Chapter Twelve: Destiny Reaches the Pinnacle of Heaven

After the dreamlike Lantern Festival at the Pear Garden came to an end, Hua Sheng and Weiyu followed the slow-moving crowd of spectators, making their way out of the garden’s central grounds.

They had barely walked a few steps when Weiyu glanced up at the lanterns hanging on both sides of the path and murmured, “The Dog Hour is well past. If we arrive at the Academy too late, we risk being spotted by the Immortals. Our Enlightened Master is strict. If he finds out, he’ll surely scold me, the deputy registrar, for disregarding the academy’s regulations.”

Hua Sheng had no choice but to quicken his pace, taking three steps in the space of two. But Weiyu simply seized his hand and lifted them both into the clouds.

Weiyu’s hand was small and warm, her skin so delicate that it seemed a mere touch could pierce it. Hua Sheng, captured in her grasp, felt sweat bead across his body. The chill wind at that height made him sneeze.

“Perhaps I’m flying too high and the wind is too much. I’ll slow down,” Weiyu said, lowering their speed and bringing them closer to the ground. “I thought you’d enjoyed the wind during the performance in midair. Hm? Why is your forehead beaded with moisture? Did you not dry off after being splashed earlier? Didn’t I use the water-removal spell to help? Or have I not mastered it yet?”

“No, no,” Hua Sheng interrupted hastily. “It’s nothing, I just broke out in a sweat.”

Weiyu looked puzzled. “But you were sneezing—are you hot or cold?”

“I got hot, and then the wind made me a bit cold,” Hua Sheng stammered, making excuses. “Just focus on flying, don’t worry about me.”

Weiyu covered her mouth, hiding a quiet laugh.

Though Hua Sheng felt a chill, he secretly hoped their journey would take longer. Yet Weiyu’s flight was swift and steady; in the blink of an eye, the Academy of the Mystic Arts was below them.

They descended to find the main gate already closed, with only a side door left open for nighttime passage. Hua Sheng was about to push it open when Weiyu stopped him.

“If you barge in like that, the night patrol might spot us.”

“Then what should we do?”

“Let’s transform into wild cats and slip inside. Try to make no sound,” Weiyu whispered.

Hua Sheng nodded eagerly, grateful that he’d learned some magic over the past half year. “How about you turn into a wild cat, and I’ll become a flea on your back?”

Weiyu gave him a gentle punch. “You rascal, always up to mischief. I’m not letting you hide in my robes! If you push your luck, I’ll squash you, you little flea!”

“I’m only joking! I just wanted to hide better, not what you’re thinking,” Hua Sheng replied sheepishly, aware of his lesser abilities.

“Hurry up and transform,” Weiyu said, feigning gravity, though a smile played at the corners of her eyes.

Muttering an incantation, Hua Sheng turned into a gray wildcat.

Weiyu spun around as well. “By urgent command, transform!” She became a little white cat.

Padding softly, the two slipped under the side door and into the Academy grounds. The night was silent, with only the occasional immortal on patrol. Hidden in the shrubbery, they went unnoticed.

Skirting the central Sacred Path of the Academy, they neared the disciples’ quarters. Just as Hua Sheng began to relax, a sudden shout shattered the silence.

“Who goes there, sneaking about!” The male voice was like a thunderclap. Hua Sheng sprang into the air on all fours. Before he could land, a heavy kick caught him in the belly, sending him flying and instantly returning him to his human form.

Seeing the danger, Weiyu reverted as well, darting two fathoms away. Manipulating the air, she caught Hua Sheng safely.

Pain twisted his insides as Hua Sheng looked up in the moonlight. Standing in the path was a young man in Academy robes, holding a dust whisk.

“Middle of the night, skulking around my Academy—what are you up to?” The youth squinted at Hua Sheng, then noticed Weiyu behind him, exclaiming, “Weiyu?”

Weiyu seemed to recognize him but remained silent.

“Weiyu, what are you doing here so late? And who’s this?” The young man sounded angry, pointing at Hua Sheng.

Catching his breath, Hua Sheng retorted, “My name is Hua Sheng. And who are you?”

“Oh, I’ve heard of you—the little ant who transferred into the Academy,” the youth sneered, then turned to Weiyu. “You, the deputy registrar, consorting with such an ant at midnight—aren’t you afraid of being laughed at?”

Weiyu raised her head and glared at him. “Don’t look down on others.”

Hua Sheng bristled. “Who are you, anyway? No manners at all! I’ve told you my name—shouldn’t you announce yours?”

But the youth ignored him, focusing on Weiyu. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see you tonight. Go back at once. You’ve only just become deputy registrar—don’t cause trouble, or you’ll bring shame on the Council of Disciples.”

“How dare you lecture Weiyu!” Hua Sheng was furious at the scolding. “She’s her own person with her own mind. What she does is her business! Do you even know what freedom is? You think we’re still in feudal times? Damn it!”

