While Feng Ping Lan and Conglong were heading back from the mortuary, somewhere in an urban district close to the residence, in a dark alleyway, an abnormal whirlwind blew past.
In the back alley of the bustling street was an old apartment building. Behind the enclosure around the corner, an old banyan tree poked its head out the walls, the thick aerial root concealing the shabby Japanese construction behind it like a curtain.
The evening wind blowing gently, the banyan tree’s fibrous roots swayed slightly, and, in the next moment, a snow-white figure appeared, standing within the overgrown courtyard for a long time.
He looked at that half-shut door, approaching slowly, then plucked a strand of his hair, blowing it forward.
The white strand of hair transformed into a wisp of smoke, slowly pulling into a much finer thread, winding around the entire remote building and digging into every hole.
The sound of metallic clanging rang out, informing the one outside of the trap planted within the house.
Dongya pushed the door open cautiously, the door letting out an ear-grinding creak. Sharp wind blades circulated around both his hands, waiting for action.
He stepped into the house, heading deep inside. Both sides of the narrow walkway had sliding doors, many holes on the paper walls, the dark hollow opening having a likeness to abstruse eyes that peeked at the snow-white intruder.
Although the house was old and run-down, there wasn’t a single trace of any insects or rats, just a dreadful stillness. There was an otherworldly evil object inhabiting this house, and the organisms of this world had instinctively avoided it.
This was the where the miemoshi who had sealed them off twelve years ago had departed for his next mission. The demon in this house had escaped after receiving wind of it, and had taciturnly returned to his old nest just recently. Demons were beings very attached to the past.
Swishh.
A slight sound came from the Japanese-style room behind him, and simultaneously, Dongya shot out his wind blades, shapeless arcs of the blades slicing the paper walls into half, sweeping into the room, leaving a gigantic crescent-shaped rift on the door.
But there wasn’t a single cry from being struck coming from within the room.
Dongya walked in, waving a hand, two sides of the dilapidated paper door toppling into the room. The room was completely empty.
He stared into the room for a moment, looking as if he was deep in thought, but in the next second he turned, the hidden double blades in his hands swinging and cutting down from both sides.
The offensive power of his swinging stopped abruptly after seeing the person behind him, but the force was so violent it was hard to withdraw. He instantly turned his wrist, drawing a half-circle in the air, then thrust into the walls.
“Good evening.” A charming voice rang out, “You seem to be in quite the mood for walks to an abandoned house in the middle of the night.”
Dongya’s hands were gripping onto his wind blades, both knives stuck on both sides of Byriel’s neck, close to slicing it by a few centimeters. The snow-white figure pushed against Byriel, just a few centimeters away from overlapping each other.
Byriel looked smilingly at Dongya, absolutely unmoved by the dangerous situation he was in.
Dongya did not smile, asking softly with slight exasperation, “What are you doing here?”
“That is what I’d like to ask you.” Byriel pointed at the wind blades by his neck with a smile, “Could you remove these first?”
Dongya collected his knives away, waiting for Byriel’s answer.
“Are you so dissatisfied with the cleanliness of the house, you came specially to this abandoned residence, just to enjoy the joys of cleaning?” Byriel caressed his neck with a mocking smile, as if he was appreciating the coolness that had brushed past his neck earlier.
Dongya turned his head away, “You shouldn’t have come, it’s dangerous—”
A heavy and brutal force crashed into him, whipping him into the walls. Then, a slender palm with distinct joints clapped abruptly on the surface of the all beside his face.
“If it isn’t dirty enough for you,” Byriel cracked his lips into a smile, his thumb caressing the snow-white cheek before him, “I can would be happy to help you dirty it. I’ll make it so filthy, it’ll take you an eternity to clean it.”
“Stop fooling around.” Dongya pushed Byriel away with a frown, but his wrist was captured instead. He spared Byriel a glance, the other still adorning a malicious smile. “…I’m merely here to investigate.”
“What are you investigating? The Gentleman Thief?” Byriel continued to interrogate, “I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about acting the part of a Summoner’s dog.”
The reason they had received the mission this time around was because Dongya had taken the initiative to request for it. He hadn’t given a reason, and besides, that fool Feng Ping Lan wouldn’t ask any further questions either, enthusiastically leading everyone to the mortuary.
On the surface, it seemed as if they had requested it on their own accord, but Shen Yang had only given them this mission, no other alternatives.
His comrades were all plain idiots, but he was not. He could tell that Dongya and Quetzal attached this silly mission with the utmost importance.
“What have you and Quetzal been doing behind our backs?”
“This is in order to exchange for information—”
“That hermaphrodite took your hair, in exchange for intelligence.” Byriel stroked behind Dongya’s ear, caressing the tail of his hair, sighing lightly in regret, “What else did they take away, and what did they give you, to make you so obedient?”
“Shen Yang has plenty of insider information, and is not completely part of the Association. Exchanging intelligence with them is far more effective than pursuing the investigation aimlessly by ourselves.” Dongya defended, “Besides, they are only a prisoner locked up in a cage, who holds absolutely no threat to us.”
“Did you know? I’d like to lock you up as well.” Byriel smiled brilliantly, the palm caressing Dongya’s neck spreading out, lightly clamping around the other’s throat, “Additionally, I am astonished by how vigorous you are. I was under the impression you were infatuated with the act of playing house, hehe.”
“I like it here.” Dongya slapped Byriel’s hand away, looking directly into Byriel’s eyes, “So I would like to find Prince Shuekan as soon as possible…”
Byriel raised his brows, puzzled. Just as he was about to ask further, a coarse chafing sound rang out from above.
Dongya and Byriel were too late to react, when black rope with sharp bristles scuttled out of the ground and ceiling at the same time, each and every section of steel rope looking as if it was covered in insect feet, the sharp prickly hair contaminated with a dark viscous liquid that declared its toxicity.
Byriel swung out his hand, a thousand bee stings accompanying a wave of his long whip to repel part of the black rope. However, more attacks shot over from all sides.
Dongya pulled Byriel behind him, simultaneously spreading a wind wall around them, cutting off the thorns that had rushed up to them. But more pointed rope came forth, as unceasing as dense rain.
Yet, in the next second, the black shadows on the walls and floor, like a soundless tide, surging out from the inner space, sweeping and dragging all the black rope into the shadows.
Snap!
The sound of broken brittle bone rang out.
A slender figure rolled up from the splendor of the crescent moon.
Quetzal looked at the two people within the house coldly, not saying anything about Byriel’s presence. As a lone operator, he paid it absolutely no mind. There wasn’t a need to justify your whereabouts to anyone else, even more so that he did not need to explain his motives to anyone.
The muddy green liquid had gotten onto his black figure, shining a slight fluorescence. That was a demon’s blood.
“Did he escape?” Dongya asked.
”Dead.” He answered in an ice-cold tone.
The demon’s original form was hidden on a nearby tree outside, the one inside the house was just a diversion. Earlier, because he had been driven into a tight spot, he had turned into the house, intending to attack Dongya and Byriel and use this opportunity to flee.
There were no opportunities to make such petty moves in front of Quetzal.
Besides, even if the other succeeded in harming or killing the people inside the house, this would not be enough to make him pause or be distracted.
Apart from Prince Shuekan, there was nothing else that could cause him to hesitate and stop.
