Not a single frown creased her brow. She stroked the Little White Cat, then tugged a corner of the blanket over her with gentle care.
Night deepened. Two rhythmic breaths wove together in the room until they synced perfectly, impossible to tell apart.
Morning light found Meng Yiran on the big bed. She blinked in confusion for several long seconds, then fixed Tong Yuwu with bulging eyes—the gaze of one spotting a sanctimonious fraud.
Tong Yuwu opened her mouth, closed it again, and headed off to wash up.
By the time she returned, the Little White Cat had recalled how she’d been the one to strike first the night before. She burrowed deep under the covers and wouldn’t emerge no matter the coaxing. In the end, Tong Yuwu dragged her out by the hind legs. Meng Yiran twisted around to face away, gazing dramatically out the window in feigned melancholy.
“I’m heading out,” Tong Yuwu said her farewell.
Little White Cat didn’t move a muscle, and Tong Yuwu paid it no mind as she bent down to slip on her shoes.
But when she straightened up after lacing them, she discovered the Little White Cat already squatting a short distance away, swishing its long tail as it watched her.
Tong Yuwu reached out a hand. The Little White Cat hesitated for a moment before padding forward and nuzzling its head into her palm, letting her pet it to her heart’s content.
That afternoon, Ling Ge—who had no classes—took Meng Yiran to the Administrative Building to register her identity.
Thanks to the document signed by Teacher Liya, they smoothly obtained metal identity badges denoting temporary faculty status.
Ling Ge beamed as she led the way back. “With this, you should have no trouble getting around campus,” she said happily. But she didn’t forget to add a warning: “Just keep in mind that some of the noble students have awful personalities. They look down on commoners—not just bullying commoner students, but showing no respect to commoner-born teachers or staff either.
“Stay out of their way if you can.”
Meng Yiran frowned in confusion. “Everyone’s wearing the school uniform. How am I supposed to tell who’s noble-born and who’s not?”
Ling Ge raised her right hand and pointed to the middle of her left upper arm. “Here in Clarity Magic Academy, pretty much all the noble students join the school’s Lishen Guild. That bunch of idiots mark themselves by tying a dark green ribbon around their left arm—it’s their way of flaunting their status.
“Spot one of those green ribbons, and steer clear.”
Sudden understanding dawned on Meng Yiran. She recalled Kelly mentioning a “commoner club” earlier.
“Do the commoners have a club of their own? What’s their mark?”
“Forget what that blowhard said!” Ling Ge gritted her teeth. “We call it the Qiuzhi club—not some ‘commoner club.'”
She paused for a beat. “Though to be fair, every member of the Qiuzhi club really is commoner-born. We don’t have any badges or symbols. We’re all driven by a pure passion for scaling the heights of magical knowledge.”
Meng Yiran smiled. “I can see that.”
Ling Ge lifted her little chin with pride.
Something still struck Meng Yiran as odd, so she pressed: “Is the divide between nobles and commoners really that bad here at Clarity? It feels like they’re ready to go to war with each other.”
Ling Ge nodded without a second thought. “Yep.”
Meng Yiran could understand how such tensions arose, but one thing puzzled her. “Does the administration know about all this? Don’t the teachers step in to do something?”
“Aiya!” Ling Ge waved a hand dismissively. “They wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Why not?”
This time, Ling Ge didn’t answer right away. She tilted her head, thinking it over for a moment before replying. “My brother told me the school loves this setup. Things weren’t always this heated—the administration quietly stirred the pot behind the scenes to escalate it into what we have now.”
Meng Yiran nearly fumbled the identity badge in her grip. “Why on earth would the school do that?”
“For the students’ performance,” Ling Ge explained.
She went on: “Clarity publicly says they only admit based on age and magic aptitude, but they actually factor in a student’s current magic level too. Commoners might have the talent but lack resources, so they often show up not even knowing the basics of magic. Nobles are a different story—their families prep them from the cradle. A kid with just fourth- or fifth-level aptitude might already be an intermediate magic apprentice, and Clarity snaps them up anyway.
“That’s why commoners here tend to have higher average aptitude, but nobles outpace them in actual magic rank.”
She let out a yawn—likely from rattling off such a long explanation—before continuing. “In most academies, including Clarity back in the day, noble students coasted on family resources, stacking up their magic ranks just enough to look respectable before heading home to take over the estate. Commoners hustled for their futures, but it was nothing spectacular.
“Once we split into the Lishen and Qiuzhi clubs, though, the rivalry kicked in. The nobles who used to slack off couldn’t stand being outshone by commoners, so they buckled down on their grades. The commoners? They started studying like their lives depended on it. The school couldn’t be happier.”
It all clicked for Meng Yiran. “No wonder Senior Kelly said what she did that day…”
“Mm-hmm.” Ling Ge spun around to face her, hopping backward along the path. “Word is, other magic academies got jealous of us for a while and tried copying Clarity’s noble-commoner feud. But they factor in family background for admissions, and commoner groups there are too weak to really challenge the nobles. That’s why, all these years, only Clarity has this kind of vibe.”
“That’s how Clarity’s results have improved so much. Now it ranks as the third-best magic academy in the Empire.”
Meng Yiran couldn’t help but sigh in admiration. “It looks like the school leadership has real vision. A bit of healthy competition does wonders, after all.”
Ling Ge wasn’t ready to concede the point. She pouted and shot back, “Anyway, these days the school organizes everything by year group—from little quizzes to the big end-of-year exams. They always compare the nobles’ scores against the commoners’ in every single category.”
