The skies above Tiandou were clear and bright, sunlight spilling onto the tiled roofs and broad avenues of the empire.
Several days had passed since the great Crown Prince Ceremony. In theory, the empire should be buzzing only with loyalty, songs, and praise. Xue Qinghe's investiture as heir had been meant to unify the court under majestic narrative, embellished by the Spirit Hall's invisible hand.
Yet beneath the glitter, troubles bled quietly.
The Ministry of Household's messy scandal had leaked like a cracked jar of wine. Despite Royal decrees silencing tongues and fictional tales published for the citizens, whispers still traveled under doors—from ministerial circles, through merchants, down to the city streets.
The Emperor fumed. "Which traitor leaks my court's disgrace?!" Snow Night raged behind his dragon screens, yet all he could do was curse. Ministers bled their whispers like children trading stories. And one man, his puppet strings cut, had lost himself forever.
Subei knew, smiling faintly behind his own mask, that his little scene had twisted the empire tighter around his fingers.
—
Meanwhile, back at Lanba Academy, Liu Erlong had her own storm to wrestle with—her "son's" reputation.
Her strange worry that Subei might walk down the wrong path—perhaps too eager with the prince's hand-holding—had transformed into something else entirely. If he must be charming… then let him be charming correctly!
She began urging Subei constantly: "Bei'er, you should get used to girls being close to you. Play with them, laugh with them, just not in dangerous ways. And definitely not with boys."
Her guidance had tilted quickly. Taboo melted into resigned longing—perhaps even wishing her godson would spend days surrounded by pretty girls, as long as he kept safe.
Subei, naturally, didn't mind. If godmother insists on pushing beauties into my orbit… who am I to object?
Thus was born the Tianjiao Class of Lanba Academy, a handpicked "genius class" founded under Subei's suggestion and Erlong's direct protection.
But the rules Liu Erlong decreed were absolute:
Only girls accepted.
No men, not even as assistants.
Candidates must be under 12.
Innate soul power below level 7? Rejected.
The final review? Handled personally by Subei.
The standards were severe to the point of cruel. Even talents who could've led element sects were brushed aside. The result? The chosen pool glittered—genius after genius, all gathered under a boy's gaze.
—
The examinations were held not on the island, but in a remote grove nearby: a small wooden hut beneath lines of tall trees, sunlight filtering in rose-dappled beams across its clearing.
On the pathway, throngs gathered.
"Why are so many girls walking toward the forest?!"
"You don't know? It's the Tianjiao Class recruitment! Only girls, under twelve, and strict requirements on martial spirit and innate power!"
Another chimed in excitedly, voice hushed. "But the real reason people gather? I heard the final assessment is personally decided by the most beautiful child Tiandou has ever seen."
"What?!"
"Yes, the one taken in by Liu Erlong! The one who even His Highness the Crown Prince favors!"
Crowds exchanged glances of awe. Painters, poets, and gossip-mongers crowded the edges, desperate for a glimpse.
At the heart of it all, Subei sat inside the audit hut, restless. Before him rested a white table with meticulous forms. Around him, seated anxiously, lined up girls of varied gifts: some demure and elegant, some bright-eyed and lively, some already striking in nascent beauty. Each had talents worthy of most sect masters' envy.
Yet as Subei scanned their faces one by one, he felt faintly bemused. …Isn't this just like an ancient emperor choosing consorts for the harem? My godmother calls it genius training, but this lineup is suspiciously like interviews for my future wives.
Around the clearing, experts lined the perimeter—Soul Kings and Emperors handpicked by Liu Erlong for security. Common folk compared it to some spectacle of celebrity worship, treating his presence like a star shining down.
Indeed, many disciples sneaked glimpses of him with wide eyes, trailing whispers. Painters carried easels, vigorously sketching. Yet each time, they grew frustrated, ripping their canvases apart.
"No, no! His face cannot be captured!"
"Every angle, every smile—it overflows the brush. My art fails him!"
Some despaired aloud:
"Even describing him in words fails—his presence, his light cannot be recorded. This youth… is not of the world."
"I am done!" cried the royal court's own famed painter, Su Wen, dropping his brush. His hair had turned half-white after fruitless nights. Failing to capture Subei's features had broken his soul. "If Heaven gifts us such a boy, then mortal hand is unworthy to copy him!"
Gasps and murmurs echoed at his collapse.
It became almost commonplace: mocked jokes of artists fainting at Subei's beauty, poets weeping at his smile. Within Lanba's walls, his fame spread like wildfire—like a celebrity whose visage itself was divine.
Subei sighed privately. Another disadvantage of being too handsome. Even selfies would betray me… If the Douluo World had cameras, perhaps even they would blur.
—
"Brother, are you tired?"
Xiao Wu burst into the hut, dropping a pouch of snacks onto the table. She peered with innocent concern. "Do you want me to massage your shoulders? Ease your stress?"
Subei straightened instantly, his tone like righteous steel. "Xiao Wu! I am working. My duty is to Lanba Academy, to the future of the Tianjiao Class. I cannot be distracted by comfort."
She pouted, big eyes shimmering. "But brother, those girls out there… they look at you strangely. I don't like it."
Indeed, she had seen it already. Wide eyes, hungry gazes, little hands gripping nervously. Girls looked at Subei like worshipers gazing upon a god.
Her tiny fists clenched. "I even saw one girl trying to hug you!"
Subei reached out and brushed her hair softly, smiling like a teacher to a student.
"Xiao Wu, that hug was salvation. They said if I didn't hug them, they'd rather die. Could I allow such tragedy? A hug can save a life. Was I wrong to grant salvation, hm?"
Xiao Wu blinked, trying to process his words. "I… I guess?"
"No doubts, Xiao Wu!" Subei's voice boomed solemnly. He pointed a finger at her nose. "Repeat after me. My brother's actions are righteous. My brother saves lives. I hope he hugs more girls who would otherwise despair!"
The girl blushed crimson, but, confused and cornered, murmured, "B-Brother is great…"
"That's right." Subei kissed her cheek quickly. "Good girl."
At once, Xiao Wu nearly combusted with heat, clutching her face. "B-Brother! People are watching—"
Outside, the geniuses gasped.
"Ahhh! So lucky! I want a kiss too!"
"Brother Subei, save me as well!"
"I'd trade ten years of my life for just one!"
The hut's air filled with fevered whispers, worship and madness blending into one.
Subei leaned back in his chair, sighing theatrically. Lord save me… it's exhausting being everyone's idol.
But in his heart, a mischievous thought bloomed. If even this stirs such chaos, what will happen the day Xuemei herself confronts me openly? The world won't survive it.