Byriel smiled lightly, looking at Quetzal, “Alright, now can you tell me why you guys came to such a boring place for a tryst in the dead of the night, what did you benefit from it?”
“…The reason why the demon was able to escape was because the miemoshi was delayed by something else.” Quetzal spoke in a low voice, repeating the information the demon had spat out before his death, “According to him, when the miemoshi came out of the house we were sealed in, he was carrying a child fully drenched in blood…”
“A child?” Dongya was puzzled, “Was it Prince Shuekan?”
“I cannot be certain…” There was also the possibility it was the miemoshi’s cover-up.
At least, they were certain that Prince Shuekan was still in the miemoshi’s hands.
Why hadn’t the miemoshi killed them, and had merely sealed them off? Why did the miemoshi not seal off Prince Shuekan as well? What was his purpose?
It seemed as if they had gotten one step closer to the truth, but it had brought many more elusive questions with it.
*
Quetzal took refuge in the shadows, leaving the abandoned house on the outskirts.
When he returned to the snow-white residence in the mountainside, it was already two in the morning, rain spilling from the skies, causing the frigid night to become much more bone-chilling.
The shadow climbed upward along from the outer side of the house, reaching the third floor, slipping in through the half-opened window, then curled up from the floor, changing into human form.
As he stood up, a bloody scent drew his attention.
The smell was incredibly faint, just a small trace of blood, but to him, it was like a flame in the dark night, just a tiny bit, enough to become a lighthouse’s beacon.
For the scent of blood to emerge, at this time of day, caused him to be on his guard.
His silhouette seemed to drop into an abyss, falling back into the shadows, and, in the next moment, soared up from the floorboards of the room next door.
“Woah!”
A surprised cry rang out at the same time.
Quetzal turned around, freezing slightly.
Feng Ping Lan was only in his shorts, a fork in his hand, flustered as he looked at the uninvited guest who had abruptly arrived.
“Quetzal?”
Quetzal frowned slightly, feeling a little resentful at his own hasty negligence.
He looked coldly at Feng Ping Lan, and suddenly, he did not know how to open his mouth.
He had hurried over when he smelled the scent of blood. But Feng Ping Lan was fine. He did not know how he should respond to the circumstance before him.
There was absolutely no way in which he would admit, he had come here because he thought Feng Ping Lan had been involved in an accident.
Feng Ping Lan looked at Quetzal, who hadn’t yet uttered a single word, waving his hand curiously before him, “Quetzal?”
Quetzal spared the clothes on the bed a glance. Feng Ping Lan immediately understood, hurriedly picking up the clothes and placing them on.
Feng Ping Lan admired himself more and more. To have the ability to read Quetzal’s meaning without speech, their minds were totally in sync!
“Is this a night attack?” Feng Ping Lan tittered as he put on his clothes, “I didn’t think Quetzal would be so audacious! Actually, you don’t need to attack me at night, my room will be open for you at any time of the day! Hahahahaha!”
Quetzal paid Feng Ping Lan’s nonsense no mind. He still felt that his laughter and idiotic remarks were incredibly ear-grinding, and he did not know when it had started, but he was starting to think that those words were not as bothersome.
Feng Ping Lan was done putting on his clothes, picking up the fork he had placed on the bed. He realized that Quetzal was at that fork, and very voluntarily started to explain.
“Oh, I’m using this fork to open the iodine.” Feng Ping Lan took the iodine on the bedside cabinet offhandedly, digging out the triangle cone at the top of the bottle, directly revealing the bottle circular hole, “This has been unused for too long, the part at the opening dried up and clogged up the hole, so I got this fork to dig it up.” He paused a little, “By the way, I took off my clothes because they were soaked by the rain, not because I was doing some sort of weird play by myself! Hahahaha!”
Quetzal stared at Feng Ping Lan’s left palm, where a skin-colored plaster was stuck on it, a long plaster covering the wound in a precarious position.
The scent of blood had come from there.
Close at hand, the smell was much more pungent.
Quetzal looked at Feng Ping Lan’s hand, saying indifferently, “What injured it?”
The only source of blood in the house had come from Feng Ping Lan’s hand, so what was the appliance that had wounded him?
“Oh, I took a trip to Janus, I got injured there.”
“They hurt you?” Almost out of a subconscious reflex, Quetzal questioned closely.
This conjecture caused a perplexing flare of anger to rise up in his heart.
“No, I accidentally cut myself.” Feng Ping Lan did not speak of the actual reason he was injured, because he had already promised Shen Yang his silence. “In any case, I’m already injured, how about some dinner?”
He furtively gripped his fist tightly first, squeezing out blood from the wound that had congealed, then presented it before Quetzal.
Truthfully, when Shen Yang had brought forward the matter of taking his blood, he had injured his hand, and with it a trace of a deliberate mindset.
It was for this moment.
He knew Quetzal would not ask for fresh blood on his own initiative, even more so would he not injure him for blood. So he could only use little schemes such as this, creating opportunities for Quetzal to eat.
…It felt as if he was tricking a child who was a fussy eater into eating.
Feng Ping Lan couldn’t help but laugh inwardly.
His frosty purple eyes gazed at Feng Ping Lan’s palm.
In the next moment, a slender hand raised up, pale white finger extending gracefully to lightly touch the seeping wound. Pausing for a second, he slowly drew it, moving it before those thin unsmiling lips.
He reached out his tongue, licking lightly, then placed his hand down, withdrawing.
Feng Ping Lan couldn’t help but swallow, the tips of his ears reddening inexplicably.
The blood’s fragrance was as before, but Quetzal’s self-control was far superior than the past, and so he did not display an expression of thirst and indulgence, just the usual calm and cool-headedness.
He turned around to enter the shadows.
“…Be more cautious.”
Before his figure sank completely, a low voice rang out.
“What?” Was this a warning made out of concern?
Feng Ping Lan wanted to ask him further, but the arrogant silhouette had already vanished.
*
On Friday, the leading teams of the four schools arrived at Zephaniah. There were not many visitors, with around seven or so people from each school and mainly the teaching and administrative staff among them, the students only occupying one or two spots. They had entered Zephaniah as delegations from its sister schools, but did not capture too much attention. After all, there were quite a number of foreign students within the school, and so, everyone was used to seeing these outsiders.
However, there were still a few curious passersby or those up to no good who expressed a high interest in these honored guests.
“What a tender and beautiful guest.” Bai Li Rui stood by the windows of the walkway near the administrative building, looking at the distinguished guests walking into the administrative center in a line, his gaze circulating between a few female students, especially staring at two blonde girls with tall and slender figures. “I will entertain and cherish them to the best of my ability, like a feather quilt, warming them from the chilly nights…”
“You’ll only work as the mat to wipe the crap off their shoes.” Ivan placed his hands by the window, “Those two girls come from the Dmitri Institute of Vladivostok, Russia. To them, the water temperatures here are enough to play in bikinis.”
“You’re being really annoying.” Bai Li Rui glared at Ivan.
He had originally intended on finding only Feng Ping Lan to peep on them, but Ivan had overheard, so he could only bring the twins along.
Feng Ping Lan looked at the teams curiously. The administrative staff of the four schools wore formal suits and outfits, every one of them looking as if they worked in a first-rate law firm, no discrepancy to be found between them.
