Chapter 43

By the time they returned to Eastsea Academy, it was already evening. The setting sun filtered through the tops of the ginkgo trees beside the training ground, dyeing the entire tree-lined path golden. Tang Wulin and Gu Yue walked side by side at the back of the Class Zero group, neither saying a word. Gu Yue had been unhappy ever since they left the hunting grounds. More precisely, she had barely spoken since her conversation with that Darkgolden Terrorclaw Bear. It was not because the Darkgolden Terrorclaw Bear had been too badly injured—it had already recovered more than halfway under Gu Yue's Origin Force healing. Nor was it because of Lu Menge's on-the-spot critique—no matter how blunt Sister Lu was, Gu Yue had never taken it to heart. What she cared about was the look in the Darkgolden Terrorclaw Bear's eyes at the end. Those dark golden eyes had held fear, reverence, and a faint but utterly impossible-to-hide sense of—estrangement.

As she walked, Gu Yue gradually slowed down. Tang Wulin slowed as well and turned to look at her. He still said nothing, but shifted a few inches closer to her. Their shoulders did not touch; he was simply nearer.

"I'm going to the forging room." When they reached a fork in the road, Gu Yue suddenly stopped and said that without preamble, then turned toward the forging room. Tang Wulin stood where he was, watching her shadow stretch and shrink beneath the ginkgo trees. What was she going to the forging room for? He had already tempered the tip of her Ice Spear last time; it did not need maintenance. She wanted to be alone. He understood that, but he was not sure whether he should give her some quiet or catch up to her. After standing there for several seconds, he turned and ran in the opposite direction.

The teachers' dormitory. Lu Menge was curled up in a rattan chair, flipping through Class Zero's physical fitness test forms for next week. A thermos sat on the windowsill, while Little White Tiger was curled up on her lap, dozing. Someone knocked on the door—three rapid knocks, though the force behind them was restrained, as if the person knocking was afraid of waking someone. Lu Menge set down the test forms and tilted her head toward the door. She recognized that rhythm—it was not Wu Changkong. Wu Changkong never knocked in a hurry. It was Tang Wulin.

"Come in. It's unlocked."

Tang Wulin pushed the door open. His hair was slightly mussed by the wind, the zipper on his school uniform jacket was not fully pulled up, and he looked as though he had run all the way here. His expression was complicated. His brows were furrowed, his lips parted and then closed again, and his hand rubbed against his pant leg—one of his little habits whenever he was nervous. Lu Menge picked up her thermos and leisurely took a sip, her fox-like eyes watching him over the rim.

"Sister Lu—Gu Yue isn't very happy. It was that Darkgolden Terrorclaw Bear at the hunting grounds today—the look in its eyes when it looked at her." He took a deep breath and continued, "What Gu Yue cares about isn't that she almost got hurt, or how strong the Darkgolden Terrorclaw Bear was. She cares that it was afraid of her. It has dragon blood in it, and instinctively recognized the suppression of her bloodline—but she doesn't want it to fear her. When the hunting exercise ended and she pulled her hand away from its claw, her fingers were trembling. No one else could tell. I was close."

Lu Menge set the thermos on the coffee table and studied the boy before her seriously. Then she smiled. It was not her usual lazy, unruffled smile, but the kind that said, "You finally asked the right question."

"What do you think she needs?"

Tang Wulin straightened, speaking one word at a time. "She needs someone to tell her she isn't a monster."

"Then what are you still doing here?" Lu Menge leaned forward and poked a finger into his chest. One poke for each word, not hard, yet every word seemed to strike like a drumbeat. "Go comfort her. Comfort her properly. She's in the forging room—she's got the Ice Spear tip you forged for her sitting on the maintenance bench, and she's there all alone without even a kitten beside her. Go in there now, stand beside her, don't ask what she's thinking, and just tell her, 'You're not a monster. You're Gu Yue.' Then hug her. Pull her out before she wraps herself up in those cold dragon scales—and then make a Dragon God with her!"

Tang Wulin's ears had already turned bright red when Lu Menge said "hug her." By the time he heard "make a Dragon God," his entire head looked ready to smoke. Yet he did not argue, nor did he lower his head and dodge away like he usually did when teased. The embarrassment remained in his eyes, but he was utterly serious.

