Chapter Four: The Young Sovereign of the Supreme

A brilliant afternoon was drenched in sunlight. A gentle breeze caressed the face.

Passing beneath the colossal archway adorned with the sign “Academy of the Daoist Arts,” Hei Yun led Hua Sheng into the institute.

“This is the largest academy in Sheng Pingning,” Hei Yun explained. “For more than a thousand years, those holding power in Sheng Pingning—immortals, humans, and spirits—have almost all graduated from here. The immortals are, as the name suggests, celestial beings. The spirits are the essence of all things, transformed through time—such as the cat nurse you saw in the hospital, who is a spirit. As for humans, they are ordinary mortals, but even mortals in Sheng Pingning usually know some magic arts, or else life here would be rather difficult.”

On both sides of the main avenue within the academy stretched rows of ancient towering trees. Between the trees, four tall pavilions stood on each side, making eight in all. Down the center ran a wide, straight road, beside which a stone stele bore the inscription “Sacred Path of the Spiritual Heaven.” At the end of this path, a majestic mountain soared into the clouds, shrouded in mist, and if one looked closely, a grand stone pagoda could be seen atop its heights.

Everywhere in the academy, there were intricately carved beams and painted rafters, jade steps and gleaming pillars, corridors linking side halls in a landscape so exquisite that one could not help but be enchanted. The air was alive with birdsong and the fragrance of flowers at every turn. On the walkways, most of the young people wore traditional Daoist robes or Han attire; a few, like Hua Sheng, were dressed in jackets, carrying various balls and rackets for sports.

They entered a group of buildings, passing through an outdoor corridor. From nearby came the clear, melodic voices of young children reciting in unison:

“The Dao is empty, yet inexhaustible in its use; profound, it is the source of all things. It dulls sharpness, unravels confusion, tempers the glare, merges with the dust.”

Drawn by the chanting, Hua Sheng glanced over and saw that the wooden doors and windows beside the corridor were open. Seated inside on the floor were two or three dozen boys and girls, all about five or six years old, dressed in Han garments. Their eyes were bright, their posture upright, each holding a bamboo scroll and reading with rapt attention.

“These children have only just started their schooling,” Hei Yun said softly. “All descendants of the immortals, humans, and spirits must first study the classics of a hundred schools. Only after forming a strong foundation do they begin to learn magical arts in secondary school.”

Just then, a group of children about six or seven years old, wearing child-sized academy uniforms, filed neatly past them in a line. The sight was so endearing that Hua Sheng couldn’t help but turn around for another look.

Hei Yun remarked, “Now I’ll take you to the registrar’s office to handle your admission. The academy provides dormitories, so you can settle in first.”

The procedure was surprisingly simple. The staff at the registrar’s office produced a brand-new student pass, scanned Hua Sheng’s face as one might with a phone, and instantly, his photo and details appeared on the pass. The whole process took less than fifteen minutes, and Hua Sheng received a stack of new books and a cross-body cloth satchel.

He leafed through the student handbook, marveling at some of the rules, such as:

“Chapter 1, Article 3: Students are forbidden from flying at high speeds within the academy.”

“Chapter 3, Article 5: Unless the circumstances are egregious, do not use any offensive spell against fellow students.”

“Chapter 3, Article 8: Within the academy, immortals, humans, and spirits should interact in human form. Immortals and spirits must present themselves in an age-appropriate guise and must not use illusions to falsify their identity, age, or species.”

Hua Sheng was both amazed and bewildered. If knowledge of magical arts was required for admission, he doubted he truly met the standard. Yet since his life had been saved by others, he could only grit his teeth and take things one step at a time. Besides, this was no place for ordinary mortals, and to have the chance to witness such wonders was itself a stroke of ancestral good fortune.

After leaving the registrar’s office, Hei Yun pointed to the east. “That’s about all for today. The student dormitories are over there. Just follow your student pass to the appropriate grade and room. The new term starts in a few days—you’ll be in the tenth grade, which is like the first year of high school. You’ll have classmates from all three races, so make some friends.”

