The card’s advice had come too late, making those three deliberately repeated warnings on it seem utterly laughable. Tong Yuwu spread open her palm, letting that surge of power coil upward around it. Soon enough, the card met the same compressed fate, tightly crumpled into a hard paper ball.
Finally, Tong Yuwu tossed it lightly into the ruins before her, formed by countless toppled bookshelves.
She turned to leave and continue searching for the exit. She had taken just two steps when her sixth sense blared a frantic warning. Before she could even react, she dodged sharply backward.
“Bang—”
A massive crystal chandelier crashed down from the ceiling, smashing right into the spot where she had been about to step. Tong Yuwu pressed herself against the wall, not even having time to catch her breath, when the oil painting mounted there—a rotten one whose original appearance was unrecognizable, save for the clear and eerie smile at the corner of its mouth—suddenly loosened and came crashing down from its high position, wobbling unsteadily.
The seemingly frail Noble Miss actually reacted with impressive speed, dodging away at the first instant. But as she lifted her leg, she sensed something wrong. Looking down, she discovered that her heel had somehow gotten wedged into a tiny crevice in the floorboards, and she couldn’t pull it free for the moment.
The lips of the figure in the oil painting curled upward even more, splitting into a wide grin that revealed a fishy, swollen red tongue inside. As it plummeted, its rust-spotted frame released a foul, fishy stench that filled the air, overwhelming and impossible to evade.
“Bang—”
The door to the small secret chamber swung open. As Meng Yiran and Liya emerged from inside, Ling Ge was in the outer room, playfully petting a dazed Little Blue Cat.
She whipped her head around at the sound. “How did it go? Are the results out?”
Teacher Liya still wore that kind, amiable expression. She nodded in response. “Yes, both wood and water magic elements are very close to her.”
“Wow—that’s great.” Ling Ge turned to Meng Yiran, her eyes brimming with admiration. “Doesn’t that mean you can learn both wood magic and water magic?”
Meng Yiran stuck out her tongue, looking terribly embarrassed. “But my magic aptitude is only level 6…”
She recalled the Clarity enrollment details she had seen over the past few days, which laid out the magic aptitude requirements for commoner students without any prior foundation. “As a commoner, I don’t even qualify to enroll at Clarity Magic Academy.”
“Don’t be discouraged,” Teacher Liya encouraged her. “Clarity has high standards, but compared to the entire Empire, your aptitude is already in the mid-to-upper range.”
Her words were gentle yet carried undeniable strength. “Moreover, I’ve always believed that magic aptitude doesn’t represent everything. Even if it caps your magic power potential, the realm of magic still holds endless skills waiting for you to explore and master.”
Encouraged by her, Meng Yiran’s mood lifted considerably. “Mm.”
She sat down beside Ling Ge. “I know, Teacher. I shouldn’t be worrying about that now. Not to mention reaching my limit—I haven’t even formally begun yet.”
Liya nodded with relief, a smile on her face. “I’ll look for some resources tonight and have suitable magic tutorials ready for you by tomorrow afternoon.”
Meng Yiran replied obediently. “Mm, thank you for going to the trouble.”
Beside them, Ling Ge patted her shoulder. “That’s the right mindset.” She handed over the Little Blue Cat she had been holding. “Here, play with her for a bit. Petting a kitty really does wonders for your mood.”
The Little Blue Cat looked familiar—it was identical to the one Meng Yiran had held outside Tong Yuwu’s windowsill that night.
Meng Yiran stared blankly for a moment before it clicked. “Uh, is this a cat clone you made?”
“Yeah.” Ling Ge nodded, raising both hands at the same time. “I’ve been petting her all evening—look.”
Meng Yiran stared at her bare palm. “…What are you looking at?”
“No shedding fur!” Ling Ge puffed out her cheeks in complaint. “I stroked her all night long, and not a single hair came off!”
Meng Yiran blinked in surprise. “Really?”
She lifted the dazed and utterly oblivious Little Blue Cat and ran her hand over its fur a couple of times. The little creature was so soft and its coat incredibly smooth to the touch. Meng Yiran opened her mouth to praise it—only to spot a single dark, short hair clinging to the front of her shirt.
Ling Ge noticed it too. The two of them stared at the offending strand in silence.
Meng Yiran recovered first. “Uh… well… ahem. Actually, I think it’s normal for cats to shed a bit…”
Ling Ge let out a wail and snatched the Little Blue Cat back from her arms. “Meng Yiran! You’re so mean! How could you stroke her that hard?!”
Meng Yiran’s eyes went wide in bewilderment. “???”
Ling Ge cradled the Little Blue Cat protectively. “You actually plucked out her fur. My poor little kitten must be in so much pain.”
Meng Yiran caught on and played along, shouldering the blame. “Alright, alright, my bad. I got carried away and stroked too hard.”
She peered at the Little Blue Cat. “You’d better check if she’s hurt.”
Ling Ge huffed, though the pout on her lips eased a little.
Teacher Liya watched the two of them bickering with amusement and chimed in. “The Incantation Arts that Ling Ze taught you?”
Before they could respond, she continued, “Joking aside, a clone is incredibly important to its original body. You must take good care of it.
“If the clone dies, it’s like losing an arm or a leg for the original—nothing to take lightly.”
