Opening

The sun was lovely today.

Xue Lingyun moved a chair downstairs from the Dormitory Building and sat with his back against the wall, his legs stretched out long.

The bricks paving the ground had been baked by the sun all morning and were warmly toasty; leaning back against them carried a solid kind of heat.

He draped his hands on his knees, tilted his head back slightly, and closed his eyes. Sunlight fell over his eyelids, dyeing the world before him a warm orange.

Mu En was lying as usual on the lounge chair beside him. His gray-white cloth clothes had been washed until they had faded pale, the collar hanging loose and open to reveal a stretch of gaunt collarbone.

His eyes were closed, his breathing long and slow, the rise and fall of his chest slight, like a piece of old wood dried by the wind, resting quietly at the foot of the wall.

Several bamboo slats of the lounge chair had been bent under his weight, and the cushion had sunk in at one spot—the mark of more than ten years of sitting.

The two of them just sat side by side like that.

Mu En was the first to speak.

His voice was hoarse, carrying the particular slow drawl of an old man, as if phlegm were stuck in his throat and not quite cleared away, each word pausing half a beat.

"Isn't the second year assessment today? Why didn't you go?"

Xue Lingyun didn't open his eyes. "I took it a few days ago. Full marks."

"How many is full marks?"

"One hundred and fifty."

Mu En gave an "mm." After a few breaths, he said again, "One hundred and fifty? A thousand-year Soul Beast gives a base score of one hundred, and battle technique