Out of Options

Lu Menge was thinking.

She leaned back in the rattan chair in her office, a thermos resting on her knees as her fingers tapped idly against its lid. Little White Tiger lay on the windowsill, its tail dangling down and twitching occasionally to chase away nonexistent flies.

"You think," Lu Menge suddenly said, "I should let him know?"

Little White Tiger's ears twitched, but it did not open its eyes.

"He really seems to think I'm some poor little thing. Last time, he said, 'If anyone bullies you in the future, tell me'—and he sounded serious. His eyes were sincere too. I was touched at the time, but after I came back and thought about it, something felt wrong. He genuinely thinks I'll get bullied."

Little White Tiger yawned.

"I've lived this long. Other than the laws of heaven and earth, who has ever bullied me?"

Little White Tiger buried its head beneath its paws. It had heard her go on about this question countless times—ever since the night they watched that movie, then when Wu Changkong brought her a midnight snack, and when he bought her a scarf. Every time she did something, Wu Changkong's interpretation would veer precisely away from the truth. That would have been one thing, but every single time, it veered toward the idea that "she needed protecting."

Lu Menge set the thermos on the windowsill, rose to her feet, and examined herself in the mirror. She was wearing a light gray sweater, dark blue trousers, and low-heeled ankle boots, her hair tied in a low ponytail. Very proper. Very capable.

"I'm going to let him know I'm very formidable." She spoke to her reflection with absolute conviction.

Little White Tiger finally opened its eyes. It looked at her as if asking, Are you sure?

"Wulin and Gu Yue happen to have practical class today. They're going to Spirit Pagoda to pick spirit souls. Before taking them there, I'll head to the training grounds first. Wu Changkong should be there. I'll find an excuse to have him show off his Heavenfrost Sword, then casually mention, 'I'm an eight-ring'—not deliberately, just offhandedly, like saying the weather's nice today. He's so smart, he'll definitely realize I've been keeping a low profile. Then he won't keep imagining how miserable my life is."

Little White Tiger gave a howl.

"I know eight rings aren't much to him—he's a Titled Douluo, so eight rings are indeed below him. But I'm not weak, right? At least I can't just get bullied by anyone, right?"

Little White Tiger howled again, longer this time.

"What do you mean, 'You'd better be'? Of course I am!"

Lu Menge scooped Little White Tiger off the windowsill and set it on her shoulder. She pushed open her office door and headed toward the training grounds in her low-heeled ankle boots. As she passed the field, she ran into Tang Wulin and Gu Yue.

"Come on—we're making a stop at the training grounds before I take you to Spirit Pagoda."

Tang Wulin was crouching beside a flower bed, tying his shoelaces. He looked up at her words. "What are we going to the training grounds for?"

"I need to see Teacher Wu about something. You two can just wait nearby."

Gu Yue's purple eyes lingered on her face for a second. Lu Menge pretended not to notice.

The training grounds lay in the northeastern corner of Eastsea Academy, an open-air combat practice area paved with special hard stone slabs and surrounded by simple protective barriers. Wu Changkong was indeed there. Dressed in white, he stood in the center of the grounds with the Heavenfrost Sword in hand, its tip angled toward the earth and cold mist swirling around it. Three upperclassmen stood opposite him, driven steadily backward by the pressure of his sword intent. One move. Two moves. Before the third could even come out, half of their martial souls had already been frozen.

"Enough. Go back and practice using Soul Power to protect your bodies."

The three students looked as if they had been granted amnesty. Lu Menge seized the opening and walked over from the edge of the grounds, followed by two little tails—Tang Wulin looking utterly confused, Gu Yue looking ready to enjoy the show.

"Teacher Wu—"

Wu Changkong turned around. He had not yet put away the Heavenfrost Sword, and the chill on its blade turned into fine droplets under the afternoon sunlight. When he saw Lu Menge, his gaze shifted slightly—the faint relaxation that only came after confirming she was safe and sound. Lu Menge caught that look. Before, she might have found it amusing. Today, she could only think, It's over. He's definitely wondering whether I've been wronged again.

"Teacher Lu." He sheathed his sword and walked over. "What is it?"

"It's nothing major. It's just—" Lu Menge put one hand on her hip, her tone casual. "I'm taking Wulin and Gu Yue to Spirit Pagoda today to choose spirit souls. Before we go, I wanted you to help check their Soul Power circulation. You're higher-ranked than I am—I'm afraid I might not judge it accurately, so sorry to trouble you."

