Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Warmth and Coldness of Human Relationships

Not much farther ahead, a grand structure reminiscent of a palace appeared, its entrance flanked by two massive pillars, each over two meters thick and more than ten meters tall—truly imposing. Even compared to the giant archway of the academy, it held its own in magnificence.

In the past, Ye Xin had never dared enter the Dragon Soaring Martial Academy. For one, he was too young, and for another, he simply lacked the courage. Although the previous Ye Xin was mischievous, he wasn’t a fool. He felt confident picking on kids his own age, but causing trouble at the Dragon Soaring Martial Academy would be sheer madness—any random student could have beaten him soundly. He couldn’t very well wave around a banner that read, “My father is Ye Guanhai”—that would be nothing but flaunting borrowed prestige, and a sure way to make trouble for his own family.

Gazing at the grand hall ahead, Ye Xin was inwardly awed. Such extravagance, just for an academy—was it really necessary?

Standing beneath the towering doors and looking up at the crossbeam more than ten meters above, he was suddenly struck by a sense of insignificance.

“Come on, brother,” Ye Ling called excitedly, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward.

Inside, the hall was unexpectedly vast—several thousand square meters at least. In the center was an open space, cordoned off with red hemp rope, likely a sparring area for the students. Near the entrance stood a raised platform, upon which more than twenty students sat cross-legged.

The temperature inside was frigid; Ye Xin could see his breath misting before him. He frowned, bent down, and touched the smooth stone floor with his fingertips. The stone was cold as ice.

“The whole hall is built of Cambrian stone,” Ye Ling explained. “It helps us resist the chill. Everyone unconsciously channels their vital energy to keep warm, which is good for our training.”

“All the classrooms here are like this?” Ye Xin asked in surprise.

“Of course not—there’s only one like this,” Ye Ling replied proudly. “Brother, you don’t know, at the end of every year the academy awards points. Only the camp with the highest contribution points gets to use this hall the following year.”

“So that means you’re the best?” Ye Xin laughed.

“We couldn’t have done it without Wen Rong,” Ye Ling admitted. “Even if we added up all our contribution points, it wouldn’t be as much as hers alone.”

“Next year, someone else will take our place,” Wen Rong said softly. “Right now, our camp’s contribution points are in the negative.”

“How did that happen?” Ye Xin asked.

“Let’s not talk about it,” Shen Miao suddenly interjected.

“What’s so hard to say?” Wen Rong smiled calmly. “The Wen family received a special mission from the clan. I used my family’s connections to secure it for the academy, but in the end… I failed.”

“So that’s why you have to marry Zong Yunjin?” Shao Xue shook her head. “Wen Rong, I hope you’re not offended, but it’s not worth it!”

“It’s not happening so quickly—the marriage still needs my family’s approval,” Wen Rong replied.

“But Zong Yunjin is already boasting everywhere that you’re his fiancée,” Shen Miao remarked. “The Third Prince, Tie Shudeng, hasn’t heard yet. When he finds out… who knows what chaos will follow.”

“Wen Rong, is there really no way to fix this?” Ye Ling asked.

“It’s highly unlikely,” Wen Rong said. “Unless we can earn three times last year’s contribution points in the next six months, there’s no way to make up for the clan’s losses.”

“What does Master Wen mean by this?” Shao Xue queried.

“You haven’t heard about the Wen family?” Shen Miao curled her lip. “Old Master Wen calls the shots. Master Wen was a collateral relative, but after Wen Rong made her mark, he gained the old man’s favor. From what I know, Old Master Wen is quite fond of Zong Yunjin. The marriage is practically set in stone.”

“Wen Rong, the selection is coming up soon. You’re the academy’s best hope for joining the sect. Isn’t it a waste to settle your marriage now?” Shao Xue sighed. “Wait until you’ve entered the sect—there’ll be time enough for such things.”

“I owe the clan,” Wen Rong said quietly.

At that moment, a few students stood and called out to Wen Rong, “Camp leader, you’re here!”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Wen Rong said, nodding to the students as she made her way to the platform.

Ye Ling, Ye Xin, and the others followed. Ye Xin glanced around—the platform held over twenty students, but fewer than a third stood to greet Wen Rong. If she was their leader, this seemed odd.

The platform was strewn with round cushions, spaced about two meters apart. Wen Rong calmly took her seat on one.

“Ungrateful wretches, every last one,” Shao Xue sneered. “Last year Wen Rong earned so many points, and we got to train in the Cambrian Hall. Everyone fawned over her, calling her ‘big sister Wen.’ Now, just one failure and they all turn their backs?”

“Enough, Shao Xue!” Wen Rong glared at her.

