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 field, dyeing the entire tree-lined path golden. Tang Wulin and Gu Yue walked side by side at the back of Class Zero's group, neither of them speaking. Gu Yue had been in a bad mood ever since they left the hunting grounds. More precisely, she had barely said a word since her conversation with the Darkgolden Terrorclaw Bear. It was not because the Darkgolden Terrorclaw Bear had been badly injured—it had already recovered for the most part under Gu Yue's Origin Force. Nor was it because of Lu Menge's on-site critique—no matter how blunt Sister Lu was, Gu Yue had never taken it to heart. What bothered her was the look in the Darkgolden Terrorclaw Bear's eyes at the end. Those dark-gold eyes had held fear, reverence, and a faint but utterly undisguisable—distance.

As they 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." At a fork in the road, Gu Yue suddenly stopped and said that without preamble, then turned and headed 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 do in the forging room? 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 a few seconds, he turned and ran in the opposite direction.

Teachers' dormitory. Lu Menge was curled up in a wicker chair, flipping through Class Zero's physical fitness test schedule for next week. A thermos rested on the windowsill, while the Little White Tiger dozed curled up on her lap. Then came a knock at the door—three knocks, hurried but restrained, as though the person knocking was afraid of disturbing someone. Lu Menge put down the schedule 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 a little messy from the wind, the zipper on his school 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 drawn together, his lips parted and then closed again, and his hand rubbed against his pant leg—a small habit he only had when nervous. Lu Menge lifted her thermos and took an unhurried sip, her fox-like eyes watching him over the rim.

"Sister Lu—Gu Yue isn't very happy. It was today at the hunting grounds, when that Darkgolden Terrorclaw Bear—it was 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 nearly got hurt, nor how strong the Darkgolden Terrorclaw Bear was. She cares that it was afraid of her. It has dragon blood mixed into its body and instinctively recognized the suppression from her bloodline—but she didn't want it to fear her. When the hunting exercise ended and she pulled her hand back from its terrorclaw, her fingers were shaking. No one else could see it. I was close."

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

"What do you think she needs?"

Tang Wulin straightened and said, word by word, "She needs someone to tell her that she isn't a monster."

"Then what are you still doing here?" Lu Menge leaned forward and poked him in the chest with her index finger. One poke per word. The force was light, but every word struck like a beat on a drum. "Go comfort her. Comfort her hard. She's in the forging room— the Ice Spear tip you forged for her is still on the maintenance table. She's sitting there alone, and there isn't even a kitten beside her. Go in there now, stand beside her, and don't ask what she's thinking. Just tell her, 'You aren't a monster. You're Gu Yue.' Then hug her. Pull her out before she wraps herself in cold dragon scales—and then win her over, for the Dragon God's sake!"

Tang Wulin's ears had already turned bright red when Lu Menge mentioned hugging her. By the time he heard "for the Dragon God's sake," his whole head looked ready to steam. But he did not argue, nor did he lower his head and avoid her gaze as he had whenever he was teased before. The embarrassment remained in his eyes, but he was utterly serious.

"I—"

He did not finish. A hand reached out from behind Lu Menge and tapped the top of her head, neither lightly nor heavily. It was not a real hit; the force was just enough to cut off the rest of her excited speech. It was a long, clean hand with distinct knuckles and thin calluses at the base of the thumb from wielding a sword year-round. Lu Menge held her head and looked up. Wu Changkong had appeared behind the wicker chair at some point, holding the Class Zero practical combat lesson log he had just finished reviewing. He looked down at her, and there was not a trace of excess emotion on his eternal glacier-like face.

"They're still minors."

Lu Menge held her head and glared at him. "Why did you hit me? I'm telling the truth—they're direct descendants of the Dragon God's bloodline. What's wrong with them having 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 tap her again. He merely tucked the record board beneath 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 targets to minors again, I'll have you lead Class Zero's practical combat lesson tomorrow—the entire day, without a break in the middle."

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

Wu Changkong withdrew his gaze and turned to Tang Wulin. Tang Wulin reflexively straightened. That look was not reproachful; it was more like he was making sure Tang Wulin had not been led astray by Lu Menge.

"The first half of what your Sister Lu said was right. Go to the forging room and keep her company. But the second half—save that for after you come of age."

Tang Wulin nodded hard and turned to run off. Lu Menge watched his figure disappear through the doorway, then looked up at Wu Changkong standing beside the wicker chair. She pressed her lips several times before managing to suppress her smile. Lowering her voice until only the two of them could hear, she said, "You said, 'save that for after you come of age'—not 'no.' That means it's fine after they come of age." She lifted her thermos to hide the fox-like smile at her lips. "Teacher Wu, I heard you."

Wu Changkong did not reply. He turned and walked toward the door, but after a few steps, he stopped. Without looking back, his voice remained as eternally cold 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-backed figure. One played the good cop, the other the bad cop—she was having a grand time playing the good cop, and he came up behind her to chop at her hand. But that chop had not hurt at all. Instead, his words made a corner of her heart quietly soften. Save that for after they come of age. She lowered her head and smiled, reaching out to rub the Little White Tiger's head. Fine. Then she would wait for those two little brats to come of age first.