"I—"

He did not get to finish. A hand reached out from behind Lu Menge and tapped the top of her head, neither too hard nor too lightly. It was not a real hit; the force was just enough to cut off the latter half of her excited speech. It was a long, clean hand with distinct knuckles and thin calluses on the web between thumb and forefinger from years of holding a sword. Lu Menge covered her head and looked up. At some point, Wu Changkong had appeared behind the rattan chair, holding the Class Zero practical combat lesson records he had just finished reviewing. He looked down at her, his eternally glacial face devoid of any extra expression.

"They're still minors."

Lu Menge covered her head and glared at him. "Why did you hit me? I'm telling the truth—they're both direct descendants of the Dragon God. What's wrong with making a Dragon God—"

"The problem is that they're minors."

"They can get engaged first if they're young—"

"Teacher Lu." Wu Changkong did not hit her again. He merely tucked the record board under his arm, lowered his eyes to look at her, and spoke in exactly the same tone he used when reviewing training logs. "I have never interfered with your strategy meetings with Gu Yue. But if you bring up reproductive goals to minors again, I'll have you lead Class Zero's practical combat lesson tomorrow—all day, without a break in the middle."

Lu Menge opened her mouth, then swallowed the words, "I was already leading practical combat lessons." She had known Wu Changkong long enough to understand when he was being sarcastic and when he was actually warning her. Right now, his icy blue eyes clearly said—keep talking, and tomorrow she would not even dare look through the training plan. She leaned back in the rattan chair, rubbing the nonexistent bump on her forehead as she muttered, "Fine, fine, you're the chief instructor, so you make the call. The strategist position is suspended—happy now?"

Wu Changkong withdrew his gaze and turned to Tang Wulin. Tang Wulin reflexively stood straighter. That look was not criticizing him; it was more like confirming whether Lu Menge had led him astray just now.

"The first half of what Sister Lu said was right. Go to the forging room and keep her company. But the latter half—wait until you're an adult before talking about it."

Tang Wulin nodded heavily and turned to run off. Lu Menge watched his back disappear through the doorway, then looked up at Wu Changkong standing beside the rattan chair. She pressed her lips together several times before managing to suppress her smile. Lowering her voice so only the two of them could hear, she said, "You said, 'Wait until you're adults before talking about it'—not 'No.' That means it's fine after they become adults." She raised her thermos to hide the fox-like smile at the corner of her lips. "Teacher Wu, I heard that."

Wu Changkong did not answer. He turned and walked toward the door, then stopped after a few steps. Without looking back, his voice remained as cool as ever. "Remember to submit next week's training plan early."

Lu Menge set her thermos on the coffee table and shook her head at his straight back. One played the bad cop while the other played the good cop—she had been enjoying her role as the good cop, only for him to chop down her antics from behind. But that chop had not hurt at all. Instead, his words made some corner of her heart quietly soften. Wait until they were adults before talking about it. She lowered her head and smiled, reaching out to rub Little White Tiger's head. Fine, then she would wait for those two little brats to grow up first.

When Tang Wulin pushed open the forging room door, Gu Yue was sitting in front of the maintenance bench. The Ice Spear tip he had forged for her lay on the bench, beside a small bottle of tempering fluid and a soft cloth. She was not doing anything. She merely sat there, her fingers resting on the silver dragon pattern on the spear tip. Her black hair fell across half her face, and the furnace fire reflected on her profile, making her expression difficult to see clearly. When the door opened, she did not look up. Her fingers simply moved away from the silver dragon pattern and rested lightly on her knee.

Tang Wulin did not call out to her, nor did he ask what she was thinking. He merely walked from the doorway to the maintenance bench and sat on the small stool beside her—the spot where Gu Yue usually sat when he forged, though today he had taken it. Then he reached out and took the hand resting on her knee. He did not grab her wrist or brush her fingertips. His palm pressed against hers, his fingers slid through the spaces between hers, and he gently clasped her hand. Gu Yue's eyelashes flickered. Outside, the sky had already gone completely dark.

"You're not a monster," Tang Wulin said. His voice was quiet, but every word was firm. "You're Gu Yue. You're the Silver Dragon King, Class Zero's elemental controller, the person I know will be exactly where she needs to be every time I shout, 'Cover me,' without even having to look back." He paused, his fingers tightening slightly around hers, then said something that was not part of Lu Menge's suggested comforting script. "You're my partner. You always have been."