Meng Yiran let out an “Ah.” “I see…”
Ever the curious one, she asked, “Teacher, what happens if the original body dies while the clone still exists?”
Liya paused for a moment. “Generally speaking, the clone dies right along with it.”
Meng Yiran picked up on the implication in her words. “And in the unusual cases?”
“Our clan has an advanced technique that can transfer your consciousness into the clone the instant the original body dies,” Liya explained leisurely. “But the Golden Cicada Shell-Shedding Technique is extremely dangerous. For the clone, the original’s death is far worse than just losing a few limbs—it would be clinging to life by half a thread at best. Even if the transfer succeeds, that clone would be facing nine deaths and one slim chance of survival.”
Meng Yiran nodded in realization. “It’s a desperate last resort, betting everything on fate.”
Liya nodded, then suddenly grinned. “This advanced technique is rarely used. Even Ling Ze doesn’t know it.”
Ling Ge’s eyes widened. “My brother doesn’t know it?” Her interest piqued. “Teacher Liya, teach us!”
“I’ve forgotten the details…” Liya scratched at her hair, now streaked with white. “I’ll dig it up when I get home. Maybe next time.”
Ling Ge murmured an “Mm” and quickly shifted topics. “Oh, right—where did my brother go tonight? Why hasn’t he come over?”
Liya glanced up at her. “He’s here. In the room next door.”
Ling Ge drew out a meaningful “Ooooh~”
Meng Yiran looked puzzled. “What’s that about?”
Ling Ge tucked away the Little Blue Cat and pulled her to her feet. “My brother’s trying that Summoning Magic again. Come on, I’ll take you to watch the fun.”
Meng Yiran hesitated, reluctant to move. “Uh… next time.”
She glanced out the window. “It’s about time. I should head back.”
“It’s not even nine yet,” Ling Ge protested, wrinkling her little nose. “Even if that nasty young lady heads straight back from the library to the dorm, it’ll take her half an hour. What’s the rush?
“Besides, even if she gets back early, there’s still the Little White Cat pretending to sleep to cover for you.”
Meng Yiran looked down, voicing her concern. “Didn’t you tell me the First Library is a bit strange?
“I’m not at ease. I want to go back and wait for her.”
“Ah…” Ling Ge frowned. “That’s just old ghost stories. Who knows if they’re even true? Nothing like that has happened in ages.”
Seeing Meng Yiran’s brows still knitted in worry, she added, “Even if that nasty young lady is really unlucky and runs into it on her first night, the worst she’d face is getting lost in the library for the evening. No real danger at all.”
Meng Yiran forced a smile. “I know.”
Logically, she knew Ling Ge was spot on—the Magic World didn’t have supernatural happenings—but emotionally, the worry lingered. “I still want to go check on her. There’s always next time for whatever Ling Ze’s up to.”
With that, she gathered her things to leave.
Liya stepped forward and called out to her, joining in the persuasion. “If you’re not in a hurry, why not pop in and take a look together?”
Her words carried far more authority than Ling Ge’s. “Say just a couple of sentences, then go. I guarantee you’ll get back to the dorm sooner than Miss Tong.”
With an elder speaking up like that, Meng Yiran couldn’t refuse even if she wanted to.
Teacher Liya had considered everything thoroughly. Meng Yiran didn’t seem at all reluctant about being roped in, and she nodded. “Alright.”
Liya smiled and led the two of them into the room next door.
Ling Ze had already finished. He sat on a chair with a vacant expression, lost in a daze. Hearing the sound, he glanced toward the door. “Teacher… you’ve all come.”
Ling Ge bounded over to his side in two or three quick steps. “Bro, how’d it go?”
“Same as always.” Ling Ze’s reply came out flat, neither joyful nor sorrowful—as if he were completely accustomed to it by now.
Liya stepped forward, her face noticeably graver. “No progress at all?”
Ling Ze hung his head guiltily before her. “There might have been some, but it’s beyond my ability to comprehend.” He let out a sigh. “Teacher, I’m sorry. I wasted so many of your materials, and now I’ve disappointed you too.”
Liya patted his shoulder. “Good child, it’s fine.”
A smile returned to her face. “Take it slow. Don’t dwell on it.”
Only then did Meng Yiran draw closer.
She saw a black wooden tray on the table in front of Ling Ze, filled with fine sand arranged into a complex, symmetrical pattern. It was undoubtedly connected to the “Summoning Magic” Ling Ge had mentioned.
From the trio’s conversation, Meng Yiran gathered that Ling Ze had been trying for a long time, but he’d never succeeded.
Suddenly, Teacher Liya turned and beckoned her over. She stepped aside to let Meng Yiran stand at the edge of the table, then pointed at the Summoning Magic Array. “Do you notice anything?”
Not just Meng Yiran—the Ling Family siblings froze too, all turning to stare at her in unison.
But Ling Ze and Ling Ge quickly fixed their gazes squarely on Meng Yiran.
Feeling awkward, Meng Yiran braced herself. “Uh… this magic array is pretty… pretty complicated.”
Ling Ze spoke up. “It draws on the power at the root of our clan’s heritage.”
“Ah, really?” At those words, Meng Yiran grew far more attentive.
