Chapter 10: The Choosing of the Young Spirit

“Whew!”
“Whew!!”

Zhu Minglang took a deep breath, his chest tight with an emotion he hadn’t felt in ages—raw, electric excitement.

No, no, no. Calm down.

Bai Qi was still in the cocoon stage. Until he emerged, Zhu Minglang remained just a lowly spirit—vulnerable, fragile. He needed a safe, quiet place to weather this transformation.

So where should he go now? The ancestral city of Zulong was unfamiliar territory…

“Sir.”
“Sir, please wait.”

Just as Zhu Minglang stood hesitating at the entrance of the Li family estate, a slender maid with delicate features called out to him.

“Me?” Zhu Minglang blinked, surprised.

“You’re Zhu Minglang, aren’t you? The Lady has sent me to deliver this academy letter to you,” the girl said softly, her voice like wind through willow branches.

Zhu Minglang’s eyes locked onto the seal on the parchment—four bold characters: **Dragon Taming Academy**.

Was this… actually happening?

A contingency plan against Luo Xiao later checking up on him?

Still, the academy *was* a solid choice. It would be perfect for hiding during Bai Qi’s metamorphosis.

Fine. School it is.

He reached out and took the heavy letter.

Admission to the Dragon Taming Academy wasn’t easy. Either you had enough gold to buy a dragon outright—or your young spirit had been certified as a potential dragonling.

It was a place of contrasts: noble heirs rubbed shoulders with commoners who’d risen through sheer wit and sharp instincts. Being a dragon rider wasn’t just for the elite. Among the masses, there were always those who leapt over the gate and soared into the sky.

“Sir,” the maid—now named Shuang’er—smiled warmly, “once you report to the Li Chuan Academy, don’t miss the Young Spirit Selection. Pick carefully. A good spirit makes all the difference.” She winked playfully.

“Thank you, Miss Shuang’er.”

“Call me Shuang’er. Just Shuang’er.”

“Thanks, Shuang’er.”

“Giggles.” Her laugh rang out like tiny bells.

With the letter in hand, Zhu Minglang climbed the stone steps toward the bustling, sun-drenched streets of the city’s Azure Stone Road. Behind him loomed the Li family’s imperial courtyard—cold, silent, guarded. Just one river bridge separated it from the lively street below.

But cross that bridge, and suddenly the air changed. Smoke curled from kitchens, laughter echoed between stalls, and faces blurred into one another. No one cared who you were here.

If you were someone who could adapt anywhere, then you could wander the world—or settle into a refined school.

A fresh start.

…

Inside the courtyard

Shuang’er, her hair tied back with a butterfly-shaped ribbon, stepped into the house. Her gaze immediately found her mistress, Li Yunzi, seated alone on a goose-down cushion.

She knew about what happened.

Out in public, Li Yunzi was the Lady—respected, admired, powerful. But here, in this garden, she was just another gentlewoman of noble birth. Even within the Li family’s inner court, they called her simply *Miss Yunzi*.

Shuang’er knew her mistress had suffered these past days—but didn’t know how to help her rise again.

“Miss,” she said, bowing slightly, “I don’t understand… How did that woman in Yongcheng find your weakness? You’ve always been so careful.”

“Someone inside the family betrayed me,” Li Yunzi replied coldly.

Why had she returned?

She knew only one person could have known her deepest flaw—the kind of flaw only a blood relative could exploit.

“What? You mean… one of our own family members is behind this?” Shuang’er gasped. “Then why haven’t you told the Head of House? If it’s a clan member trying to ruin you…”

Li Yunzi shook her head. “Telling him would only warn them.”

Shuang’er was sharp. Instantly, she understood. Her eyes widened. After a long silence, she whispered, “You suspect… Little Mistress Kong Tong?”

“Hope it’s her,” Li Yunzi murmured, distant, lost in thought.

“No wonder Luo Xiao went mad—he wiped out Yongcheng completely. The news spread like wildfire. Someone in the clan doesn’t want you in charge. But this… this is too cruel.” Shuang’er clenched her fists, fury rising.

Li Yunzi exhaled slowly.

Some people wanted her destroyed—her name ruined, her life shattered. She wouldn’t let them win.

She needed time. To gather herself. To let everything settle.

And when the moment came… every soul who had ever trampled her would pay tenfold.

“Have the star-painted autumn nan trees bloomed yet?” Li Yunzi asked quietly.

“Yes! They’re stunning. Shall we take a walk among them, Miss?”

“If she wakes up… don’t mention this,” Li Yunzi instructed gently.

“Huh?” Shuang’er froze, unsure how to respond.

Behind the courtyard rose a small hill, open to the sky. Rows of tall, sapphire-blue trees stood in perfect order—autumn nan trees, elegant and proud. Their branches burst with blossoms unique to this season, soft and silken, clinging together in dense clusters. Delicate pale-green leaves framed the flowers in neat, flowing patterns, making the whole scene look like a dream woven from mist and light.

Standing beneath them, the air thick with fragrance, Li Yunzi stared into the canopy—into the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves and branches, falling like liquid silver across the ground.

“Time has never felt so peaceful,” she whispered.

…

…

Li Chuan—the name meant the three great rivers flowing from distant mountains, feeding the vast, fertile plains, nurturing countless lives.

The Dragon Taming Academy wasn’t nestled in the heart of Zulong City. It lay further upstream, where the rivers met their source.

From the confluence of the three rivers in Zulong, follow the main river north for less than fifty kilometers—and there it stands: the magnificent Phoenix Dike.

A colossal waterfall, carved by the sudden turn of a mighty river. Millions of tons of silver-white water plunged down in a thunderous cascade. From downstream, it looked like hundreds of dragons, roaring through the sky, their scales flashing like white feathers, their tails trailing mist.

Above the falls, the river suddenly widened dozens of times over. The waters pooled, forming a rare, expansive lake. The riverbed itself began to stretch outward, creating a broad, calm expanse—unlike any other stretch of water.

And right in the middle of that lake stood the Dragon Taming Academy.

Zhu Minglang walked up the slope covered in golden autumn grass, passed the awe-inspiring Phoenix Dike, and before him unfolded a quaint, ancient town—small but packed with life. Merchants, scholars, travelers—too many to count.

At the end of the town’s final street stretched the White Rock Bridge—the gateway to the academy. At its center stood a grand copper-and-wood gate, always open. Occasionally, well-dressed youths and maidens in fine silks stepped through, laughing, chatting, heads held high.

“Hey, big brother,” a girl selling steamed peaches called out from the bridge’s edge.

Her skin was sun-kissed brown, her cheeks rosy from outdoor work. She bit into a peach, juice dripping down her chin, and wiped it off casually with the back of her hand.

“I’m here to enroll,” Zhu Minglang said, flashing a disarmingly innocent smile.

“Oh wow, I didn’t see that coming,” the peach girl said, squinting at him.

Zhu Minglang grinned wider.

“Guess you’re not *just* cute,” she added. “You’re *insane*.”

His smile froze.

He hadn’t expected a street vendor to be such a sharp-tongued little spitfire.