“Worried I’ll offend someone? Well, I can’t stand hypocrisy,” Shao Xue scoffed again. “Besides, people who only cling to advantage and abandon you when it’s gone rarely amount to much. Why should I care?”

“I love you most at times like this, Shao Xue—it’s so satisfying!” Shen Miao said with a grin. “There’s a saying: a small favor breeds gratitude, a great one breeds resentment. No one expected Wen Rong to secure the Cambrian Hall last year. The unexpected boon delighted everyone, but after half a year of training and the benefits that brought, they started to feel entitled to it. Now that Wen Rong has faltered and cost them, of course they’re resentful.”

“If this goes on, our Fifth Camp will only grow more chaotic. In the end, who can escape the pull of self-interest?” Wen Rong sighed. “Let’s just have some peace.”

Before Shao Xue and Shen Miao could reply, a loud voice boomed from the hall entrance: “Well said!”

“Teacher Xie is here!”

“Hurry, everyone, take your seats!”

There was a commotion as the students scrambled to sit on their cushions. As a newcomer, Ye Xin was slow to react, and by the time he moved to find a place, there was no cushion left for him.

“Brother, sit with me,” Ye Ling whispered, shifting to make room on her cushion.

Ye Xin sat down beside her. A young man in a long blue robe ascended the platform. He looked to be about twenty-two or twenty-three, only a few years older than the students, but every one of them gazed at him with respect—even Wen Rong and her companions.

“Greetings, students,” the young man called, waving cheerfully as he walked.

“Greetings, teacher,” the students chorused, rising as one—except for Ye Xin, who glared fiercely at the young man.

“You’ve all worked hard,” the teacher said, clearly savoring the moment, his head bobbing with pleasure. He didn’t seem to notice Ye Xin’s glare, and held a teacup steady in his hand. Oddly, though he walked briskly, not a drop of tea spilled, as if it were frozen in place.

“Thank you for your hard work, teacher!” the students replied again.

“Brother Xie, must we go through this every time? Up and down, up and down—it’s such a bother. No other teacher puts us through this,” Shen Miao teased, her tone and expression suggesting a close relationship with the teacher.

“Call me ‘teacher’!” the young man snapped, feigning sternness. “You don’t understand. Years ago, a real monster used to put me through the same routine. If I don’t make you suffer a little, I’ll never feel satisfied…”

“What do you mean by ‘monster’?” Shen Miao asked, unafraid.

“A mix of bastard, pervert, maniac, sadist, and nutcase, that’s—” The young man cut off mid-sentence, suddenly sensing something. His gaze shifted toward Ye Ling, and his expression changed dramatically. He froze for a moment, then abruptly turned to leave, nearly spilling his tea.

He’d barely taken a few steps when he stopped, frowning in thought. Slowly, a smile curled across his lips, growing broader and broader until he was doubled over with laughter.

“What’s wrong with Teacher Xie?” a student wondered aloud.

“No idea. Maybe something rattled him…” another murmured.

“I’ve heard Teacher Xie call us ‘nutcases’ many times when he’s scolding us, but what does it mean, really?” Ye Ling turned to Ye Xin. “Brother, you’ve traveled—do you know?”

“It’s a dialect expression,” Shen Miao answered confidently. “It basically means your brain’s not quite right.”

At that moment, the young man’s gaze fell on Ye Xin. Smiling, he said, “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before, have I?”

“Teacher Xie, this is my brother Ye Xin. He just joined the Dragon Soaring Martial Academy today,” Ye Ling said quickly, standing up. “Here’s the letter of introduction signed by Director Feng.” She took an envelope from her belt and reached to tug Ye Xin forward.

Ye Xin brushed her hand aside and gave the teacher a sidelong look.

“Why do I suddenly feel a little nervous… my poor heart…” muttered the young man, clutching his chest dramatically. “No need to show me the letter. I know our gentle, beautiful, lovely, gracious, elegant, noble, lively, and pure Miss Ye would never deceive me.”

“Wha… what…” Ye Ling was left speechless by the barrage of compliments.

“All right, you can sit down,” the young man said, motioning for her to take her seat. Then he continued, “Where were we? Ah, yes—I can see that quite a few of you harbor resentment toward Wen Rong, don’t you?”

No one answered, but glances flickered from face to face.

“At least half of you will one day seek your fortune on the battlefield. With this kind of character, you’ll never find true comrades,” the young man said gravely. “What does ‘brother-in-arms’ mean? It means not only trusting in your comrades’ abilities, but also forgiving their mistakes! If you can’t even manage that much, you’ll find yourselves isolated. I’d wager you won’t last a year.”