Of these people, which were Summoners, which were demons?
“Ivan, do you know them?”
Ivan humphed disapprovingly, “I guess.”
Bai Li Rui immediately turned his head, looking at Ivan seriously, “To be honest, I’ve always admired your bluntness. If it’s convenient, I would be very willing to entertain you and your distant friends with dinner, let you have the chance to reminisce on the old times, of course, that is if you are willing to leave halfway through the meal.”
Ivan rolled his eyes, “Knowing them does not mean we’re besties.”
“Oh…” Bai Li Rui looked at Ivan, suddenly coming to an understanding, “Could she be your ex?”
The hand propping up Ivan’s head slipped, he glared angrily at Bai Li Rui, “Definitely not!”
Among the ranks, a brown-haired boy in a black uniform suddenly turned his head, glancing at the third-floor classrooms.
Feng Ping Lan felt as if he was glancing in their direction.
“Li Rui, is he looking at us?”
“He’s probably sensing a threat.” Bai Li Rui extended a hand to comb his hair conceitedly.
“But if we were to compare appearances, Li Rui probably wouldn’t be a threat.” Feng Ping Lan looked at the other’s perfect facial features and outline, saying sincerely, “He’s really handsome.”
Bai Li Rui’s face darkened, “I thought we were comrades…”
“I wonder if the students from our sister schools will be assigned to our class.” Feng Ping Lan looked at the brown-haired boy below, and although he was unsure if the other was looking at them, he still cracked his mouth into a smile and waved amiably, then gave a peace sign.
“Stop acting like a tourist!” Ivan pressed Feng Ping Lan’s hand down, then glanced down loftily at the people below.
No reaction was given by the brown-haired boy below, who turned his head, and continued his footsteps after his team.
“What’s wrong?” A tall and slender girl with long platinum hair spoke. “Why did you stop?”
“I now know why Daniel allows the commoners into his school,” The brown-haired boy replied indifferently. “There are quite a few asinine playthings among them.”
“Do not assume everyone is as vile as you, Gerard.”
“Likewise, Elvira.” The boy turned his head, unconcerned as he gave the person on the third floor a glance, the corners of his lips curling inconspicuously into a tyrannical cold smile.
*
The midday bell rang, announcing the lunch break.
Most of the students got up, exiting the classroom to head for the dining hall to forage, or to their club rooms to make preparations for their activities. Only a few students remained in the classroom.
Zong Yu was one of them. He left his seat very rarely, guarding the corner of the classroom with his hill-like body.
He liked to snuggle in his seat as he drew; he drew in class, he drew after class. His sketchbook was used up rapidly, and he had to switch to a new one every couple of days, filling his sketchbook with ideas, his delusions. On paper, he conducted various feasible and infeasible designs and experiments.
“Xiao— Yu— Er~”
Zong Yu felt someone poke his back, a familiar voice ringing out behind him.
He furrowed his brows, feeling slightly unhappy about being interrupted from his creative work.
Lately, he had been frequently disturbed, disturbed by an unfathomable and dubious guy. He had many ideas still in his head, yet to be concretized. This was not a good thing.
“Have you eaten lunch?” Feng Ping Lan asked smilingly.
Zong Yu shook his head.
“I see, then, why don’t we eat together?”
Zong Yu shook his head once again, “Do you need something?”
“Oh, I actually wanted you to help me with something.” Feng Ping Lan said as he placed a paper bag before Zong Yu.
Zong Yu opened the paper bag, where a flower and a piece of card was placed in it.
He frowned, glancing at Feng Ping Lan in bewilderment.
“What does this mean?” He had never received any flowers nor cards from anyone before this, and from a guy too.
“Oh, I wanted to ask you to place a tracking spell.” Feng Ping Lan explained, “I want you to find someone, these are the things he left behind.”
Zong Yu drew out the card, looking at the words written on them, raising his eyebrows, “I can tell you without placing the spell, the person you are looking for is sitting in the sixth seat of the second row.”
That was Bai Li Rui’s seat.
“You’ve got it wrong, that wasn’t left behind by Li Rui.” Feng Ping Lan smiled, saying, “This was left behind by the Gentleman Thief.”
“You haven’t resolved that case?” Feng Ping Lan had mentioned this particular mission to them, but as it was a D-ranked mission that lacked any challenge, the other members of the Society Research Club had not taken the initiative to participate in it.
“Mm, we got into a little mishap, to put it simply, we let him escape.” Feng Ping Lan scratched his head, giving a forced laugh, “We can only rely on you to find his whereabouts! Xiao Yu-er!”
Zong Yu looked at Feng Ping Lan, about to refuse this troublesome matter, but for some reason, the words that came out of his mouth was entirely the opposite, “…I’ll hand it to you tomorrow…”
“Thanks!”
“Notify me when you catch him, I’d like to examine his brain…”
“You can’t! The mission states he’s wanted alive, Xiao Yu-er is really naughty!”
Zong Yu placed the flower and card back into the paper bag, stuffing the paper bag under his desk. He then took up his pencil to continue drawing, no longer paying attention to Feng Ping Lan.
A second later, his face was poked again by someone.
Zong Yu paused in his drawing, “Is there anything else?”
“Here, you can eat this.” Feng Ping Lan drew out a bag of haw flakes from his pocket, placing it before Zong Yu. “I won’t disturb you anymore!” Saying this, he turned to meet up with the others, heading to the dining hall below the dormitories with them.
Zong Yu looked at the haw flakes on the desk, and after hesitating for a moment, tore one open, throwing them into his mouth. He could not taste anything, but he could feel the warmth spreading onto his tongue, the warmth the haw flakes had collected after being placed in Feng Ping Lan’s pocket for an entire day.
The Zong family’s esoteric tracing spell had actually been exchanged for six packets of haw flakes…
Zong Yu couldn’t help but let out a light laugh of self-mocking.
If the elders knew of this, they would definitely fly into a great rage, heehee.
*
Evening, Shadow Academy classes.
The first period was Yin Su Shuang’s class, and after drifting through their work schedule at top speeds within twenty-five minutes, the next period was used to discuss the school festival.
As the ones having the leading role were the students, he did not plan on meddling in their affairs, and so he gave total authority to the class representative, silently retreating to the side himself.
“I hope we’ll achieve progress to some extent today.” Liu Yi Chen walked onto the lectern, picking up the storage box, inhaling deeply, then overturned the box. She anticipated ideas pouring down in torrents like snowflakes in winter, but all that fell out was a few pieces of paper.
At least it wasn’t nothing. Perhaps there were a few brilliant suggestions among them…
“Performance team: A Hamlet play.” Liu Yi Chen nodded her head, “Not bad, an exceptionally classic play, only that the renting of the costumes will be a little troublesome, but I assume our classmate Renier might be able to help us solve this little problem.”
“I can’t do it.” Renier rebuffed flatly.
“You can’t do it?” Liu Yi Chen raised her eyebrows, “If I remember correctly, you came into the world from the same birth canal as the Drama Research Club’s president.”
“I just don’t want to gain benefits through nepotism.” Renier humphed haughtily.
“Don’t give me that, don’t think none of us know what you do by frequently borrowing from the Drama Research’s warehouse.” Liu Yi Chen humphed coldly. “The next time you go on a lovers’ rendezvous, please be mindful of any club members your sister leaves behind to do the manual work.”
