"This..."
Saiga blinked. He had originally wanted to say they might as well call him Mingzi, but on second thought, he worried the child might not be able to bear such a nickname.
And as Huiming, naming someone Little Ming just felt strange.
"Let's call him Ping'an."
There was a saying that cheap names were easier to raise, but at Forgetfulness River Academy, there was no need to worry about a child not surviving. So Ping'an it was. There was nothing to avoid.
"Alright... Little Ping'an, let's go."
Shi Er carried Little Ping'an toward the disciples' quarters, while Saiga walked normally to the front courtyard. It was a training ground paved with blue bricks, where the slightly older disciples, those old enough to begin cultivation, practiced the Heaven-Returning Blood Body.
And the one instructing them at the front...
"Headmaster, you're back."
Zhao Yan, formed from condensed blood, looked at Saiga with complicated eyes.
He had been promised that he could see Senior Sister one last time before his death. When he had awakened and opened his eyes, he had been filled with anticipation—only to find a bunch of little brats before him...
"Cough, cough. It can't be helped. We're the only ones at Forgetfulness River Academy who can be teachers now. Hold things down for a while. I'll be back after handing out the invitations."
What else could Zhao Yan do after Saiga put it that way?
After all, he bore the primary responsibility for Forgetfulness River Academy becoming like this, so he could only step up. Fortunately, he had plenty of experience teaching disciples. Unlike Saiga's hands-off approach, he preferred teaching them step by step. So far, the results had been quite good.
"Sorry to trouble you."
Saiga nodded at Zhao Yan.
"It's nothing..."
Zhao Yan glanced at the