After dinner, the four of them didn’t head home. Instead, they made their way to Mystic Academy to enroll.
They passed through the north city gate, climbed the mountain path, and turned left to arrive at the academy entrance.
Unlike usual, the academy gates were bustling with activity, crowded with people streaming in and out without end.
But the gates weren’t even the most crowded spot. The enrollment square held that distinction.
The square was packed to the brim with humanity, yet everything proceeded in an orderly fashion—row upon row, line upon line, leaving plenty of room to pass through.
Mystic Academy’s enrollment requirements were strict: under twenty years old and at least a Mystic Practitioner in cultivation.
Though demanding, when spread across the entire nation, the applicants naturally piled up.
Not everyone in the crowd met the criteria, of course. Some were over twenty, or just a hair shy of Mystic Practitioner level. They hoped to get lucky, pull some strings, or at least show their faces.
New students had to undergo a cultivation assessment. Only those who passed could complete enrollment.
The assessment served a dual purpose: weeding out the unqualified pretenders, and sorting new students into tiers.
Mystic Academy didn’t divide classes by age or grade—it sorted by cultivation level.
One- to three-star Mystic Practitioners went to the Beginner Class, four- to six-star to the Intermediate Class, and seven- to nine-star to the Advanced Class.
Among those at the same level, the younger ones showed greater potential.
High-potential students got placed in better classes with superior mentors, granting them access to richer cultivation resources.
Yan Ruyu and Mi Xue’er were both Intermediate Class students, placed together in Class 1. Mentor Yu Xuan had even taken a shine to them, personally guiding their training—a source of endless envy.
Yan Zhen would turn sixteen after the new year. With his five-star Mystic Practitioner cultivation, he’d land in the Intermediate Class upon enrollment, undoubtedly in Class 1.
Yan Meng’er was a different story. Despite her memories from a past life, she’d spent more time scheming how to win over her cousin Yan Zhen than focusing on cultivation. At merely two-star Mystic Practitioner, she could only join the Beginner Class.
It wasn’t until this moment that she realized something crucial. If she wanted to stick with Cousin Yan Zhen forever, mere clinging and cuddling wouldn’t cut it. She had to keep pace with his cultivation, or he’d graduate ahead while she was still stuck at Mystic Academy. Disaster.
Even if she succeeded in becoming his girlfriend, a long-distance relationship would leave her vulnerable to vixens slipping in.
Cousin Yan Zhen was devoted to cultivation, sure—but those vixens were shamelessly persistent and seductive.
She had to buckle down and cultivate hard.
The line for testing snaked on endlessly. By the time their turn came, night might have fallen.
Yan Zhen’s face soured. He despised waiting in lines. No matter how great a shop’s reputation, he’d skip it if it meant queuing up. He couldn’t fathom the fanatics who camped overnight for concert tickets or new game consoles.
They hadn’t even joined the queue yet, but the sight of it already filled him with dread.
Yan Meng’er spotted Yan Zhen’s sourpuss expression and knew he hated lines. She quickly asked, “Cousin, Sister Xue’er, any way to speed this up for us?”
The two women glanced at Yan Zhen. His handsome face might as well have had “I’m not happy” scrawled across it in big letters. They exchanged amused smiles.
Mi Xue’er then adopted the haughty tone of a senior student. “Of course! I’m somebody around here, after all. Cutting in line is a piece of cake.”
Yan Ruyu rolled her eyes at her best friend, who was full of nonsense, and explained, “Mentor Yu Xuan should be inside. We can ask her for help.”
The group skirted the testing line and headed straight to the enrollment processing area behind the square. Ten tents stood in a row there, each staffed by a mentor.
After a quick search, the two women located Mentor Yu Xuan’s tent—number seven. The natural social butterfly Mi Xue’er waved enthusiastically and called out, “Mentor Yu Xuan~ We’ve come to see you!”
Her shout drew glances from nearby mentors and students. Seeing three stunning beauties and one handsome young man together made their eyes light up.
Being stared at like that mortified Yan Ruyu. She smacked her silly best friend’s arm, signaling her to quit embarrassing them.
The four entered tent number seven.
Inside, a desk stood with a beautiful woman seated behind it. She wore a flowing blue dress and sported a princess braid, along with oval glasses. Her eyes and brows behind the lenses held a gentle ink-wash softness, giving her an air of intellect and grace.
It was none other than Mentor Yu Xuan: Intermediate Class instructor at Mystic Academy, Holy Land Academy graduate, and a Six-Star Mystic Master in cultivation.
As the four entered, Mentor Yu Xuan finished processing a student’s enrollment and sent her on her way. Only then did she turn to her own students, her gaze tinged with helplessness.
“Xue’er, stop yelling your head off. You’re the pampered young miss of the Mi Family—show some decorum.”
She drew out the word “decorum” meaningfully.
Mi Xue’er, utterly shameless, sidled closer. “I am being decorum-y! But you’re so kind and gorgeous, Mentor Yu Xuan—I can’t help wanting to get close to you~”
“Silver-tongued as always. If only you put that glibness into your cultivation.” After a mild scolding, Mentor Yu Xuan turned to Yan Ruyu, a faint smile softening her lovely features. “Ruyu, you’re back. Did you sort out the family matter?”
Last year, Yan Ruyu had requested half a month’s leave for a family emergency. Her flawless record had earned instant approval.
Yan Ruyu felt a pang of guilt. There’d been no emergency at all. She’d taken the leave because a voice in her head kept urging her to confess to Cousin Yan Zhen—straightforwardly, without hesitation. Strike once, and if rejected, strike again until he said yes.
She’d never do such a thing, but the nagging voice left her heart itching with what-ifs. How would it feel to confess? She couldn’t settle down to cultivate.
Flipping through some books, she’d diagnosed herself with “lovesickness,” which could lead to a Heart Demon if unchecked. Shame and fear had gripped her.
The cure for lovesickness? Seeing the object of your affection. So Yan Ruyu had fabricated the excuse to rush home and meet Yan Zhen.
She sensed Yan Zhen and Yan Meng’er shooting her odd looks, as if questioning what family issue had demanded her attention. Her guilt deepened, but she forced composure. “Y-yes, it’s handled… Ahem, Mentor, I’ve reached five-star Mystic Practitioner now. And I’m on the cusp of six-star.”
Mentor Yu Xuan nodded slightly, appraising Yan Ruyu. “Your aura feels remarkably full. You’ll likely break through to six-star Mystic Practitioner in a month or two. Looks like you didn’t slack off during break. Well done.”
“Mentor Yu Xuan, I’ve hit five-star Mystic Practitioner too! Praise me~”
Mi Xue’er fished for compliments, and Mentor Yu Xuan chuckled despite herself. “You’ve done well enough.”
“Hee hee, not bad, right? Thanks for the praise, Mentor~”
Mi Xue’er put on a coy act, trying her best to play the demure maiden.
Mentor Yu Xuan ignored her antics and shifted her gaze to Yan Zhen and Yan Meng’er standing behind the two women. She paused, ever so slightly.
It was him.
Unaware of her mentor’s reaction, Yan Ruyu made the introductions at just the right moment. “Mentor, these are my cousin and my little cousin. I’ve brought them to you for enrollment processing.”
