Acceptance Letter

But lately, Zheng Qing hadn't had the time to care about that ungrateful little dog.

The college entrance exam results were already out. His score had reached the first-tier university threshold, but the admission letter hadn't arrived yet, so his family had been paying close attention to the old woman at the gatehouse these past few days. After all, all the mail in this residential area was handled by that elderly lady.

Although things generally don't develop according to people's habitual thinking, sometimes even if you use leap-of-logic thinking, you still can't understand why things turned out this way.

That morning, after Zheng Qing got out of bed, he skillfully reached over to scratch Poseidon, who was curled up by his pillow.

Even though it was a little white dog, it had many light blue stripes against the white base, very much like waves on the ocean. Zheng Qing had thought about it all night and given it a resounding name—Poseidon!

But today, instead of touching that soft little thing he usually felt, his hand landed on something stiff. Opening his sleepy eyes, Zheng Qing was startled for a moment, then sat up in surprise.

What lay before Zheng Qing was a letter.

To be precise, it was a letter that came from nowhere—no stamp, no postmark, no postal code.

The kraft paper envelope felt thick and comfortable to the touch. The back of the envelope was sealed with red sealing wax, stamped with a circle containing a triangular prism emblem.

On the front of the envelope, bold red characters in the Yan style stood out clearly and crisply:

Pingyang City Yunhua Residential Area, Jiefang Road Smallest Bedroom, Unit 3, Building 7, Room 201 To Student Zheng Qing

Zheng Qing immediately looked up at a sword hanging on his bookshelf—steady, no sign of anything unusual. Rolling out of bed, he rushed to the living room. In the incense burner beneath the Ancestral Tablet, the wisp of blue smoke wavered as peacefully as ever. He inspected every corner of the room—whether the thin talisman paper pasted above the doorframe or the heavy talismans carved at the base of the windows, all remained intact, unmoved.

Washing his hands, he pulled a yellow talisman paper from his gray Talisman Bag. Zheng Qing chanted a long incantation, then watched as the talisman slowly drifted down onto the envelope.

Nothing happened.

Zheng Qing felt like he'd just acted like a lunatic.

Probably not something unclean, he thought with a curl of his lip. Maybe his parents had left it by his pillow before heading out this morning?

Impossible. He quickly dismissed that idea. If his parents had received an envelope with such a bizarre address, it would never have ended up in his hands.

Carefully tearing open the envelope, a large admission letter came into view. The cover still bore that triangular prism emblem inside a circle, with four bold characters written in rounded ancient seal script:

First University

To the lower right of the ancient seal script was a line of smaller running-regular script: "Learning without thought is labor lost; thought without learning is perilous."

Opening the letter, the left side featured eight neatly written small regular-script characters: "There is a path to the mountain of books, and no end to the sea of learning," carrying a certain grandeur.

On the other side, the small print at the top clearly stated:

'This institution is a key institution of higher education approved by the Ministry of Education to recruit students for higher academic qualifications.'

Below that was standard Song-style typeface:

Student Zheng Qing:

It is our honor to inform you that you have been admitted to the Astronomy Department of Jiuyou Academy, First University, for a four-year program.

Candidate Number: 08043203119 Issue Number: 20080010007

First University July 28, 2008

In the blank space was also a red emblem—a ring containing a flowing character for "culture."

Beneath the admission letter was a pale yellow card, which read: "Please reply within one week of the letter's arrival. An interviewer will contact you within twenty-four hours and guide you on what to prepare. Other needs can be discussed with the interviewer."

Accompanying the admission letter was a ticket voucher for a flight departing from Chang'an Afang Airport on September 1st. Also included was a full scholarship certificate, covered in a jumble of colorful stamps—reds and greens that dazzled the eyes.

Finally, there was an A4-sized, bluish-white blank stiff card.

His parents had both gone to work, leaving Zheng Qing alone at home. Holding this inexplicable letter, he looked somewhat skeptical. After all, he knew his own situation well. He clearly remembered the three universities he had applied to: first choice, Imperial Capital University; second choice, Western University; third choice, the Normal University near his home. All his applications were for finance majors.

When had he ever applied to this university?

But the name was correct, and the candidate number was correct—all his own. There was no mistake there.

Jiuyou Academy, Astronomy Department? Was that part of Astronomy Studies? But he didn't recall seeing this major in the application guide. And with such a stark name, he didn't remember filling it in either.

Rubbing the blank stiff card, Zheng Qing's first reaction was that it was a scam. Tsk tsk, maybe some third-rate university registered a flashy name abroad and came back to China to cash in. Stories like that weren't uncommon.

Then he grew puzzled. The name "First University" sounded impressive, but he'd never heard of it domestically. He seemed to recall something like that abroad—was it France or Germany?

Touching the soft gray cloth bag hanging at his chest, Zheng Qing's eyebrows slowly rose. His intuition told him: this admission letter was definitely connected to what he had studied with his master.

Going to the bathroom, he cupped a handful of cold water and splashed it on his face. Instantly, he felt every cell in his body come alive, stimulated by the chill.

Leaning on the sink, he carefully studied the guy in the mirror for a long moment. Yes, his face was glowing red—the kind of complexion that seemed to herald good fortune. But it could also be the effect of the cold water.

In the mirror was a gentle face. His eyes weren't large, but they sparkled. His nose, like many Eastern faces, was a bit low and round. A faint fuzz was barely visible at the corners of his lips. His neatly trimmed short hair lay docilely in all directions, but a single tuft of ahoge on top of his head stood stubbornly upright, refusing to yield to its surrounding companions.

"Damn it." He grabbed another handful of cold water and forcefully smoothed down that tuft of hair, pressing it flat. Of course, he knew this was just psychological comfort—once the cold water dried, that tuft would spring right back up.

Letting out a foolish chuckle, Zheng Qing's body shook, and a silvery white pocket watch tumbled out from the round collar of his undershirt, dangling in midair, swaying restlessly back and forth.

This pocket watch was a gift from his master on his twelfth birthday.

That was the first time he had gone to Huizi Market, and also the first time he had come into contact with that hidden world.

The silver lid snapped open with a click. The hands on the dial turned quietly—one second, two seconds, three seconds—as if nothing could stop this silent, stubborn rotation.

The smile on Zheng Qing's face froze in the mirror, as droplets of water from his face and hair gathered into a stream, rolling down his cheek to his chin, then dripping onto his chest.

In a daze, he seemed to see a small figure practicing calligraphy with a brush.