Renier’s complexion changed abruptly, his bluster vanishing in an instant. He was silent for a moment, then spoke helplessly, “…Even if I was willing, I wouldn’t be able to help.”
“What do you mean?”
“She hasn’t been in a good mood recently…”
“Then ask for her permission seven days from now.” After all, it was fine as long as they could get their hands on the costumes before the performance.
“That’s not it.” Renier coughed awkwardly, “She broke up with Jason.” Jason was the vice-president of the Fencing Club, as well as a good partner of Renier’s.
Liu Yi Chen’s brows furrowed, “Tsk, this woman really knows how to cause trouble…”
Renier shrugged, expressing that his hands were tied.
Liu Yi Chen ripped open the second slip of paper, which had no signature on it.
“Vendor stall team: Wine tasting party, beer carousing competition…”
When she finished reading it, the gazes of Feng Ping Lan and the others switched in Simo’s direction at the same time. Simo was sitting with a very upright posture, looking as if she was participating in the discussion with extraordinary seriousness. Although she tried her best to act as if nothing had happened, it was all in vain.
“Um, we’re not allowed to sell alcoholic beverages within the school compound, and besides, underage students can’t drink.” Feng Ping Lan reminded her quietly.
“Why are you saying this to me…” Simo defended herself quietly, “I’m not sure what you mean…” But there was an evident hint of disappointment in her tone.
“Vendor stall team: Pet supplies store. Performance team: Pet exposition (limited to cats only).” Liu Yi Chen read, glancing at Morris. Presently, Morris was unusually focused in studying the patterns of his desk.
Liu Yi Chen immediately rolled the piece of paper into a ball, throwing in onto the tabletop.
Morris questioned agitatedly, “Why did you crumple it! Did you receive any complaints from everyone else?”
“Oh? Were you participating in the discussion? And here I thought you were too busy undressing the desk with your eyes.” Liu Yi Chen glared at Morris, then faced the others, “Please give serious consideration for the benefit of our class, do not be brought in by your personal hobbies.”
She continued to open the remaining slips of paper, reading them out loud one after another.
“Vendor stall team: Maid cafe.”
“Performance team: Pole-dancing show.”
A few students snickered underneath, but, after seeing Liu Yi Chen’s vicious expression, tactfully shut up. Yin Su Shuang, who sat observing in the corner also had his complexion darken somewhat.
“Are you guys really taking this seriously?” Liu Yi Chen questioned loudly.
“Um,” Feng Ping Lan raised his hand, “A majority of our ideas have been taken by the other classes. Regardless of the performance or vendor stall teams, we lack the manpower and time, so if we were to do the same thing, we would never be able to win against the class that specialized in one project, that’s why we don’t know what else we could do.”
The other students chimed in in agreement.
Liu Yi Chen sighed, “That’s true.”
“Both the vendor stall and performance are all point-based competitions, with the vendor stalls competing for revenue, the performances competing for the scores based on the student’s votes. There aren’t too many differences between the things a vendor stall can sell, so our revenue shouldn’t differ too much. It would be better to place our focus on the performance team, this way we can go head to head against them with our acting.” Feng Ping Lan continued to suggest.
“The classes in charge of the performances are bound to vote for themselves. If we were really to set first place as our goal, we’ll have to place the focus on the vendor stall classes and external students.” Liu Yi Chen added.
Feng Ping Lan nodded his head, “It would be best if our play was something clear and easily understood, and had an element that could attract enough attention…” He scratched his head in embarrassment, “But I’m not quite sure what could attract their attention.”
The students from the four schools had differing upbringings and backgrounds, with different cultures, and varying tastes, they were sure to fail if they took this into consideration.
Was there anything universally applicable, anything that could garner everyone’s interest?
Liu Yi Chen lowered her head, the entire class descending into a deep contemplation.
Fragments of light flashed under the podium, Liu Yi Chen lifted her head to see Byriel absent-mindedly playing with a hair piece embellished with rhinestones.
Liu Yi Chen stared blankly for a second, asking, “Where did you get that?”
“From a new friend of mine who left it on me and forgot to take away.” Byriel used his forefinger to swing it around, then casually placed it on the desk.
“That seems to be something belonging to the Californian Arborvitae Academy’s student representative.” Liu Yi Chen raised her eyebrows to question. “I am very curious about what sort of exchange you had with her, to be able to result in her hair piece falling into your hands.”
She was one of Zephaniah’s student receptionists. Earlier this morning, she had seen the female student from Arborvitae Academy wearing that hair piece in the VIP lounge, the resplendent gems contrasting with that silk-like maroon hair that was as captivating as honey.
“Oh, so she was a student from the other schools, that’s why her uniform was different.” Byriel smiled, lightly rapping his knuckles against the hairpiece, “However, to return politeness for politeness, I did leave a few things with her.”
“What, the herpes virus?” Liu Yi Chen said exasperatedly, “Please pretend to have some sort of moral conscience once in a while…” Overcoming the representatives from their sister schools in just one day, his actions were just too quick—
Wait.
A lightbulb suddenly lit up in Liu Yi Chen’s head, she widened her eyes, looking at Byriel in pleasant surprise, following which the corners of her lips gradually lifted up.
Byriel was astonished, responding with a brilliant smile, “What, would you like to exchange presents with me as well?”
Liu Yi Chen slammed her hands against the table, making everyone in the classroom jump.
“I’ve got it!” Liu Yi Chen announced confidently, “For the school festival’s performance, we’ll go with this—”
She turned, taking up the chalk, quickly writing onto the blackboard, each and every stroking striking a resonant sound on the board.
Liu Yi Chen wrote down the last word, flinging the chalk back onto the board, and stood to the side.
Everyone could clearly see the words on the blackboard.
“The Mermaid Prince?”
“Exactly!” Liu Yi Chen explained, “We’ll reverse the story of the mermaid princess, turning all the female mermaids to male!”
“Isn’t that a little too childish?” Renier retorted, “How could this possibly attract the audience?”
“The ones acting as mermen will have their upper half exposed, their lower half wearing briefs, using body painting to draw on their fish scales.” Liu Yi Chen’s lips twisted up, raising her hand to point at Morris, Dongya, Kaido, Ivan, Igor, Renier, and a few other male students, “These few have to act as the mermen. As for the leading role of the mermaid prince,” A slender finger was pointed at Byriel at last, “You. If there are no objections, clap your hands.”
Deafening applause sounded out like a firecracker, all of the female students clapping their hands with all their might.
“Just wait a minute—” A few male students cried out discontentedly, seeming to have some complaints about this decision.
Liu Yi Chen did not give them the time to speak, and continued to announce, “The sea witch’s subordinates and princess saved by the mermaid prince will wear swimsuits onto the stage,” Liu Yi Chen pointed at Simo, Tan Hua, Su Li Wan, and a few other female students, “With these girls acting, any objections?”
Jubilant shouts rang out, the male students nodding their heads madly, like mobilized wood chippers.
“I’ll assign the tentative jobs for other work details first, and we can make adjustments if you have any other ideas.” Liu Yi Chen cracked her lips into a smile, “We’ve finally achieved some progress.”
Shadow 1A’s theatrical performance had been given the final verdict.