From his sleeve, Hei Yun produced a rectangular bronze mirror. “This is your Ruihua Treasure Mirror, the newest model.”

Hua Sheng took the mirror, finding its craftsmanship exquisite. The front was smooth and polished, while the reverse was engraved with dragons and phoenixes. Looking into it, his reflection was clear and clean.

“Does everyone here receive a mirror? Is it to remind us to keep up appearances?”

“It’s not for admiring yourself! The Ruihua Treasure Mirror is Sheng Pingning’s communication device. You’ve used a mobile phone, right? It works much the same, and the new model is even easier. Also, if you need to spend money, there’s a wallet inside the mirror. At the start of every month, the Ministry of Households deposits your allowance—enough for daily life, and your tuition is taken care of. When paying, just wave your palm at the shop’s mirror. No need to worry about it.”

With everything so neatly arranged, much of Hua Sheng’s anxiety faded away.

“I have work to do, so I must go,” Hei Yun said as he prepared to leave. Suddenly he turned back. “One more thing—be careful. Not everyone in Sheng Pingning welcomes mortals like you. As a recent transfer, you’ll need to be cautious.”

Hua Sheng nodded carefully. After bidding farewell, he slung his satchel and strolled east.

Everywhere, picturesque bridges spanned streams, and elegant pavilions and towers dotted the gardens, as if he had wandered into an imperial park at the height of beauty. Unfamiliar flowers bloomed, and butterflies fluttered in dazzling colors.

Nearby, a few girls, clearly students, sat on stone benches discussing poetry over open books. Not far away, a group of male students had stacked dozens of teacups on a stone table; one of them chanted an incantation, causing the cups to rise in a long formation. Suddenly, the tower toppled, but another boy’s hands flashed out and caught every cup before it shattered, his speed astonishing. Laughter erupted, and one of them shouted, “You’re buying tea tomorrow!”

Enchanted by the gardens, Hua Sheng lingered far longer than expected. The books and materials, though thick, felt weightless in his satchel, which explained how he’d lost track of time.

By the time he realized the sun was setting, he hurried toward the dormitory area. Perhaps because the academy grounds were so vast, most of the dorms were two-story buildings in the Huizhou architectural style—white walls, black tiles, wooden beams, and stone, all arranged with stately elegance. Ornate wood and stone carvings adorned the buildings, and to the west, a tranquil lake mirrored the scene. With the sunset casting its glow across the water and the architecture, it looked like a watercolor painting come to life.

Beside the lake stood a stone stele inscribed in red: “Lake of Enchantment.” The name spoke well to Hua Sheng’s mood.

His dormitory was close to the lake, and as he congratulated himself on the luck of being assigned such a beautiful spot, he caught sight of a striking, long-haired youth reclining on the roof tiles of the second story. The boy seemed about his own age, reading a book in the golden light.

Hua Sheng watched for a while but couldn’t figure out how the youth had gotten onto the roof. Confirming the room number, he called up, “Excuse me, fellow student—no, brother, is this the academy’s dormitory?”

The youth continued reading, oblivious.

Maybe he couldn’t hear me? Hua Sheng took a few steps closer and called again.

Still no response.

Surely not…? Hua Sheng put down his satchel and, jumping up and down, shouted, “Hey! You up there—gentleman on the beam!”

At last, the youth glanced down, closed his book, and stood up. The roof tiles rustled beneath his feet, and Hua Sheng worried the whole thing would collapse.

Standing now, the youth’s tall, elegant figure became apparent—refined features, a Daoist robe of pale green embroidered with blue clouds, a purple-gold belt at his waist, and, on his left ear, a glinting earring with two silver sword-shaped pendants.

He strolled to the edge of the roof and looked down, as if he might fall at any moment.

Hua Sheng’s scalp tingled in alarm. “Wait! Stop! Be careful!”

