Arrival at Wangshou Academy
When Wenli finally opened her eyes, the world spun.
She lay in bed, her body heavy, her head pounding. A wave of dizziness made her wish she had simply stayed unconscious.
"Miss Wenli, you're awake?" came the calm, familiar voice of her maid—her shadow through every tragedy, the one who had never once left her side since the destruction of her family.
"What happened?" Wenli asked, though it wasn't really what she wanted to know. She already knew what had happened—she remembered clearly—but her mind was too slow to frame a better question, and the moment to correct herself had already passed.
"You fainted after you met the Immortal Dragon King," Hualia answered quietly.
Despite the weakness in her limbs, Wenli let out a sharp, breathless laugh that nearly choked her. She coughed hard, suffering the consequences of her own humor.
"Immortal… of what?" she asked once she caught her breath.
Hualia frowned, clearly surprised. "You really don't know who he is?"
"If I did, would I have asked?" Wenli shot back.
"He is the most powerful of all," Hualia explained, her tone carrying the weight of awe and caution. "The only one to reach immortality at the age of eighteen. His power is beyond major… beyond anything you can imagine."
Wenli was not immune to the idea of fearing something that surpassed death itself. But still, the title made her want to laugh again. Those who sent her here with the warning "survive or die miserably" must have been half-joking.
"I won't be free, that's for sure," she muttered, pushing herself upright. "What we should aim for is getting to that damned school, finishing the whole cultivation thing, and getting it over with."
Only then did she look around and realize the place they were in was neither safe nor modest for girls like them.
"Where is this?" she asked.
"While trying to hide from the Immortal Dragon King, I found this place," Hualia replied.
"For how long?"
"Half a day."
"What?" Wenli's voice was sharp. "That's long enough for filthy men to find us."
Her hand moved instinctively to her sash—and there it was, the thick parchment of the invitation letter.
"Ah… the cultivation academy."
"Thank goodness you still have it," Hualia breathed in relief.
"You know this academy well?"
"Only that we can reach it before dusk," Hualia said, helping her mistress to her feet.
"Transportation?" Wenli asked, surprised by her maid's confidence.
"By foot."
And so they walked—step after step—until at last the towering gates of Wangshou Academy came into view.
"Your invitation," one of the guards ordered curtly.
Hualia handed over the letter. The guard examined it, then passed it to a woman whose presence was calm yet unreadable. She studied it briefly before the corners of her lips curved upward.
"Follow me," she said gently.
The corridors they passed through seemed endless, a winding path of carved stone and flickering lantern light. At last, they stopped before a massive door—no, a gate—that loomed above them. Wenli imagined that if it were a living being, it would look down at them the way Goliath looked at David: as if they were nothing more than ants.
A single knock, and the door opened. The woman turned back to them with a smile. "Come in."
They obeyed, moving almost mechanically, their eyes widening as they entered a hall dressed in gold and crimson—crimson so deep it was nearly black. In the center of the far wall was a large emblem. To Wenli, it looked more like a monkey than an ape, but she didn't dwell on it. Compared to the modern world she had left behind, the hall was magnificent… yet some of the ancient antiques here could have easily fetched millions back home.
"Master," the woman said with a bow toward the empty throne, "the daughter of Zhu Zi Mei and Yu Jiang Wu has arrived to answer her invitation."
Wenli reminded herself to keep her composure. First day—don't ruin it. Survive at all costs.
Then, white fog began to swirl around the throne as if the seat itself were about to vanish. Within seconds, the mist condensed into a living being.
At first, it was the shape of an ape. Then it shifted into a human—no, something in between. A woman dressed as a man, wearing a male's hairstyle yet carrying the physique of a woman.
Their confusion over the figure's gender was erased when the voice came—a woman's, deep and steady.
"They only had one child," she said. "Who is this?"
Wenli reacted instantly, bowing and pulling Hualia down with her. "My Master," she began cautiously, "I am Zhu Wenli, daughter of Zhu Zi Mei and Yu Jiang Wu, and this is my maid, Hualia."
"Only children are allowed here. How dare you bring a mere maid?" the Master's voice was calm, but her words were sharp as blades.
Wenli's mind searched quickly—psychology at work. "She is not just a maid," she said, voice soft but firm. "She is my sister. Our home was destroyed. My parents—her masters—were killed when the Immortal Dragon King massacred our clan. Only she and I survived. Please, have mercy, and allow two homeless children to remain."
The Master didn't seem convinced, but nor was she cruel enough to split them apart. "You will bear the burden of sharing a room," she said simply. "Our rooms are large enough for two."
Burden? Wenli thought. In London, she had often crawled into her nanny's bed at night when she was afraid. Sharing a room was the least of her worries.
"Disappear," the Master ordered. Her figure dissolved into mist.
The woman who had guided them smiled. "Let me show you to your room."
It was spacious, well-ventilated, and furnished with more than enough to make Hualia uneasy. The wardrobe was filled with neatly arranged garments—five of them identical in cut but different in color.
"Uniforms," Wenli guessed aloud. She touched the fabric, appreciating the light, fitted sleeves—so much better than the heavy, torn dress she currently wore.
She turned, ready to speak, but froze when she saw Hualia kneeling with her head lowered.
"What's wrong?"
"I… I can't stay here," Hualia murmured. "This is something only you should enjoy. Sharing clothes, shoes, even the same bed—it's improper for a maid."
Wenli sighed, squatting to meet her gaze. "Hualia. The night we survived, when everyone else died or fled, you became my sister. What I told our Master was the truth. Don't think too much."
"But—"
"I'll be very angry if you keep calling me 'Miss Wenli.' Call me Li-jie. Understand?" Her tone turned firm.
Hualia smiled faintly, nodding. "Li-jie."
"Good. Now, don't touch these matching clothes," Wenli warned with a smirk. "I think our Master would actually explode if you wore them."
"Why?"
"They're probably disciples' uniforms. Best to avoid trouble."
Selecting two simpler outfits, Wenli handed one to Hualia. She took a wooden bucket and went in search of water—only to discover that each hallway had its own clean well, just a short walk from their door.