“My disciple has always been in poor health. She was injured not long ago, and she’s gentle and kind by nature—she’s never wronged anyone. Which academy are you students from, to dare lay hands on such a frail young woman?”

 

As Zhu Yin’s tone shifted, the mournful, plaintive sound of the flute rose instantly, making the woman lying on the ground appear even more helpless and pitiful.

 

A frail young woman?!

 

Is your idea of “frail” someone who pins people down and beats their heads in?!

 

Cen Feng openly condemned his shameless act. “She was the one who struck first!”

 

No—wait, what “struck first”? She was the only one who struck anyone!

 

Luan Ling glanced at Dugou as well. She hadn’t realized she was supposed to look like that.

 

“What Mister Dugou says makes sense,” one of the guards said. Upon recognizing him, the guard’s posture stiffened, and he subconsciously took two steps back.

 

Although the younger generation at the academy wasn’t familiar with this newly arrived instructor, every celestial soldier who had survived real battles knew his name well.

 

And frankly, he was probably just as infamous in the Demon Realm.

 

“Since this is a conflict between students, let the instructors of each academy handle it themselves,” the guard said. The moment he finished speaking, he turned and fled at lightning speed.

 

If he stayed any longer, the year-end lottery prize might end up being nothing more than a sincere blessing from his superior!

 

Luan Ling watched the guards retreat in a panic, and only then did she realize that the person who’d been beaten looked oddly familiar.

 

The once dignified Second Prince of the Heavenly Realm now had a face covered in bruises and swelling—it was utterly miserable to behold.

 

Luan Ling frowned as she looked at him. The longer she stared, the more uncomfortable she felt. Seeing someone who used to look perfectly fine reduced to this state made her unable to hold back—

 

She burst out laughing.

 

She had dreamed of this scene before.

 

Seeing it in reality made her a little excited.

 

Cen Feng was still trying to process the guards’ sudden retreat. When he turned around and saw Luan Ling smiling brightly at them, he nearly exploded with rage.

 

That said, he did recognize her. She was the infamous great-granddaughter of the Dragon King—the true culprit behind the academy explosion. He’d been one of the unlucky students trying to salvage his homework that day. Thanks to her flames, an essay he’d worked on for an entire week had gone up in smoke.

 

By all rights, with old grudges and new piled together, he should have cursed her out on the spot. But the memory of that terrifying fire was still vivid. Compared to the woman lying on the ground, this person had left a far deeper impression on him.

 

Luan Ling, unaware that she’d just ridden someone else’s authority, felt delighted just looking at Luan Yu’s condition.

 

Sure, this might lead to endless trouble later—but honestly, beating him up felt so satisfying. Even if she hadn’t done it herself, she was still happy.

 

“I won’t pursue today’s matter any further,” Dugou said to Cen Feng. “Bullying a young girl until she’s in this state—your friend wouldn’t have an easy time explaining that if word got out.”

 

Luan Yu, who was just regaining consciousness, nearly passed out from anger again.

 

Who bullied whom?!

 

A young girl? Do you even know she’s a god?!

 

Luan Ling could only sigh inwardly. Dugou truly lived up to being Wen Yuan’s disciple—this level of shameless blame-shifting could only come so naturally from their school.

 

Some of the students who had witnessed the commotion felt that Dugou’s words were off, but when they looked at the unconscious woman on the ground, they also felt he wasn’t entirely wrong.

 

The truth was wrong—but so absurd that the person involved probably didn’t want to admit they’d been beaten.

 

And another thing—why was the background music getting sadder and sadder?!

 

For some reason, the more they listened, the more they felt like crying. Some of them even felt an urge to donate money to the woman lying there.

 

“Fine. Guess we’re unlucky,” Cen Feng said as he and his lackeys helped Luan Yu up. “But sir, justice lives in people’s hearts.”

 

“Justice does live in people’s hearts,” Li Xiao replied, unable to tolerate Cen Feng’s passive-aggressive tone. “Whoever provokes first is at fault.”

 

Though he didn’t know all the details, the fact that Luan Ling had resorted to such a self-damaging tactic meant it couldn’t have been without reason.

 

Zhu Yin lifted her gaze toward them, the flute music turning passionate and indignant.

 

Once they finally left, she stopped playing.

 

“All right, disperse,” Dugou waved at the onlookers. “Now is the best time to absorb moonlight.”

 

He had once studied general magic at Moonlight Hall and was thoroughly familiar with drawing in spiritual energy. For gods, moonlight was indispensable for cultivation.

 

“Sir, Junior Sister still hasn’t woken up,” Li Xiao said worriedly.

 

Dugou raised a hand and sighed. “Her old injuries haven’t healed, and her vital essence has been damaged. It’ll take a large amount of immortal herbs to replenish it. To be honest, this is the first time I’ve seen a god this fragile.”

 

He frowned thoughtfully. “Could it really be as she said—that she’s a—”

 

“She’s not. She didn’t. Don’t say nonsense,” Luan Ling interrupted him, looking up. If she didn’t stop him now, whatever little reputation she had left would be completely gone.

