Days had passed since their admission into Wangshou Academy. The initial thrill of arrival had dulled, replaced by the quiet anxiety of what was to come. But that day, the morning air held a strange electricity, as if the wind itself knew something important was about to happen.
Wenli found herself once again swept along with the tide of new disciples as they were summoned to the grand assembly hall. The sheer number of people took her by surprise—hundreds, no, thousands stood shoulder to shoulder, all eyes forward. And there she was, at the very back, like a forgotten scroll on a dusty shelf. Alone. Not out of shyness, but by choice.
She liked the quiet space. In this world where everything felt like a borrowed dream, solitude gave her a rare sense of control. She hugged her arms as if to hold herself steady, her gaze drifting across the sea of heads before her.
Then a figure emerged from the crowd and walked up to the podium. Wenli's eyes narrowed. It was the same woman from the day she had arrived, the one who seemed too poised, too elegant to belong among mortals.
The woman's voice echoed like a bell through the hall.
"Announcement to all disciples of Wangshou Academy," she began. "Before you stand your fellow cultivators. But behind you—look closely—stand your masters. Your Shizuns. From today, it is their responsibility to train and nurture you. Not merely in martial arts or cultivation, but in discipline, wisdom, and the very essence of what it means to walk the path of the Dao."
She smiled then, as if she wanted to say more, but held it back like a secret between old friends.
Wenli blinked and turned slowly.
There, standing behind her, was a woman. Mid-aged, maybe older—but not by much. Her robes were plain compared to the other masters, her hair tied in a simple knot, not even adorned with a jade pin. But her presence?
It hit like a thunderclap in the soul.
The crowd slowly dispersed after the announcement, but Wenli remained frozen in place, her gaze locked on the woman. She looked like someone who could crush bones with her gaze alone—and yet she wore the softest expression. Her voice, when she spoke, was oddly youthful.
"I'm Wu Jian. I'm your master."
Wenli blinked. "Zhao Wenli," she responded with a respectful bow.
She could've used her transmigrated name. She should've. But she didn't. Something about adopting that name—it felt like stealing a life that didn't belong to her. It wasn't her name. It was someone else's story, someone else's fate.
Wu Jian tilted her head slightly. "That name… does not match the scrolls."
But she didn't press. Instead, she turned away casually. "Meet me by the kitchen at the second hour of noon. Any delay means double the training time."
Wenli bowed again, and Wu Jian disappeared as soundlessly as she had appeared. Just like that.
"Li-jie!" Hualia's voice startled her out of her thoughts. The loyal maid was waving, her arms full of neatly folded robes. "How was the assembly?"
Wenli sighed. "Boring. Like those high school assemblies I used to fake illness to skip."
"High... what?"
Wenli's eyes widened. "Forget it. Just know it was long and terribly not worth the walk."
"Did you meet your master?"
"I did. And I don't want to talk about her. Let's head back. I have three hours to mentally prepare for death by cultivation."
Outside her room later, Wenli found herself wandering again, this time noticing details she had missed earlier. The academy grounds were ridiculously enormous. The spacious assembly hall where thousands had stood that morning still looked untouched, like it had swallowed the crowd whole without a trace. Golden pillars supported the arches like giant spears of sunlight, and the academy gate bore a curious emblem—somewhere between a monkey and an ape.
"Wangshou… ape keeper? Monkey master? This place needs a better logo," she muttered.
By the time she reached the kitchen, her legs were tired and her mind sore. She waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Thirty minutes passed before a sudden chill slithered up her spine. She turned instinctively.
"Master Wu," she greeted cautiously.
"Impressive," Wu Jian said, raising a brow. "Most can't sense me at all. You might just be worth my time."
"I'm flattered. Though… there's really no need—"
"Where is your room?" Wu Jian interrupted.
Wenli blinked. "Uh, why?"
"For training, of course. Or would you prefer the chicken coop?"
"Well, I thought you had a dojo or something…"
"Nope."
"That seems inefficient—"
"Where is your room?" she repeated, more firmly.
Wenli pointed toward the long winding path. "All the way there."
"Let's go."
"…Wait." Wenli narrowed her eyes. "If we were training in my room, why did you make me come all the way here?"
Wu Jian smirked. "To see if you'd question orders. You passed."
"That was a test?!"
"Let's say… half a test."
Wenli groaned. "You really are a nightmare in human robes."
Wu Jian only laughed. "You haven't seen nightmares yet."
They arrived at her modest quarters. Hualia was there, dutiful as ever, mopping the floor.
"Oh! Li-jie, who is—" she stopped, seeing the figure behind her. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know…"
"She's my master," Wenli said quickly.
"Master?" Hualia gasped, bowing awkwardly. "Apologies, I didn't—"
Wu Jian cut in. "Who is this?"
"My sister," Wenli said without hesitation.
Wu Jian looked her over. "You don't share blood."
Wenli's stomach flipped. She can tell?! Was she a modern soul like her? Or something worse?
"Ahem," Wenli cleared her throat. "She's still my sister. That's all that matters."
"I don't care," Wu Jian said coolly. "She has to leave."
"What?" Wenli stepped forward. "She's not a disciple, yes. But she has no place to go. I can't tolerate you tossing her out like she's a broken broom!"
Wu Jian let out a sigh that sounded more like thunder. "Fine."
With a flick of her fingers, blue and white lights burst into the air, forming a small glowing portal.
"Go in," she ordered.
"Why? Where?" Wenli blinked.
Wu Jian gave her a look that translated to "Don't test me unless you want to scrub latrines with your eyelashes."
Gulping, Wenli stepped in.
Hualia was left standing there, mop in hand, eyes wide with panic.
The portal closed with a soft pop.
Inside, they were no longer in her room. It was a strange, quiet place—a glowing dome of pale light and swirling mist.
"Welcome to your real training ground," Wu Jian said. "This realm exists outside of time. One day here is an hour out there."
"That's… disturbing."
"That's cultivation."
Wenli groaned. "This is definitely worse than high school."
"What is this high school you keep mentioning?" Wu Jian asked, brow twitching.
"Oh, just a place where teenagers suffer slowly while pretending to be functional adults."
"…Ah. Like outer sect disciples."
Wenli snorted. "Exactly."
Wu Jian nodded approvingly. "Then perhaps you're more ready for this world than I thought."
Wenli didn't respond.
Because she wasn't sure anymore—if this world was her punishment, her destiny, or her final lesson before death. But one thing was certain:
Wu Jian was going to drive her insane.
And she kind of liked it.