He lunged for the youth’s collar, but as he drew near, the youth flicked his dust whisk, sending Hua Sheng tumbling backward, seeing stars.

“Tianji Zi, enough!” Weiyu shouted.

Only then did Hua Sheng realize, by the moonlight, that this was none other than the chief registrar of the Council of Disciples, whom he’d met before on Mount Xuanwu.

Tianji Zi looked at Weiyu, anger flickering in his eyes, but said nothing. He strode over to Hua Sheng, who scrambled to his feet and glared back. “If you dare attack me with magic, you’ll be breaking Academy rules. If you’ve got the guts, kill me and see what happens!”

Tianji Zi’s face was expressionless. “I wouldn’t need magic to kill an ant like you.”

Suddenly, Hua Sheng felt an oppressive force emanate from the youth, making it hard to breathe.

Tianji Zi continued, “Of course I can discipline her. She’s deputy registrar of the Council, and I am the chief. It’s my duty to supervise her after hours, and to protect our reputation from being dragged down by an ant.”

Hua Sheng was suddenly enlightened. No wonder the youth kept calling him an “ant.” Taishang Jun had told him the chief registrar was a fierce opponent of the “Supplementary Clause 33, Section Five of the Minor Protection Act.” They called those who entered Shengpingning under that law “ants.”

“That’s social discrimination! That’s bigotry! I won’t let you get away with it!” Hua Sheng fumed, determined to teach this arrogant youth a lesson.

“To me, you’re just an ant. Even without magic, doing nothing at all, you couldn’t lay a finger on me,” Tianji Zi said, looking at him with contempt.

Hua Sheng, provoked, clenched his fists and charged. “Don’t you dare dodge!”

Tianji Zi spread his hands, not moving an inch.

“Hua Sheng! Stop!” Weiyu cried.

But Hua Sheng, refusing to back down in front of Weiyu, was resolved to land a punch, however much trouble it might bring. Just as he gave it his all, his foot caught on a stone and he lost his balance, crashing to the ground in a heap.

Tianji Zi lowered his hands, openly mocking Hua Sheng’s bravado. “Didn’t I already warn you? You can’t touch me even if I do nothing to stop you.”

“I just tripped, don’t get cocky,” Hua Sheng muttered, mortified in front of Weiyu. He tried to charge again.

“Stop!” Weiyu commanded, raising her hand.

Hua Sheng found his body suddenly heavy, as if filled with lead—he couldn’t move.

“Good, little ant—listen to the deputy registrar. She’s only doing this for your sake. If you attack me, you’ll only hurt yourself,” Tianji Zi said coolly. “Stay away from Weiyu, or you’ll find yourself unwelcome in this Academy.”

Though immobilized, Hua Sheng’s eyes blazed with fury.

Tianji Zi turned to Weiyu. “You’ve only been here half a year, and the deputy’s seat wasn’t easily won. If not for your talent, you’d never have had such a chance.”

Weiyu bit her lip in displeasure, saying nothing.

“Don’t ruin your future over such trifles.” With that, Tianji Zi turned and walked off.

As he left, Weiyu silently released the spell binding Hua Sheng.

Regaining his movement, Hua Sheng acted on impulse, grabbing the stone that had tripped him and hurling it at the retreating Tianji Zi. “Let’s see how you like this, you bastard!”

But a large bird happened to fly by, and the stone struck it with a loud smack, bringing it crashing to the ground.

Hua Sheng was stunned.

“I don’t believe this!” he exclaimed, picking up another stone and throwing it. This time, a bat flew past and was struck, and the stone ricocheted back, hitting Hua Sheng in the head.

Fuming, Hua Sheng muttered, “What kind of strange magic is he using?”

Weiyu stepped forward, crouched down, and said gently, “I told you to stop. Don’t try again.” She cradled the injured bird, stroking it until it revived and flew away, unharmed. She then did the same for the bat, which soon returned to the night sky.

Hua Sheng realized these creatures weren’t Tianji Zi’s conjurations, but living animals.

“I thought Tianji Zi was using magic to block my stones. But how could there be two animals flying by at just the right moment? What are the odds? How can this be?”

Weiyu watched the animals disappear and turned to Hua Sheng. “Now do you understand why I stopped you? Tianji Zi truly doesn’t need magic. You can’t harm him. You’ll only hurt others or yourself.”

“Because his magic is too strong? Because he’s an immortal?”

“No. Not even ordinary immortals can harm him.”

“Why? Does he have a protective artifact?” Hua Sheng was astounded—a student immune even to immortals?

“You could call it an artifact, but it’s an invisible, intangible one,” Weiyu replied.

Hua Sheng was even more confused. “What artifact? Who gave it to him?”

“No one. He was born with it.”