 

She scooped up her own body and walked past Dugou, her expression solemn. “Junior Sister is only like this because she encountered some… complications while trying to save the world.”

 

Save… the world?

 

Dugou froze. That was a bit beyond his comprehension.

 

What happened to the world now that it needed saving again?

 

Li Xiao watched Luan Ling’s retreating figure, then turned to Zhu Yin, who looked indifferent. “Second Senior Sister, don’t you think Third Junior Brother is a little different from the rumors?”

 

Surprisingly, Zhu Yin nodded.

 

In the past two months at the Heavenly Academy, no one hadn’t heard of the Dragon Clan’s little tyrant. If Kirin Hall weren’t so small and full of oddballs, it’d be hard to say whether the sect could even coexist peacefully.

 

“He doesn’t seem as immoral or wicked as the rumors say,” Li Xiao continued. “And he’s especially good to Junior Sister.”

 

He recalled the glowing pouch—and the obvious panic on Junior Brother’s face when the instructor said Junior Sister’s condition was dire.

 

Zhu Yin had her doubts too, but she wasn’t interested in gossip. Other people’s affairs didn’t matter much to her.

 

“Mind your own business.”

 

She left him with that and followed Dugou.

 

This conversation was exhausting.

 

Li Xiao felt drained.

 

In the end, the meal still wasn’t eaten properly.

 

Luan Ling looked at her body, which had collapsed twice in one day, and felt a little melancholy.

 

She used to be such a lively kid. How had she turned into such a sickly mess?

 

It all came back to the Heavenly Empress. She’d have to work harder—strive to become independent as soon as possible.

 

When she imagined herself after independence—stuffed with food and roaming freely across the Three Realms—she couldn’t help but feel excited.

 

“Your drool is about to drip.”

 

While she was lost in thought, the person lying down had woken up at some point. The first thing he saw was his own face shifting from sorrowful, to resolute, to gradually vacant.

 

“You—” Luan Ling was about to retort, but when she met Si Zhuo’s slightly darkened gaze, she immediately switched to a warm smile. “Don’t worry. How could I possibly do something that stupid with your body?”

 

A seasoned face-changer.

 

“Where are we?” Si Zhuo tried to sit up, but suddenly felt his blood surge. He instinctively clutched his chest—and froze when he felt an unfamiliar softness.

 

Luan Ling froze too, then reacted with a scream, frantically trying to pry his hand away.

 

“Ahhh! Let go!”

 

Si Zhuo was shaken until his head hurt. Combined with his poor condition, he couldn’t help coughing painfully.

 

The sound snapped Luan Ling back to her senses. She immediately steadied him, her voice anxious. “Are you okay? Does it hurt? Next time, just let me handle this kind of thing—you rest.”

 

Si Zhuo coughed until his cheeks turned red before finally calming down. Gritting his teeth, he said, “That way, I’m the one at a disadvantage.”

 

Luan Ling choked. Somehow, she felt like she was being led into a trap.

 

“At worst… we’re gods. We don’t need to eat or drink, so we can avoid awkward situations. We don’t even have to deal with menstru—”

 

Before she could finish, Si Zhuo grabbed her arm. Her nerves immediately went taut. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

 

Si Zhuo clutched his abdomen, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He was in too much pain to say a word.

 

Seeing his expression, Luan Ling thought of a possibility and stared in disbelief.

 

No way.

 

Did her mouth get magically blessed after slapping Dugou?

 

Si Zhuo turned onto his side, curling his body, doing his best to ease the pain in his lower abdomen.

 

He’d never hurt this badly—even in a fight.

 

“Deep breaths! We’re gods—this is something we can control!”

 

Luan Ling was at a loss. Gods could regulate their bodily functions, and with her excessive divine power, maintaining cellular vitality was trivial. Honestly, she herself had barely experienced this.

 

“…Useless.”

 

Trembling with pain, Si Zhuo barely forced out two words. What Dugou had taught them today simply wasn’t enough to solve this.

 

He tried using the healing spell he usually relied on in battle. Dragon Clan healing magic was naturally cool and soothing, like water—perfect for easing burning pain.

 

This time, the spell worked.

 

And he moved one step closer to death.

 

“Ah!”

 

Si Zhuo cried out in pain. Luan Ling had no idea what went wrong and could only encourage him. “Imagine your divine power flowing through your body—your heart, your lungs, even the organs you can’t name—all of them under your control…”

 

He’d grown up fighting in the Eastern Sea, specializing in outward release of divine power. Drawing it inward like this was his first serious attempt.

 

“How is it?” she asked anxiously.

 

Luan Ling stared at his profile—more accurately, at her own profile.

 

Without saying a word, Si Zhuo sat up. His bangs were soaked with sweat, and his clothes were in no better condition.

 

Luan Ling didn’t know how to comfort him. This kind of experience was surely a first in his life.

 

A once-in-a-lifetime first.

 

He silently climbed down from the makeshift wooden frame, didn’t bother asking where they were, turned toward a nearby pool—and dove straight in.

 

“Hey! Don’t do anything stupid! That’s my body!!”