That piqued Meng Yiran’s curiosity. “So, who’s coming out on top?”
Ling Ge puffed out her cheeks. “When it comes to average scores across each year, ‘Qiuzhi’ is miles ahead, obviously.
“The top spots? Cough. We’ll let them have those.”
Meng Yiran nodded.
The situation wasn’t hard to foresee. Noble students came in all levels of ability, so their averages could never keep up with the commoners’. That said, the nobility boasted plenty of prodigies who worked hard and drew on family resources no commoner could dream of. It only made sense that they’d snag more of the standout spots.
As they talked, a memory flashed through Meng Yiran’s mind: Tong Yuwu’s ink-stained magic book from the night before.
She turned to Ling Ge, carefully choosing her words before she spoke. “With the divide between nobles and commoners running so deep… does that mean there’s bullying between them from time to time?”
Ling Ge gave a little hum. “Of course.”
She tapped Meng Yiran right on the forehead. “Did you already forget what I told you at the start?” She repeated herself: “Don’t go provoking those noble students.”
Then she added her own footnote: “Of course, sometimes you can ignore them all you want, and they’ll still come looking for trouble.”
Meng Yiran rubbed the spot she’d poked. “What about the commoners, though? Do commoner students ever pick on the nobles on purpose?”
The question gave Ling Ge pause.
She thought it over. “Probably… not?
“We steer clear of those stuck-up types as it is. Why on earth would we go out of our way to bully them?”
Meng Yiran’s expression twisted in frustration. “What if the noble student in question looks especially weak? Super easy to push around?”
Ling Ge met her gaze head-on. “You’re talking about Miss Tong, aren’t you?”
Meng Yiran blinked. “You knew?”
Ling Ge’s eyes darted around. “You asked it so obviously—if I couldn’t figure that out, I’d have to be an idiot.”
Meng Yiran decided to lay her cards on the table. “So, do you know anything about her? How’s she holding up in class these days?”
Ling Ge pressed her lips together. “Fair enough. You’re not from Clarity, so it’s no surprise you’re out of the loop.”
She drew in a deep breath. “That Miss Tong? She’s already the laughingstock of the first-year noble crowd.”
“What?” Meng Yiran’s eyes went wide. “Why?”
“You seriously didn’t know?” Ling Ge crossed her arms. “The first-years are all underage kids. Then there’s this one who looks like a full-grown adult squeezed in among them. It’s weird just to look at.
“And get this: I heard that in her very first class yesterday, the teacher tested her to see if she could keep up. She didn’t know a thing—not even the most basic magic theory.
“Word got around, and boom, she’s a joke.”
“What a first-year…” Meng Yiran muttered bitterly. “Just a bunch of childish brats.”
She couldn’t stop herself from jumping to Tong Yuwu’s defense. “She’s not as advanced as you all, sure, but that’s because she was in really bad health before. She even had to use a wheelchair just to get around. The moment she was well enough, she enrolled at Clarity Academy.”
Ling Ge muttered under her breath, “But I heard there was something shady about how she got in.
“No matter how you slice it, someone like her shouldn’t have made the cut for Clarity. They even bent the rules for her, opening the doors after recruitment season was over.”
“Clarity’s a private school, isn’t it? The Ming Family runs the place. So why don’t they take it up with the principal instead of gossiping behind the back of some defenseless girl?” Meng Yiran’s voice rose with anger. “Besides, like you said, recruitment was already done when she joined. She didn’t steal anyone’s spot.”
Ling Ge looked a little dazed. “Uh… you’ve got a point, but…”
She stammered, at a loss for words.
Meng Yiran took a deep breath of her own, steadying her emotions before she continued. “It’s fine—you don’t have to say anything. I get it. This kind of thing is inevitable, since she did get special treatment.”
Ling Ge ventured, “So, has she been bullied? Was she hurt when you headed back last night…?”
Meng Yiran shook her head. “No.”
She cleared her throat. “I just spotted a few clues on my own, that’s all. It got me wondering.”
Ling Ge nodded sympathetically.
“How should I put it? Normally, we definitely wouldn’t go bullying the nobles outright. At most, we’d toss out a few snide remarks and watch the spectacle unfold with those noble students. But these things are unpredictable—who knows what might happen.” She looked at Meng Yiran. “If it really bothers you, I can keep an eye on it for you and let you know how things develop.”
Meng Yiran calmed down and asked, “Will it take up too much of your time?”
Ling Ge shook her head. “Not at all. It’s no trouble.”
Meng Yiran nodded.
But she had her own plans. “Do you know which classroom she’s in?” She gripped the badge in her hand tightly. “Didn’t you say I can now move freely around most places in the school?”
“I want to go take a look myself.”
“I’m not sure about that,” Ling Ge said, spreading her hands. “But the first-years have their own academic building, so she’s probably there.”
She suggested, “Want me to take you over?”
“No need.” Meng Yiran smiled at her. “Just point me in the right direction. I’ve already put you out enough by having you come out with me today. You must have your own things to take care of.”
Ling Ge thought for a moment. “Fair enough.”
She sneaked a glance at Meng Yiran. “I know you’re not the type, but I still want to remind you… no matter what you see, don’t do anything rash. That young lady has the Ming Family as her biggest backer, after all. She won’t come out on the losing end.”
Meng Yiran let out a long breath. “I know.”
She assured the other girl, “Don’t worry. I’ll be very careful. My own status is special too, so I can’t afford to be too high-profile.”
With that, she waved goodbye to Ling Ge and set off alone in the direction she had indicated.
