumber work.

 

The model Si Zhuo was building grew increasingly complex—pavilions, towers, walls, winding corridors, layered beautifully. Luan Ling couldn’t think of an appropriate poem to describe it, but one word was certain:

 

Expensive.

 

Designing was bliss. Construction was hell.

 

With trembling hands, Luan Ling used her now-familiar summoning technique to transport the last batch of wood down the mountain.

 

“It’s almost dark,” she sighed, gazing up at the star-filled sky. “Do you think we’ll get to stay in a royal villa tonight?”

 

“Don’t worry,” Si Zhuo said with a smile, surveying the garden. “That’s absolutely impossible.”

 

Don’t say such cruel things with such a kind face!

 

Immortals didn’t need to eat—they could sustain themselves on the essence of the sun and moon—but they couldn’t go without rest. Even machines broke down if they ran nonstop. For better cultivation, rest was essential.

 

“Stop dreaming. Let’s move bricks first,” Si Zhuo said as he walked toward Dugu. “Worst case, we meditate all night.”

 

What?! Coming from you, the guy who blew up a school—don’t you feel even a little guilty?!

 

Meditation sounded nice—preserving energy while improving cultivation—but in reality, it was the most tedious form of book-cramming. For restless juniors like them, meditation was basically a creative form of self-hypnosis.

 

That’s why Luan Ling truly admired Second Senior Sister. To avoid sleeping in Dugu’s self-built grass hut, she was willing to study all night. Truly a role model.

 

“Move bricks! Move bricks!” Dugu shouted from afar. “Once we’re done, I’ll treat everyone to a meal at the cafeteria—a celebration!”

 

Students weren’t allowed to leave the academy freely, so fetching bricks and tiles fell to Dugu alone. It was a massive undertaking, made harder by the need to avoid Heavenly Guards.

 

“Sir… doesn’t this count as stealing?” Li Xiao asked nervously while efficiently transporting bricks.

 

“Stealing… well, not stealing is impossible—no, wait! It’s not stealing. The infrastructure team was supposed to come anyway. This is self-reliance!”

 

More like self-inflicted consequences, honestly.

 

Li Xiao had no answer for this teacher. Before joining Qilin Hall, he’d been a diligent student in Thunder Hall—until complaints piled up because his nightmares scared people.

 

“Ahhh! We’re doomed! We’ve been spotted!” Dugu yelled, carrying a huge pile of bricks through a spatial rift, desperately trying to close it before the guards caught up.

 

“Ow!”

 

The portal closed—but his backside paid the price.

 

Seeing this, Zhu Yin hesitated, then pulled out her flute and improvised Ode to Chrysanthemums.

 

The ethereal melody quickly eased his pain, but Dugu wasn’t happy at all.

 

This was mortifying!

 

“Ahem. The Heavenly Guards are very dedicated. Everyone should respect their work,” Dugu said awkwardly, then waved his hand and sent the cafeteria’s location to them. “Let’s go—any later and it’ll close.”

 

“Use today’s newly learned teleportation technique. First one there gets to sleep in the grass hut tonight.”

 

The three disciples froze. Even Li Xiao hesitated.

 

“Fine, then the last one to arrive sleeps—”

 

Before he could finish, the lawn was completely empty.

 

Couldn’t you at least pretend to be polite?!

 

Dugu sighed sadly and walked into the cafeteria.

 

Their budget was limited. “Treating” everyone meant one bowl of rice per person, two small dishes, and a plate of peanuts.

 

Si Zhuo, raised in luxury, couldn’t tolerate this and stood up to order more food—only to be stopped by Luan Ling.

 

Was she kidding? If he ordered, would her hard-earned savings survive?

 

Gripping his wrist, Luan Ling smiled tightly and asked through clenched teeth, “What do you think you’re doing?”

 

“Ordering food,” Si Zhuo replied matter-of-factly.

 

“Oh, is that all?” Luan Ling slipped her money pouch back, pulled out a black-and-gold embroidered brocade pouch from her waist, smiled boldly, and declared, “Put it on me.”