“Born with an untouchable, invisible artifact?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?” Hua Sheng was desperate for an answer.

Weiyu finally spoke the word he never could have guessed. “Luck.”

Hua Sheng stood with his mouth agape, disbelieving. “What? Say it again—luck?”

“Exactly. Do you know why he’s called Tianji Zi?”

“Why?”

“It means ‘Heaven’s Ultimate Fortune.’”

“So, the ultimate luck that can reach the heavens?”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Hua Sheng felt dizzy. “No, that doesn’t make sense. Are you saying even immortals have luck and misfortune?”

“Why not?”

“When someone’s luck is extraordinary, we say ‘He is aided by the gods.’ But if the gods help mortals, who helps the gods?”

“Heaven itself.”

Hua Sheng still couldn’t quite grasp it, but began to understand why the youth’s name meant “Heaven’s Ultimate.” He asked, “So, where is this ‘Heaven’ you speak of?”

“Heaven is everywhere; Heaven is the Way,” Weiyu answered.

“Then why does the Way bestow such luck upon Tianji Zi?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps it has its reasons—perhaps for this moment, perhaps for a thousand years from now. I don’t know the answer.”

“Giving such luck to someone like him—doesn’t that make Heaven unjust?”

“Everything has its cause. We don’t need to seek answers, only accept the results. The answer may not concern the present, or even the distant future. Knowing it changes nothing.”

“But it does concern the present.”

“Oh?”

“Not only does it concern the present—it’s extremely relevant.”

“In what way?”

“Because that supremely lucky fellow wants to keep me away from you,” Hua Sheng said, his expression serious.

Weiyu laughed, but asked deliberately, “If you stay away from me—what then?”

“It’s not about what will happen, but what won’t happen.”

“That sounds a bit convoluted,” Weiyu smiled.

“I never believed in immortals before, but now I do. But if there’s an invincible immortal determined to keep me from the girl I like, then I’ll trample him underfoot! If Heaven insists on giving him luck, I’ll trample Heaven itself!”

“So, are you planning to stand on your head?” Weiyu tilted her head, laughing.

“No, I’m serious! Don’t joke.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Are you telling the truth?”

“If I weren’t, would this be a dare?”

“Why say all this?”

Hua Sheng thought for a moment. “Maybe because I’m thinking about the future.”

Weiyu paused, as if suddenly recalling something dreadful. Her body started to tremble, and she crouched down abruptly.

Startled, Hua Sheng crouched beside her, realizing her teeth were chattering, and quickly asked, “Weiyu, what’s wrong?”

She shook like a fledgling caught in a biting wind, her teeth clattering audibly, sweat beading on her forehead. Soon, she couldn’t even crouch, and looked about to collapse.

“Are you cold? Don’t scare me—what’s happening?” Hua Sheng, seeing her so helpless, quickly moved to support her.

Weiyu didn’t answer, biting down on her lip until it bled.

“Should I call for help?” Hua Sheng asked anxiously.

“No,” Weiyu clung to his arm, as if it were the only straw for a drowning soul. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a moment.”

“Are you ill? You were fine a moment ago—”

Weiyu panted heavily, only after a while whispering, “I’m not sick. I just… suddenly felt unwell.”

“You don’t look well at all.”

“I’ll be alright,” Weiyu said, exhausted and nearly faint.

“Is it because of Tianji Zi?”

“No, nothing to do with the chief registrar. Stop asking. I’ll be fine soon.”

With that, Weiyu leaned on Hua Sheng to stand, wiping her face with her sleeve. But her complexion was still ghastly pale.

“You’re scaring me. I’m really worried about you,” Hua Sheng said, touching her back and finding her robe soaked through with cold sweat. He could hardly believe that the seemingly omnipotent Weiyu was now as fragile as an infant. No matter how he tried, he could not make sense of it.

Seeing his anxious face, Weiyu tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not sick—just a little tired.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Weiyu interrupted. “What you said just now…”

“What did I say?”

“You said you were thinking about the future.”

“Yes, what about it?”

“So am I right to think…”

“What?”

“To think that you’re thinking about me? About us?” Weiyu met his eyes.

“Ah? Well…” Hua Sheng realized he had let the words slip, as if his secret had been exposed, and fumbled for something to say.

“You mean you have a different sort of feeling for me.”

“Do I…?”

“You do.” Weiyu lowered her head, staring at the ground, lost in thought.

“That’s not important. I’m more worried about your health, and about Tianji Zi—how am I supposed to…”

He was being honest—he still hadn’t figured out how to break through Tianji Zi’s supreme luck. Without doing so, the youth would always be a wall between him and Weiyu.

“But it is important.” Weiyu’s weary eyes flickered with a hint of fire. She gazed at Hua Sheng and repeated, “It’s important, Hua Sheng. Because your words will change the course of our story.”