When Tang Wulin pushed open the door to the forging room, Gu Yue was sitting in front of the maintenance table. On it lay the Ice Spear tip he had forged for her, beside a small bottle of tempering fluid and a soft cloth. She was not doing anything. She simply sat there with her fingers resting on the Silver Dragon Mark on the spear tip. Her black hair fell over half her face, and the furnace fire reflected off her profile, making her expression difficult to see clearly. When the door opened, she did not look up. Her fingers merely left the Silver Dragon Mark and came to rest lightly on her knee.

Tang Wulin did not call out to her or ask what she was thinking. He simply walked from the doorway to the maintenance table and sat on the low stool beside her—the seat Gu Yue normally used while he forged, though today he was the one sitting there. Then he reached out and took the hand resting on her knee. Not by the wrist, not by brushing her fingertips. His palm pressed to hers, his fingers slipped between hers, and he gently clasped them together. Gu Yue's eyelashes trembled. Outside, night had fully fallen.

"You aren't a monster," Tang Wulin said. His voice was low, but he enunciated every word firmly. "You're Gu Yue. You're the Silver Dragon King, Class Zero's elemental controller, and the person I know will be there whenever I shout, 'Cover me,' without even needing to look back." He paused, his grip on her hand tightening slightly, before adding something outside the comfort script Lu Menge had given him. "You're my partner. You always have been."

The furnace crackled a few times, its flames surging higher before sinking again. Gu Yue was silent for a long time. Then her fingers moved ever so lightly in Tang Wulin's palm—not pulling away, but turning over to clasp his hand in return. Her palm was cool, but steady. She turned to look at him, her black eyes glittering in the firelight.

"...Partner." She repeated the word. Her tone remained as cool as usual, but the corners of her lips rose in the faintest curve. "Your heart rate hasn't fully settled from running 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 mark on its shaft flashed for an instant in the firelight. "When I was sitting here just now, it flashed on the dragon mark—the Golden Dragon King blood essence you mixed in when you engraved it was activated by my Soul Power. During tempering, this spear's material was infused with both Golden Dragon King blood essence and the Silver Dragon King Origin. Gold and silver, fire and ice—things that should never have been able to coexist. It told me that I'm not a monster. Then you came."

Tang Wulin watched her push the spear tip toward him and said nothing. He simply released the hand she had been clasping, stood, walked in front of her, and stretched out his arms to pull her from the low stool into his embrace. Gu Yue staggered from the tug, her forehead bumping into the hollow of his shoulder with the exact same awkwardness 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 pounding wildly, so hard she could feel it even through his combat uniform, 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 on his back, and she buried her face against his shoulder, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. The furnace light flickered around their feet.

A very soft set of footsteps sounded outside the door, followed by another, and then the footsteps fled in panic. Xie Xie had come to ask Tang Wulin about next week's practical combat groupings, but after taking one look through the window, he turned around and ran. Gu Yue heard that hasty retreat from within Tang Wulin's arms but did not lift her head. She merely slowly loosened the hand gripping his back, then seized his collar and pulled him several inches closer. "Last time, you said you would keep calling my name in the future—not in practical combat class. Say it now."

"Gu Yue."

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

Tang Wulin retreated to the door but did not leave immediately. He rummaged 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 dorm to get it just now."

Gu Yue lowered her head to look at the earring. She took it and placed it in her palm, then gently curled her fingers around it. She still remembered that stall selling silver jewelry. She had merely looked at it a few more times and said nothing. This earring told her—he had been watching, and he had remembered. She tightened her grip on the earring without looking up. She simply reached out and lightly pressed his palm, then opened the door, leaving him and the furnace fire behind.

Tang Wulin stood where he was, watching her back disappear around the end of the corridor. He flexed the fingers that still retained her touch, then lowered his head and smiled.

Behind a flower bed not far from the forging room, Xie Xie was crouching in the bushes with one hand pressing down on Zhang Yangzi's shoulder. His voice was lowered like a thief's. "I told you he deliberately doubled back at the snack street last time to buy something—if he didn't chase after her, I'd eat the Light Dragon Dagger!" Zhang Yangzi was dragged into an awkward crouch, one shoulder tilted, but his tone remained as calm as though 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 ask him something, while the second was to send him back to the dorm to rest. The two pushes were different, and you haven't even analyzed the difference before talking about eating a dagger?" Xie Xie did not respond. He flopped back into the grass and sighed at the sky. "We were all trained in the same practical combat class, so why are we still practicing switching positions while those two are already practicing mutual understanding?" Zhang Yangzi stood and patted the grass clippings from his knees, giving him an irrefutable answer. "Because you only have one dagger, while the materials he used to temper his forged weapons are Golden Dragon King blood essence plus Silver Dragon King Origin."