While Feng Ping Lan and Conglong were heading back from the mortuary, somewhere in an urban district close to the residence, in a dark alleyway, an abnormal whirlwind blew past.
In the back alley of the bustling street was an old apartment building. Behind the enclosure around the corner, an old banyan tree poked its head out the walls, the thick aerial root concealing the shabby Japanese construction behind it like a curtain.
The evening wind blowing gently, the banyan tree’s fibrous roots swayed slightly, and, in the next moment, a snow-white figure appeared, standing within the overgrown courtyard for a long time.
He looked at that half-shut door, approaching slowly, then plucked a strand of his hair, blowing it forward.
The white strand of hair transformed into a wisp of smoke, slowly pulling into a much finer thread, winding around the entire remote building and digging into every hole.
The sound of metallic clanging rang out, informing the one outside of the trap planted within the house.
Dongya pushed the door open cautiously, the door letting out an ear-grinding creak. Sharp wind blades circulated around both his hands, waiting for action.
He stepped into the house, heading deep inside. Both sides of the narrow walkway had sliding doors, many holes on the paper walls, the dark hollow opening having a likeness to abstruse eyes that peeked at the snow-white intruder.
Although the house was old and run-down, there wasn’t a single trace of any insects or rats, just a dreadful stillness. There was an otherworldly evil object inhabiting this house, and the organisms of this world had instinctively avoided it.
This was the where the miemoshi who had sealed them off twelve years ago had departed for his next mission. The demon in this house had escaped after receiving wind of it, and had taciturnly returned to his old nest just recently. Demons were beings very attached to the past.
Swishh.
A slight sound came from the Japanese-style room behind him, and simultaneously, Dongya shot out his wind blades, shapeless arcs of the blades slicing the paper walls into half, sweeping into the room, leaving a gigantic crescent-shaped rift on the door.
But there wasn’t a single cry from being struck coming from within the room.
Dongya walked in, waving a hand, two sides of the dilapidated paper door toppling into the room. The room was completely empty.
He stared into the room for a moment, looking as if he was deep in thought, but in the next second he turned, the hidden double blades in his hands swinging and cutting down from both sides.
The offensive power of his swinging stopped abruptly after seeing the person behind him, but the force was so violent it was hard to withdraw. He instantly turned his wrist, drawing a half-circle in the air, then thrust into the walls.
“Good evening.” A charming voice rang out, “You seem to be in quite the mood for walks to an abandoned house in the middle of the night.”
Dongya’s hands were gripping onto his wind blades, both knives stuck on both sides of Byriel’s neck, close to slicing it by a few centimeters. The snow-white figure pushed against Byriel, just a few centimeters away from overlapping each other.
Byriel looked smilingly at Dongya, absolutely unmoved by the dangerous situation he was in.
Dongya did not smile, asking softly with slight exasperation, “What are you doing here?”
“That is what I’d like to ask you.” Byriel pointed at the wind blades by his neck with a smile, “Could you remove these first?”
Dongya collected his knives away, waiting for Byriel’s answer.
“Are you so dissatisfied with the cleanliness of the house, you came specially to this abandoned residence, just to enjoy the joys of cleaning?” Byriel caressed his neck with a mocking smile, as if he was appreciating the coolness that had brushed past his neck earlier.
Dongya turned his head away, “You shouldn’t have come, it’s dangerous—”
A heavy and brutal force crashed into him, whipping him into the walls. Then, a slender palm with distinct joints clapped abruptly on the surface of the all beside his face.
“If it isn’t dirty enough for you,” Byriel cracked his lips into a smile, his thumb caressing the snow-white cheek before him, “I can would be happy to help you dirty it. I’ll make it so filthy, it’ll take you an eternity to clean it.”
“Stop fooling around.” Dongya pushed Byriel away with a frown, but his wrist was captured instead. He spared Byriel a glance, the other still adorning a malicious smile. “…I’m merely here to investigate.”
“What are you investigating? The Gentleman Thief?” Byriel continued to interrogate, “I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about acting the part of a Summoner’s dog.”
The reason they had received the mission this time around was because Dongya had taken the initiative to request for it. He hadn’t given a reason, and besides, that fool Feng Ping Lan wouldn’t ask any further questions either, enthusiastically leading everyone to the mortuary.
On the surface, it seemed as if they had requested it on their own accord, but Shen Yang had only given them this mission, no other alternatives.
His comrades were all plain idiots, but he was not. He could tell that Dongya and Quetzal attached this silly mission with the utmost importance.
“What have you and Quetzal been doing behind our backs?”
“This is in order to exchange for information—”
“That hermaphrodite took your hair, in exchange for intelligence.” Byriel stroked behind Dongya’s ear, caressing the tail of his hair, sighing lightly in regret, “What else did they take away, and what did they give you, to make you so obedient?”
“Shen Yang has plenty of insider information, and is not completely part of the Association. Exchanging intelligence with them is far more effective than pursuing the investigation aimlessly by ourselves.” Dongya defended, “Besides, they are only a prisoner locked up in a cage, who holds absolutely no threat to us.”
“Did you know? I’d like to lock you up as well.” Byriel smiled brilliantly, the palm caressing Dongya’s neck spreading out, lightly clamping around the other’s throat, “Additionally, I am astonished by how vigorous you are. I was under the impression you were infatuated with the act of playing house, hehe.”
“I like it here.” Dongya slapped Byriel’s hand away, looking directly into Byriel’s eyes, “So I would like to find Prince Shuekan as soon as possible…”
Byriel raised his brows, puzzled. Just as he was about to ask further, a coarse chafing sound rang out from above.
Dongya and Byriel were too late to react, when black rope with sharp bristles scuttled out of the ground and ceiling at the same time, each and every section of steel rope looking as if it was covered in insect feet, the sharp prickly hair contaminated with a dark viscous liquid that declared its toxicity.
Byriel swung out his hand, a thousand bee stings accompanying a wave of his long whip to repel part of the black rope. However, more attacks shot over from all sides.
Dongya pulled Byriel behind him, simultaneously spreading a wind wall around them, cutting off the thorns that had rushed up to them. But more pointed rope came forth, as unceasing as dense rain.
Yet, in the next second, the black shadows on the walls and floor, like a soundless tide, surging out from the inner space, sweeping and dragging all the black rope into the shadows.
Snap!
The sound of broken brittle bone rang out.
A slender figure rolled up from the splendor of the crescent moon.
Quetzal looked at the two people within the house coldly, not saying anything about Byriel’s presence. As a lone operator, he paid it absolutely no mind. There wasn’t a need to justify your whereabouts to anyone else, even more so that he did not need to explain his motives to anyone.
The muddy green liquid had gotten onto his black figure, shining a slight fluorescence. That was a demon’s blood.
“Did he escape?” Dongya asked.
”Dead.” He answered in an ice-cold tone.
The demon’s original form was hidden on a nearby tree outside, the one inside the house was just a diversion. Earlier, because he had been driven into a tight spot, he had turned into the house, intending to attack Dongya and Byriel and use this opportunity to flee.
There were no opportunities to make such petty moves in front of Quetzal.
Besides, even if the other succeeded in harming or killing the people inside the house, this would not be enough to make him pause or be distracted.
Apart from Prince Shuekan, there was nothing else that could cause him to hesitate and stop.