 

Dugu nearly sprayed water everywhere.

 

Si Zhuo gave her a Are you insane? look, as if his eyes had been assaulted, then smoothly took back the pouch—which was originally his anyway.

 

He naturally didn’t understand Luan Ling’s odd sense of humor. Anyone who’d acted coy in front of him usually ended up kicked down to the mortal realm.

 

After ordering food, Si Zhuo turned around and noticed several people staring at him from a distance.

 

Uninterested, he looked away and was about to leave when a young man at the front spoke up.

 

“What, did you eat all your manners too? No greeting when you see someone—no upbringing at all, just like a wild child—”

 

Luan Yu stopped mid-sentence when he realized Luan Ling hadn’t responded coldly as usual. She’d simply walked past as if she hadn’t seen him.

 

His irritation flared into anger. He strode forward and blocked Si Zhuo.

 

“I’m asking you—do you even know the rules? No greeting at all. Aren’t you ashamed?”

 

Si Zhuo looked at him blankly. “Who are you?”

 

“Me?” Luan Yu scoffed. “You dare ask who I am? I’m the legitimate son of the Heavenly Emperor and Empress.”

 

…And?

 

Si Zhuo glanced at him and stepped to the right.

 

Luan Yu followed.

 

Left—Luan Yu blocked again.

 

“If you don’t show proper respect today, I won’t let you pass,” Luan Yu sneered. “Some bastard child born of a mistake. Father made one error, and you came along with it—now I have to correct you.”

 

Si Zhuo took a deep breath and looked up.

 

“Move.”

 

He wasn’t in the mood to waste time.

 

“Ha! Me, give way? Do you even understand your place?”

 

Si Zhuo gave him a look usually reserved for idiots. Arrogant fools existed everywhere—in all three realms.

 

“I’ll say it one last time. Move.”

 

“I won’t—ah!”

 

In the next instant, Luan Yu’s head was slammed onto a wooden table. He cried out in pain, too shocked to resist.

 

Before he could react, his knees were kicked out from under him, forcing him to kneel. Si Zhuo leaned down and whispered in his ear:

 

“I warned you.”

 

He then dragged Luan Yu’s head across the table and smashed him onto the floor. A loud crack echoed as his head hit the ground.

 

“Luan Yu!”

 

Si Zhuo didn’t stop. Channeling divine power into her fists, she delivered several precise, brutal blows to his face. When one of Luan Yu’s friends tried to intervene, she dodged instinctively—but her arm was slashed open.

 

She glanced at the horrifying wound on her slender arm, then looked coldly at her attacker.

 

Fights weren’t uncommon at the Heavenly Academy, but seeing someone beaten this brutally by pure physical strength was a first.

 

“You dare cause trouble in the cafeteria! The guards are coming—you’ll be punished!” the boy who’d ambushed her shouted, hesitating to help Luan Yu.

 

“Who’s causing trouble?!”

 

The clatter of armor rang out as the crowd parted for the Heavenly Guards.

 

“You’ll pay for this!” Cen Feng glared at Si Zhuo—only to see her suddenly collapse to the ground, flashing him an eerie smile.

 

Before he could understand, she spat out a mouthful of blood and fell backward, her face deathly pale.

 

The guards arrived just in time to witness the scene—it looked absolutely tragic.

 

Cen Feng froze, then hurried to help the battered Luan Yu and angrily accused, “She’s the one who caused all this!”

 

The guard looked at the unconscious, bloodied woman… then at Luan Yu, who was still moving.

 

Hmm…

 

This accusation didn’t seem very convincing.

 

“Excuse us!”

 

Two voices called out as the crowd was forcibly pushed aside.

 

Luan Ling emerged, saw Si Zhuo collapsed on the ground, and rushed forward calling his name. Zhu Yin quickly took out her flute, while Dugu handed prepared pills to Luan Ling—and then looked coldly at the people opposite them.