At Egisia Academy, inside the Headmistress’s office, sunlight pooled like warm tea on polished wood.

Eastern Moon Aotian sat face-to-face with a statuesque beauty, her poise like a blade sheathed in silk.

“Uh, Your Majesty, you’re joking, right? You want a boy to transfer in,” she said, her brows flicking like startled swallows.

After a paper-thin silence, she looked at Eastern Moon Aotian, her gaze cool as spring water.

“No, Headmistress Melusha, I’m not joking; please see that the Mizumi boy transfers,” Aotian said, steady as a mountain under snow.

This woman was Melusha Binai, the current headmistress of Egisia Academy, a Sacred Realm mage of water and fire, standing at the Holy Peak like a foot on a cloud’s edge, one step from the Divine Realm’s gate.

“The Mizumi boy? Uh… ah!” Melusha’s eyes widened like twin moons. “Your Majesty, the boy you mean is from the Central Continent’s Mizumi Clan?!”

“Yes, and if I’m not wrong, he’s a Sword Wielder,” Aotian said, the word flashing like a bared edge.

“But Egisia Academy is a magic academy, and he’s a Sword Wielder; what’s the point,” she asked, drawing a deep breath like the sea pulling in a tide.

“According to Xinuo Miss, he wants to taste campus life, which is to say, to play,” Aotian said, a brief smile rippling like wind over tea.

“On the Central Continent, there’s no place called an academy, nor any need for one,” he went on, voice unhurried like a river glide.

“It’s likely his first time leaving the Central Continent, his first time leaving the Mizumi Clan, so craving a new life is natural,” he added, like a bird testing open sky.

“But he’s a boy,” Melusha said, her tone catching like a twig in a stream, for Egisia’s first rule was a stone carved in water—no men admitted.

“Don’t worry about that part, Headmistress,” Aotian said, lifting a cup as steam curled like morning mist.

“I’ve met the Mizumi boy; he’s adorably pretty, and in a girl’s outfit he wouldn’t lose to Aixue,” he added, a snow-bright smile touching his eyes.

“But didn’t they cause a huge commotion just last night,” she said, fear pricking like cold rain as she recalled Soulrend Gorge.

“If he comes to Egisia, won’t he tear down the academy island,” she asked, the thought rumbling like distant thunder.

In that battle, more than twenty Sacred Realm experts fell like stars burned out, and two at the Holy Peak dropped like shattered peaks.

“That’s not really a problem,” Aotian said, setting his cup down as porcelain clicked like a pebble in a brook.

“I understand his temper: don’t strike unless struck; if struck, pay it back a hundredfold,” he said, calm as a pine until the wind is whipped raw.

“So long as no one provokes the Mizumi boy, nothing will break,” he added, like a lake that holds its mirror until stones are thrown.

He placed the cup aside and picked up a pastry, its flaky edge crumbling like soft snow.

“Most students at Egisia are young ladies and princesses from across the Eastern Moon Continent, right,” he asked, his tone light as drifting petals.

“Mm, that’s true,” Melusha said, nodding like a reed bending in a gentle breeze.

“Then there’s nothing to fear,” Aotian said, his words clear as bell chimes across a courtyard.

“The Dark Magic Guild wanting to topple the Mizumi Clan is known to the whole world, like storm news carried by every wind.”

“So it’s no surprise they offended the Mizumi boy,” he said, the memory sparking like flint.

“As for the Kage Family, Asasiya’s son—Ral—provoked him, and he even had time to tease Xinuo Miss,” Aotian added, clicking his tongue like a pebble skimming a pond. “He truly didn’t know life from death.”

Finding it all rather funny, Aotian laughed, the sound tinkling like wind through bamboo. “So don’t worry, Headmistress.”

“The young ladies at Egisia are well-bred flowers, not the wastrel thorns that Ral embodies,” he said, light dancing like sun across leaves.

“…Let’s hope so,” Melusha said at last, her voice settling like dusk on eaves. “Term starts the day after tomorrow, and the uniform will be sent to the Proud Moon Palace tonight.”

She compromised and began the enrollment, her brush flowing like a creek, her seal landing like soft thunder.

“Alright then, Headmistress, I’ll leave you to it,” Aotian said, rising like a shadow slipping from a wall.

“Take care; I won’t see you out,” she replied, her tone crisp as frost.

“Ahaha, Headmistress, you’re as quick to anger as ever,” he said, his laughter ringing like small bells.

He turned and left the office, the door closing behind him like a page folded shut.

Proud Moon Palace shimmered under the noon sky, its rooftops bright as polished jade.

“Father, I heard the Mizumi boy is transferring to Egisia Academy; is that true,” asked Eastern Moon Aixue, her steps quick as a spring breeze through silk.

“Yes, the paperwork’s done, and the uniform should arrive tonight,” Aotian said, his hand ruffling her hair like sun over fresh snow.

“Hey! Really, I’m not a child anymore, don’t rub my head,” she puffed, cheeks blooming like peach petals. “I’ve got to tell Faya—she’ll be thrilled. See you later, Father!”

She dashed off, her joy leaping like a deer across open grass.

“How good,” Aotian murmured, watching her vanish down the corridor like a swallow into blue. “Aixue is always carefree and light, like a cloud with no rain.”

He lifted his gaze to the deep blue sky, its expanse unfurling like silk on the loom.

“The Mizumi Clan of the Central Continent… that name still hits like thunder; I’m still short of breath,” he said, the weight in his chest heavy as a stone in a stream.

…

Within the Proud Moon Palace, in the western garden, flowers nodded like lanterns in a soft breeze.

“Faya, Faya! Guess what good news I brought you,” cried Eastern Moon Aixue, her voice ringing like a lark over blossoms.

“Aixue, what did you run into,” Faya asked, setting down the sprinkler as water beads rolled like pearls off leaves.

“You bet it’s good,” Aixue grinned, her smile bright as first snow. “I just heard from Father: the Mizumi boy is transferring to Egisia! The paperwork’s done!”

“But Egisia is a girls’ academy,” Faya said, doubt shading her eyes like clouds over a pond. “He’s a boy.”

“What’s so strange,” Aixue said, her fist pumping like a drumbeat. “He’s so cute that in girls’ clothes he’d outshine us.”

“Uh, that might be true,” Faya said, her cheeks warming like maple leaves at dusk. “But he’s from the Mizumi Clan.”

“Would he really do something that embarrassing,” she asked, her voice small as a moth’s wing. “A boy wearing a girl’s uniform into a girls’ school—it feels shameful.”

“Relax, relax,” Aixue said, patting Faya’s shoulder like a friendly gust smoothing tall grass.

“From what I’ve observed, both Mizumi and Hill listen to Xinuo Miss, like stars drawn by the moon,” she said, eyes sparkling like dew.

“And Xinuo Miss seems to enjoy putting Mizumi in girls’ clothes, and I heard transferring to Egisia was her idea,” she added, the words skipping like stones on water.

“Honestly, Xinuo Miss is a peerless beauty; the moment I saw her, my heart fluttered like a startled bird,” she confessed, hand pressed to her chest like a petal catching wind.

“Ha—” Faya breathed out, her mind going blank like a snowfield under sudden sun.

She stood there dazed, rooted like a willow lost in thought.