Byriel smiled lightly, looking at Quetzal, “Alright, now can you tell me why you guys came to such a boring place for a tryst in the dead of the night, what did you benefit from it?”
“…The reason why the demon was able to escape was because the miemoshi was delayed by something else.” Quetzal spoke in a low voice, repeating the information the demon had spat out before his death, “According to him, when the miemoshi came out of the house we were sealed in, he was carrying a child fully drenched in blood…”
“A child?” Dongya was puzzled, “Was it Prince Shuekan?”
“I cannot be certain…” There was also the possibility it was the miemoshi’s cover-up.
At least, they were certain that Prince Shuekan was still in the miemoshi’s hands.
Why hadn’t the miemoshi killed them, and had merely sealed them off? Why did the miemoshi not seal off Prince Shuekan as well? What was his purpose?
It seemed as if they had gotten one step closer to the truth, but it had brought many more elusive questions with it.
*
Quetzal took refuge in the shadows, leaving the abandoned house on the outskirts.
When he returned to the snow-white residence in the mountainside, it was already two in the morning, rain spilling from the skies, causing the frigid night to become much more bone-chilling.
The shadow climbed upward along from the outer side of the house, reaching the third floor, slipping in through the half-opened window, then curled up from the floor, changing into human form.
As he stood up, a bloody scent drew his attention.
The smell was incredibly faint, just a small trace of blood, but to him, it was like a flame in the dark night, just a tiny bit, enough to become a lighthouse’s beacon.
For the scent of blood to emerge, at this time of day, caused him to be on his guard.
His silhouette seemed to drop into an abyss, falling back into the shadows, and, in the next moment, soared up from the floorboards of the room next door.
“Woah!”
A surprised cry rang out at the same time.
Quetzal turned around, freezing slightly.
Feng Ping Lan was only in his shorts, a fork in his hand, flustered as he looked at the uninvited guest who had abruptly arrived.
“Quetzal?”
Quetzal frowned slightly, feeling a little resentful at his own hasty negligence.
He looked coldly at Feng Ping Lan, and suddenly, he did not know how to open his mouth.
He had hurried over when he smelled the scent of blood. But Feng Ping Lan was fine. He did not know how he should respond to the circumstance before him.
There was absolutely no way in which he would admit, he had come here because he thought Feng Ping Lan had been involved in an accident.
Feng Ping Lan looked at Quetzal, who hadn’t yet uttered a single word, waving his hand curiously before him, “Quetzal?”
Quetzal spared the clothes on the bed a glance. Feng Ping Lan immediately understood, hurriedly picking up the clothes and placing them on.
Feng Ping Lan admired himself more and more. To have the ability to read Quetzal’s meaning without speech, their minds were totally in sync!
“Is this a night attack?” Feng Ping Lan tittered as he put on his clothes, “I didn’t think Quetzal would be so audacious! Actually, you don’t need to attack me at night, my room will be open for you at any time of the day! Hahahahaha!”
Quetzal paid Feng Ping Lan’s nonsense no mind. He still felt that his laughter and idiotic remarks were incredibly ear-grinding, and he did not know when it had started, but he was starting to think that those words were not as bothersome.
Feng Ping Lan was done putting on his clothes, picking up the fork he had placed on the bed. He realized that Quetzal was at that fork, and very voluntarily started to explain.
“Oh, I’m using this fork to open the iodine.” Feng Ping Lan took the iodine on the bedside cabinet offhandedly, digging out the triangle cone at the top of the bottle, directly revealing the bottle circular hole, “This has been unused for too long, the part at the opening dried up and clogged up the hole, so I got this fork to dig it up.” He paused a little, “By the way, I took off my clothes because they were soaked by the rain, not because I was doing some sort of weird play by myself! Hahahaha!”
Quetzal stared at Feng Ping Lan’s left palm, where a skin-colored plaster was stuck on it, a long plaster covering the wound in a precarious position.
The scent of blood had come from there.
Close at hand, the smell was much more pungent.
Quetzal looked at Feng Ping Lan’s hand, saying indifferently, “What injured it?”
The only source of blood in the house had come from Feng Ping Lan’s hand, so what was the appliance that had wounded him?
“Oh, I took a trip to Janus, I got injured there.”
“They hurt you?” Almost out of a subconscious reflex, Quetzal questioned closely.
This conjecture caused a perplexing flare of anger to rise up in his heart.
“No, I accidentally cut myself.” Feng Ping Lan did not speak of the actual reason he was injured, because he had already promised Shen Yang his silence. “In any case, I’m already injured, how about some dinner?”
He furtively gripped his fist tightly first, squeezing out blood from the wound that had congealed, then presented it before Quetzal.
Truthfully, when Shen Yang had brought forward the matter of taking his blood, he had injured his hand, and with it a trace of a deliberate mindset.
It was for this moment.
He knew Quetzal would not ask for fresh blood on his own initiative, even more so would he not injure him for blood. So he could only use little schemes such as this, creating opportunities for Quetzal to eat.
…It felt as if he was tricking a child who was a fussy eater into eating.
Feng Ping Lan couldn’t help but laugh inwardly.
His frosty purple eyes gazed at Feng Ping Lan’s palm.
In the next moment, a slender hand raised up, pale white finger extending gracefully to lightly touch the seeping wound. Pausing for a second, he slowly drew it, moving it before those thin unsmiling lips.
He reached out his tongue, licking lightly, then placed his hand down, withdrawing.
Feng Ping Lan couldn’t help but swallow, the tips of his ears reddening inexplicably.
The blood’s fragrance was as before, but Quetzal’s self-control was far superior than the past, and so he did not display an expression of thirst and indulgence, just the usual calm and cool-headedness.
He turned around to enter the shadows.
“…Be more cautious.”
Before his figure sank completely, a low voice rang out.
“What?” Was this a warning made out of concern?
Feng Ping Lan wanted to ask him further, but the arrogant silhouette had already vanished.
*
On Friday, the leading teams of the four schools arrived at Zephaniah. There were not many visitors, with around seven or so people from each school and mainly the teaching and administrative staff among them, the students only occupying one or two spots. They had entered Zephaniah as delegations from its sister schools, but did not capture too much attention. After all, there were quite a number of foreign students within the school, and so, everyone was used to seeing these outsiders.
However, there were still a few curious passersby or those up to no good who expressed a high interest in these honored guests.
“What a tender and beautiful guest.” Bai Li Rui stood by the windows of the walkway near the administrative building, looking at the distinguished guests walking into the administrative center in a line, his gaze circulating between a few female students, especially staring at two blonde girls with tall and slender figures. “I will entertain and cherish them to the best of my ability, like a feather quilt, warming them from the chilly nights…”
“You’ll only work as the mat to wipe the crap off their shoes.” Ivan placed his hands by the window, “Those two girls come from the Dmitri Institute of Vladivostok, Russia. To them, the water temperatures here are enough to play in bikinis.”
“You’re being really annoying.” Bai Li Rui glared at Ivan.
He had originally intended on finding only Feng Ping Lan to peep on them, but Ivan had overheard, so he could only bring the twins along.
Feng Ping Lan looked at the teams curiously. The administrative staff of the four schools wore formal suits and outfits, every one of them looking as if they worked in a first-rate law firm, no discrepancy to be found between them.