She said it very naturally. The words "higher-ranked than I am" slipped from her tongue as lightly as a breath, flattering him while burying the implication of "eight rings" within them. Then she pushed Tang Wulin forward. "Go on. Let Teacher Wu check your Soul Power circulation."

Tang Wulin stumbled a step from the shove, then steadied himself and obediently activated his Soul Power. Wu Changkong turned his attention to him, extending two fingers from his left hand to rest on Tang Wulin's wrist. After sensing for a moment, he nodded slightly. "Your meridians are very clear. You've improved noticeably compared to two weeks ago."

Leaning against a piece of training equipment with her arms folded, Lu Menge spoke casually. "He forges every day. Forging is training too—I trained the same way back then. I figured out Soul Power circulation by myself, from one ring to eight rings. More or less the same path."

She placed the words "eight rings" in the middle of a string of remarks like sprinkling a grain of salt into a bowl of soup, waiting for him to taste it himself. Wu Changkong did not respond. He was checking Gu Yue's Soul Power circulation—Gu Yue expressionlessly extended a hand, let him take her pulse once, then withdrew it. Wu Changkong frowned slightly. "Your blood and qi are a little cold. Keep warm."

"...Got it," Gu Yue said. Her tone was cold, but Lu Menge noticed that she had not shaken off Wu Changkong's hand—for the Silver Dragon King, that was already an extraordinary degree of cooperation.

"Eight rings," Lu Menge mentioned again when Wu Changkong turned around, stressing the words this time.

Wu Changkong stopped and looked back at her. At last, the slightest change appeared on that glacier-like face—his lips moved faintly, as though he was confirming he had heard correctly. "Eight-ring assault type," Lu Menge said, pointing her thumb at herself with a radiant smile. "The real deal."

The training grounds fell quiet for a moment. Wu Changkong nodded once. "Then you're very impressive."

Lu Menge's fox-like eyes narrowed. His tone was too calm. It was not the surprise of You're actually that impressive, but the calm of I understand. It was even closer to a perfunctory You're right—like hearing a child boast that they could run fast, and as an adult, not having the heart to expose them, so all you could do was say, "Yes, you're very fast."

"You don't believe me," Lu Menge said.

"It's not that I don't believe you." Wu Changkong's tone remained infuriatingly level.

Lu Menge drew a deep breath and decided to bring out the big guns. She took two steps back, raised her right hand, and spread her fingers slightly. Soul Rings rose from beneath her feet one after another—eight in total, every one a purple so deep it was nearly black, flowing with profound luster beneath the sunlight. The instant her eighth Soul Ring lit up, a hazy phantom emerged behind her—the White Tiger Sacred Image. She deliberately restrained it to an extremely small area, revealing only the blurred outline of its non-combat form. A gentle white glow descended from the sacred image's mouth, like an ancient power of blessing, and everyone present felt their blood and qi warm slightly for an instant.

Then she withdrew her Soul Rings. The phantom dispersed. The entire display took no more than five seconds—clean, decisive, and beyond dispute.

"Believe me now?"

Wu Changkong fell silent for a while. He truly was thinking. Eight Soul Rings, purple and above—the configuration was exceptionally luxurious. "You mentioned your family circumstances before. You said you had no parents and had always been alone."

Lu Menge nodded. "That's right."

"Then how did you get these Soul Rings?"

"I cultivated them myself, obviously. What else could they have been—gifts from someone?" She nearly bit her tongue. She had almost let something slip.

Wu Changkong's brows drew together slightly. Cultivated them herself? Eight rings, purple quality, no family background, no sect support—an orphaned girl cultivating alone? He had seen countless geniuses and countless experts built up by resources. A configuration like Lu Menge's did not seem like something a woman in her twenties, wandering alone, could attain independently. Unless—someone had been helping her. No, that word was too mild. Someone had been raising her with an enormous amount of resources. And those resources clearly were not something she could obtain through normal means.

Wu Changkong was silent for a few seconds before suddenly speaking. "Teacher Lu."

"Hmm?"

"Back then—did someone give you a lot of supplements?"

"Huh?" Lu Menge froze.