The youth smiled mischievously and slowly raised his right foot.

“Hey! Watch out! Stop, stop, stop, stop!” Hua Sheng shouted.

The youth slowly set down his right foot, his face all mischief, then raised his left foot instead.

“Hey, hey! Stop!” Hua Sheng yelled again.

With a burst of laughter, the youth leaped from the roof, his sleeves billowing as he soared through the air.

“Ah!” Instinctively, Hua Sheng raised his hands to catch him, only to stumble and land face-first in the dirt.

As the youth seemed about to crash to the ground, he suddenly stopped, suspended in midair, his toes less than half a meter from the earth, sleeves settling with the force of gravity. He looked at Hua Sheng, who was sprawled on the ground, clutching his head and covered in dust.

The youth brought his hands to his ears, removing a pair of wireless earbuds. “Forgive me, forgive me—I was listening to music. That new boy group from the mortal world, ‘BRAVE,’ and the girl group ‘HOPE,’ are so full of energy. Especially HOPE’s ‘Battle Song of the Cosmos,’ ‘Shape of Hope,’ ‘The Cross of Silence,’ and ‘Morning Morning Call!’ I was so absorbed I didn’t notice your arrival—my apologies!” He cupped his hands in a courteous gesture. “May I ask where you’re from, fellow student? How may I address you?”

Still on the ground, Hua Sheng managed a respectful gesture in return.

“And by the way, it’s not very polite to call someone a gentleman on the beam!” the youth teased.

Hua Sheng scrambled up, dusting himself off. “Sorry! My name is Hua Sheng—I’ve just arrived in Sheng Pingning. This is my first day at the academy.”

“Judging by your radiant forehead and star-like eyes, your future is sure to be bright. A pleasure to meet you!” The youth floated gently to the ground. “I am Tai Shang Xiao Jun.”

“Tai Shang Xiao Jun? That sounds like an online name?”

“Ah, that’s true—it is my username. But everyone’s called me that since I was little. It stuck.”

“So what’s your real name?”

“My full name is: The Great Clarity of the One Qi Transforming Into Three Pure Ones, Residing in the Grand Crimson Heaven, Ascending to the Supreme Clarity, Formed by the Primordial Energy, Sun God, Treasure Lord, Dao Virtue Celestial Honor, and the Primordial Spirit Emperor.”

“What?” Hua Sheng dug his finger in his ear, thinking he’d misheard.

“The Great Clarity of the One Qi Transforming Into Three Pure Ones, Residing in the Grand Crimson Heaven, Ascending to the Supreme Clarity, Formed by the Primordial Energy, Sun God, Treasure Lord, Dao Virtue Celestial Honor, and the Primordial Spirit Emperor,” the youth repeated, more slowly. “Did you catch that?”

“That’s your real name?”

“Exactly.”

“And your family members are also named that?”

“They have to be! Otherwise, how could we be a family? Strictly speaking, we’re not a family of humans, but a family of immortals.” Tai Shang Xiao Jun laughed. “My grandfather’s full name is The Great Clarity of the One Qi Transforming Into Three Pure Ones, Residing in the Grand Crimson Heaven, Ascending to the Supreme Clarity, Formed by the Primordial Energy, Sun God, Treasure Lord, Dao Virtue Celestial Honor, and the Primordial Supreme Emperor. Among immortals, he’s called the Celestial Lord of Supreme Clarity and Dao Virtue, but mortals know him as the Grand Supreme Elder Lord.”

Hua Sheng’s eyes widened. No wonder the name Tai Shang Xiao Jun sounded so familiar. “Wait, your grandfather is…”

Tai Shang Xiao Jun flicked the dust from his book, which Hua Sheng now saw was old—the corners of its navy cover curled, the pages yellowed with age. The title, written in four characters, read: “The Source of All Methods.”

With a snap of his fingers and a mysterious smile, the youth declared, “My name is Tai Shang Xiao Jun. The Grand Supreme Elder Lord is my grandfather!”