Of these people, which were Summoners, which were demons?
“Ivan, do you know them?”
Ivan humphed disapprovingly, “I guess.”
Bai Li Rui immediately turned his head, looking at Ivan seriously, “To be honest, I’ve always admired your bluntness. If it’s convenient, I would be very willing to entertain you and your distant friends with dinner, let you have the chance to reminisce on the old times, of course, that is if you are willing to leave halfway through the meal.”
Ivan rolled his eyes, “Knowing them does not mean we’re besties.”
“Oh…” Bai Li Rui looked at Ivan, suddenly coming to an understanding, “Could she be your ex?”
The hand propping up Ivan’s head slipped, he glared angrily at Bai Li Rui, “Definitely not!”
Among the ranks, a brown-haired boy in a black uniform suddenly turned his head, glancing at the third-floor classrooms.
Feng Ping Lan felt as if he was glancing in their direction.
“Li Rui, is he looking at us?”
“He’s probably sensing a threat.” Bai Li Rui extended a hand to comb his hair conceitedly.
“But if we were to compare appearances, Li Rui probably wouldn’t be a threat.” Feng Ping Lan looked at the other’s perfect facial features and outline, saying sincerely, “He’s really handsome.”
Bai Li Rui’s face darkened, “I thought we were comrades…”
“I wonder if the students from our sister schools will be assigned to our class.” Feng Ping Lan looked at the brown-haired boy below, and although he was unsure if the other was looking at them, he still cracked his mouth into a smile and waved amiably, then gave a peace sign.
“Stop acting like a tourist!” Ivan pressed Feng Ping Lan’s hand down, then glanced down loftily at the people below.
No reaction was given by the brown-haired boy below, who turned his head, and continued his footsteps after his team.
“What’s wrong?” A tall and slender girl with long platinum hair spoke. “Why did you stop?”
“I now know why Daniel allows the commoners into his school,” The brown-haired boy replied indifferently. “There are quite a few asinine playthings among them.”
“Do not assume everyone is as vile as you, Gerard.”
“Likewise, Elvira.” The boy turned his head, unconcerned as he gave the person on the third floor a glance, the corners of his lips curling inconspicuously into a tyrannical cold smile.
*
The midday bell rang, announcing the lunch break.
Most of the students got up, exiting the classroom to head for the dining hall to forage, or to their club rooms to make preparations for their activities. Only a few students remained in the classroom.
Zong Yu was one of them. He left his seat very rarely, guarding the corner of the classroom with his hill-like body.
He liked to snuggle in his seat as he drew; he drew in class, he drew after class. His sketchbook was used up rapidly, and he had to switch to a new one every couple of days, filling his sketchbook with ideas, his delusions. On paper, he conducted various feasible and infeasible designs and experiments.
“Xiao— Yu— Er~”
Zong Yu felt someone poke his back, a familiar voice ringing out behind him.
He furrowed his brows, feeling slightly unhappy about being interrupted from his creative work.
Lately, he had been frequently disturbed, disturbed by an unfathomable and dubious guy. He had many ideas still in his head, yet to be concretized. This was not a good thing.
“Have you eaten lunch?” Feng Ping Lan asked smilingly.
Zong Yu shook his head.
“I see, then, why don’t we eat together?”
Zong Yu shook his head once again, “Do you need something?”
“Oh, I actually wanted you to help me with something.” Feng Ping Lan said as he placed a paper bag before Zong Yu.
Zong Yu opened the paper bag, where a flower and a piece of card was placed in it.
He frowned, glancing at Feng Ping Lan in bewilderment.
“What does this mean?” He had never received any flowers nor cards from anyone before this, and from a guy too.
“Oh, I wanted to ask you to place a tracking spell.” Feng Ping Lan explained, “I want you to find someone, these are the things he left behind.”
Zong Yu drew out the card, looking at the words written on them, raising his eyebrows, “I can tell you without placing the spell, the person you are looking for is sitting in the sixth seat of the second row.”
That was Bai Li Rui’s seat.
“You’ve got it wrong, that wasn’t left behind by Li Rui.” Feng Ping Lan smiled, saying, “This was left behind by the Gentleman Thief.”
“You haven’t resolved that case?” Feng Ping Lan had mentioned this particular mission to them, but as it was a D-ranked mission that lacked any challenge, the other members of the Society Research Club had not taken the initiative to participate in it.
“Mm, we got into a little mishap, to put it simply, we let him escape.” Feng Ping Lan scratched his head, giving a forced laugh, “We can only rely on you to find his whereabouts! Xiao Yu-er!”
Zong Yu looked at Feng Ping Lan, about to refuse this troublesome matter, but for some reason, the words that came out of his mouth was entirely the opposite, “…I’ll hand it to you tomorrow…”
“Thanks!”
“Notify me when you catch him, I’d like to examine his brain…”
“You can’t! The mission states he’s wanted alive, Xiao Yu-er is really naughty!”
Zong Yu placed the flower and card back into the paper bag, stuffing the paper bag under his desk. He then took up his pencil to continue drawing, no longer paying attention to Feng Ping Lan.
A second later, his face was poked again by someone.
Zong Yu paused in his drawing, “Is there anything else?”
“Here, you can eat this.” Feng Ping Lan drew out a bag of haw flakes from his pocket, placing it before Zong Yu. “I won’t disturb you anymore!” Saying this, he turned to meet up with the others, heading to the dining hall below the dormitories with them.
Zong Yu looked at the haw flakes on the desk, and after hesitating for a moment, tore one open, throwing them into his mouth. He could not taste anything, but he could feel the warmth spreading onto his tongue, the warmth the haw flakes had collected after being placed in Feng Ping Lan’s pocket for an entire day.
The Zong family’s esoteric tracing spell had actually been exchanged for six packets of haw flakes…
Zong Yu couldn’t help but let out a light laugh of self-mocking.
If the elders knew of this, they would definitely fly into a great rage, heehee.
*
Evening, Shadow Academy classes.
The first period was Yin Su Shuang’s class, and after drifting through their work schedule at top speeds within twenty-five minutes, the next period was used to discuss the school festival.
As the ones having the leading role were the students, he did not plan on meddling in their affairs, and so he gave total authority to the class representative, silently retreating to the side himself.
“I hope we’ll achieve progress to some extent today.” Liu Yi Chen walked onto the lectern, picking up the storage box, inhaling deeply, then overturned the box. She anticipated ideas pouring down in torrents like snowflakes in winter, but all that fell out was a few pieces of paper.
At least it wasn’t nothing. Perhaps there were a few brilliant suggestions among them…
“Performance team: A Hamlet play.” Liu Yi Chen nodded her head, “Not bad, an exceptionally classic play, only that the renting of the costumes will be a little troublesome, but I assume our classmate Renier might be able to help us solve this little problem.”
“I can’t do it.” Renier rebuffed flatly.
“You can’t do it?” Liu Yi Chen raised her eyebrows, “If I remember correctly, you came into the world from the same birth canal as the Drama Research Club’s president.”
“I just don’t want to gain benefits through nepotism.” Renier humphed haughtily.
“Don’t give me that, don’t think none of us know what you do by frequently borrowing from the Drama Research’s warehouse.” Liu Yi Chen humphed coldly. “The next time you go on a lovers’ rendezvous, please be mindful of any club members your sister leaves behind to do the manual work.”