"Given your Soul Ring configuration and the living conditions you mentioned before, it would have been difficult for you to obtain them independently." Wu Changkong spoke slowly, as if choosing every word with care. "If someone used supplements to pile up your cultivation—" He paused, seemingly feeling that the question to follow was inappropriate, but out of some deeper concern, he asked it anyway. "Were you kept by someone before?"

The training grounds fell into unprecedented silence.

Tang Wulin's mouth formed an O. Gu Yue's eyebrows nearly flew off her forehead. Little White Tiger staggered on Lu Menge's shoulder and nearly rolled off. Lu Menge's mind crashed for a full three seconds.

She had lived through endless years, experienced the war of the God Realm, witnessed the Dragon God's fall, and calmly held the Silver Dragon King across her lap to spank her in Star Dou Great Forest. But being asked by a human, "Were you kept by someone?"—that was a first in her long life.

"What did you say?" Lu Menge thought she had misheard.

Seeing her reaction, Wu Changkong became even more convinced of his judgment. She was avoiding the issue. When someone had their sore spot struck, their first reaction was to make the other person repeat it, buying time to invent an excuse.

"If it's true," his voice was low, so low that only she could hear it, "you don't need to feel ashamed. You had no other choice then. Surviving was what mattered most. Those things won't affect how I see you."

Lu Menge stood there with the expression of someone who had just had a bowl of ice cream dumped over her head—shocked, absurd, unable to laugh. Kept? Her? The Nine-Headed White Tiger? Every bone in her body was roaring—The last thing I lack is money. But she could not say that. Because she had just personally said she had no parents, no family, no sect. Her eight-ring cultivation and absurdly extravagant Soul Ring configuration were right there; an ordinary person could never save enough resources to achieve that alone. He was using his own logic to deduce the truth. And the conclusion he had reached—was that she had been kept.

"Wu Changkong." Lu Menge took a deep breath and forced her voice into the steadiest tone of her entire life. "No one kept me."

Wu Changkong looked at her. There was no disbelief in his eyes, only deeper, more restrained pain. She was still denying it. That meant the experience had been too painful for her; she would rather pretend it had never happened than admit it.

"Fine," he said.

Those three words made Lu Menge give up completely. It was not Fine, I understand. It was We won't talk about it anymore. He did not believe her at all.

"I'm heading back." She raised her right hand and beckoned Tang Wulin and Gu Yue. "You two, let's go. We're going to Spirit Pagoda. Don't spread today's matter around."

Tang Wulin nodded mechanically. A profoundly complicated emotion churned in Gu Yue's purple eyes—if Lu Menge was not mistaken, that expression seemed to say: I, the dignified Silver Dragon King, just witnessed an ancient sacred beast being asked by a mortal whether she had been kept, and I can't even tell anyone about it.

After they had walked far from the training grounds, Tang Wulin cautiously asked, "Teacher Lu... are you okay?"

"I'm great."

"Teacher Wu seemed really serious when he asked that question."

"I know."

Tang Wulin hesitated. "Then why did he think you were... being supported by someone?"

Lu Menge fell silent. The more she thought about what had happened today, the more stifled she felt. It was not as though she had not considered revealing her true form—placing the Nine-Headed White Tiger on the training grounds, all nine tails unfurled, sacred beast pressure overwhelming the heavens and earth. Wu Changkong would immediately understand what kind of existence he had been working alongside every day. But if she did that, she would lose. She had come out this time to live as an ordinary person. Once all her secrets were exposed, she would not be able to trick him into bringing her midnight snacks anymore.

Gu Yue suddenly spoke beside her. "If you reveal your true form, he won't bring you midnight snacks anymore."

Lu Menge stopped short and turned to look at Gu Yue. The girl's purple eyes were calm and still, a few strands of silver hair lifted by the wind, her face plainly saying she understood without needing it explained. Lu Menge decided to skip this topic.

"Come on. I'm taking you to Spirit Pagoda to choose spirit souls. Nobody mentions what happened today."

She strode ahead, her low-heeled ankle boots striking a hurried rhythm against the stone path. After a few steps, she softly cursed again. The curse was quiet, audible only to herself. It was less anger than a wholly unfamiliar emotion that had left her feeling unsettled from head to toe. Behind her, Gu Yue and Tang Wulin exchanged a glance, both reading the same sentence in the other's eyes: Teacher Lu had been shut down.