The furnace crackled several times. The flames leaped high, then fell back down. Gu Yue remained silent for a long time. Then her fingers moved ever so slightly in Tang Wulin's palm—not pulling away, but turning over to clasp his hand instead. Her palm was a little cool, but steady. She turned to look at him, her black eyes shimmering in the furnace light.

"...Partner." She repeated the word, her tone still as cool as usual, but the faintest curve lifted at the corner of her lips. "Your heart rate still hasn't completely settled from running over here. You don't need to run next time—I wasn't crying. I was just thinking that when the Darkgolden Terrorclaw Bear recognized me at the end, it was clearly afraid of me, yet it did not run away. What it feared was the Silver Dragon King, not Gu Yue." She pushed the spear tip half an inch toward him. The dragon pattern on the spear flashed briefly in the firelight. "While I was sitting here, it flickered on the dragon pattern—it was the Golden Dragon King blood and vitality you mixed in while engraving it, activated by my soul power. When this spear was tempered, both the Golden Dragon King's blood and vitality and the Silver Dragon King's Origin Force were tempered into its material. Gold and silver, fire and ice—things that should never have been able to coexist. It told me I'm not a monster. Then you came."

Tang Wulin watched her push the spear tip toward him. He said nothing. He simply released the hand she had been clasping, stood up, stepped in front of her, and stretched out his arms to pull her from the small stool into his embrace. Gu Yue stumbled from the tug, her forehead bumping into the hollow of his shoulder, just as awkwardly as when he had brought her the spear tip after tempering it last time. He tightened his arms and gently rested his chin on the top of her head. His heart was beating unbelievably fast, palpable even through their combat uniforms, yet the arm around her waist was steadier than when he had held her hand. She was no longer trembling. Her fingers clutched the fabric at his back as she buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Furnace light flickered around their feet.

A faint footstep sounded outside the door, followed immediately by another, and then the footsteps fled in panic. Xie Xie had originally come to ask Tang Wulin about next week's practical combat groupings. He took one look through the window, turned around, and ran. Gu Yue heard that frantic retreat from Tang Wulin's arms but did not look up. She slowly loosened the fingers gripping his back, then caught his collar and tugged him a little closer. "Last time, you said you would always call my name—not in practical combat class. Call it now."

"Gu Yue."

She closed her eyes and answered softly, then released his collar and pushed him half a step toward the door. "We're going to the cafeteria together tomorrow. Don't be late."

Tang Wulin did not leave immediately when he reached the door. He fumbled through his pocket and pulled out a small object—a tiny silver dragon-shaped earring. He spread it on his palm and held it out to her. "I bought it at the snack street last time. I was going to give it to you on your birthday, but I stopped by the dormitory and got it just now."

Gu Yue lowered her eyes to the earring. She took it and placed it in her palm, then gently closed her fingers around it. She still remembered that stall selling silver jewelry. She had only looked at it a few extra times and said nothing. This earring told her—he had always been watching, always remembering. She clenched the earring, did not look up, and merely reached out to lightly press his palm before opening the door and leaving him and the furnace fire behind.

Tang Wulin stood where he was and watched her back disappear at the end of the corridor. He curled the fingers that still held the trace of her touch, then lowered his head and smiled.

Behind a flower bed not far from the forging room door, Xie Xie was crouching in the bushes with a hand pressing down on Zhang Yangzi's shoulder. He lowered his voice as though plotting a crime. "I told you he went back especially to buy something at the snack street last time—if he hadn't gone after her, I'd eat the Light Dragon Dagger!" Zhang Yangzi was being dragged so hard that he crouched crookedly, but his tone remained as calm as if he were analyzing a tactical manual. "You couldn't eat it. When he stood up by the window just now, he knocked over the stool. It was loud. Gu Yue didn't push him away—the first push was to create distance so she could talk to him, and the second was to send him back to the dormitory to rest. The two pushes were different, and you haven't even analyzed the difference before wanting to eat a dagger?" Xie Xie did not respond. He flopped down into the grass and sighed at the sky. "We were all trained in the same practical combat class, so why are we still practicing position changes while those two are already practicing mutual understanding?" Zhang Yangzi stood up and brushed grass clippings from his knees, giving him an irrefutable answer. "Because you only have one dagger, while the materials he uses to temper his forged weapons are Golden Dragon King blood and vitality plus Silver Dragon King Origin Force."