Renier’s complexion changed abruptly, his bluster vanishing in an instant. He was silent for a moment, then spoke helplessly, “…Even if I was willing, I wouldn’t be able to help.”
“What do you mean?”
“She hasn’t been in a good mood recently…”
“Then ask for her permission seven days from now.” After all, it was fine as long as they could get their hands on the costumes before the performance.
“That’s not it.” Renier coughed awkwardly, “She broke up with Jason.” Jason was the vice-president of the Fencing Club, as well as a good partner of Renier’s.
Liu Yi Chen’s brows furrowed, “Tsk, this woman really knows how to cause trouble…”
Renier shrugged, expressing that his hands were tied.
Liu Yi Chen ripped open the second slip of paper, which had no signature on it.
“Vendor stall team: Wine tasting party, beer carousing competition…”
When she finished reading it, the gazes of Feng Ping Lan and the others switched in Simo’s direction at the same time. Simo was sitting with a very upright posture, looking as if she was participating in the discussion with extraordinary seriousness. Although she tried her best to act as if nothing had happened, it was all in vain.
“Um, we’re not allowed to sell alcoholic beverages within the school compound, and besides, underage students can’t drink.” Feng Ping Lan reminded her quietly.
“Why are you saying this to me…” Simo defended herself quietly, “I’m not sure what you mean…” But there was an evident hint of disappointment in her tone.
“Vendor stall team: Pet supplies store. Performance team: Pet exposition (limited to cats only).” Liu Yi Chen read, glancing at Morris. Presently, Morris was unusually focused in studying the patterns of his desk.
Liu Yi Chen immediately rolled the piece of paper into a ball, throwing in onto the tabletop.
Morris questioned agitatedly, “Why did you crumple it! Did you receive any complaints from everyone else?”
“Oh? Were you participating in the discussion? And here I thought you were too busy undressing the desk with your eyes.” Liu Yi Chen glared at Morris, then faced the others, “Please give serious consideration for the benefit of our class, do not be brought in by your personal hobbies.”
She continued to open the remaining slips of paper, reading them out loud one after another.
“Vendor stall team: Maid cafe.”
“Performance team: Pole-dancing show.”
A few students snickered underneath, but, after seeing Liu Yi Chen’s vicious expression, tactfully shut up. Yin Su Shuang, who sat observing in the corner also had his complexion darken somewhat.
“Are you guys really taking this seriously?” Liu Yi Chen questioned loudly.
“Um,” Feng Ping Lan raised his hand, “A majority of our ideas have been taken by the other classes. Regardless of the performance or vendor stall teams, we lack the manpower and time, so if we were to do the same thing, we would never be able to win against the class that specialized in one project, that’s why we don’t know what else we could do.”
The other students chimed in in agreement.
Liu Yi Chen sighed, “That’s true.”
“Both the vendor stall and performance are all point-based competitions, with the vendor stalls competing for revenue, the performances competing for the scores based on the student’s votes. There aren’t too many differences between the things a vendor stall can sell, so our revenue shouldn’t differ too much. It would be better to place our focus on the performance team, this way we can go head to head against them with our acting.” Feng Ping Lan continued to suggest.
“The classes in charge of the performances are bound to vote for themselves. If we were really to set first place as our goal, we’ll have to place the focus on the vendor stall classes and external students.” Liu Yi Chen added.
Feng Ping Lan nodded his head, “It would be best if our play was something clear and easily understood, and had an element that could attract enough attention…” He scratched his head in embarrassment, “But I’m not quite sure what could attract their attention.”
The students from the four schools had differing upbringings and backgrounds, with different cultures, and varying tastes, they were sure to fail if they took this into consideration.
Was there anything universally applicable, anything that could garner everyone’s interest?
Liu Yi Chen lowered her head, the entire class descending into a deep contemplation.
Fragments of light flashed under the podium, Liu Yi Chen lifted her head to see Byriel absent-mindedly playing with a hair piece embellished with rhinestones.
Liu Yi Chen stared blankly for a second, asking, “Where did you get that?”
“From a new friend of mine who left it on me and forgot to take away.” Byriel used his forefinger to swing it around, then casually placed it on the desk.
“That seems to be something belonging to the Californian Arborvitae Academy’s student representative.” Liu Yi Chen raised her eyebrows to question. “I am very curious about what sort of exchange you had with her, to be able to result in her hair piece falling into your hands.”
She was one of Zephaniah’s student receptionists. Earlier this morning, she had seen the female student from Arborvitae Academy wearing that hair piece in the VIP lounge, the resplendent gems contrasting with that silk-like maroon hair that was as captivating as honey.
“Oh, so she was a student from the other schools, that’s why her uniform was different.” Byriel smiled, lightly rapping his knuckles against the hairpiece, “However, to return politeness for politeness, I did leave a few things with her.”
“What, the herpes virus?” Liu Yi Chen said exasperatedly, “Please pretend to have some sort of moral conscience once in a while…” Overcoming the representatives from their sister schools in just one day, his actions were just too quick—
Wait.
A lightbulb suddenly lit up in Liu Yi Chen’s head, she widened her eyes, looking at Byriel in pleasant surprise, following which the corners of her lips gradually lifted up.
Byriel was astonished, responding with a brilliant smile, “What, would you like to exchange presents with me as well?”
Liu Yi Chen slammed her hands against the table, making everyone in the classroom jump.
“I’ve got it!” Liu Yi Chen announced confidently, “For the school festival’s performance, we’ll go with this—”
She turned, taking up the chalk, quickly writing onto the blackboard, each and every stroking striking a resonant sound on the board.
Liu Yi Chen wrote down the last word, flinging the chalk back onto the board, and stood to the side.
Everyone could clearly see the words on the blackboard.
“The Mermaid Prince?”
“Exactly!” Liu Yi Chen explained, “We’ll reverse the story of the mermaid princess, turning all the female mermaids to male!”
“Isn’t that a little too childish?” Renier retorted, “How could this possibly attract the audience?”
“The ones acting as mermen will have their upper half exposed, their lower half wearing briefs, using body painting to draw on their fish scales.” Liu Yi Chen’s lips twisted up, raising her hand to point at Morris, Dongya, Kaido, Ivan, Igor, Renier, and a few other male students, “These few have to act as the mermen. As for the leading role of the mermaid prince,” A slender finger was pointed at Byriel at last, “You. If there are no objections, clap your hands.”
Deafening applause sounded out like a firecracker, all of the female students clapping their hands with all their might.
“Just wait a minute—” A few male students cried out discontentedly, seeming to have some complaints about this decision.
Liu Yi Chen did not give them the time to speak, and continued to announce, “The sea witch’s subordinates and princess saved by the mermaid prince will wear swimsuits onto the stage,” Liu Yi Chen pointed at Simo, Tan Hua, Su Li Wan, and a few other female students, “With these girls acting, any objections?”
Jubilant shouts rang out, the male students nodding their heads madly, like mobilized wood chippers.
“I’ll assign the tentative jobs for other work details first, and we can make adjustments if you have any other ideas.” Liu Yi Chen cracked her lips into a smile, “We’ve finally achieved some progress.”
Shadow 1A’s theatrical performance had been given the final verdict.
