I’m guessing it started the first time we touched base with Rain Moon Willow and her girls, like a current waking under ice. We’ll need to confirm with them.

Qianya bowed her head, voice soft like falling ash. Time’s moving again. We can’t stay here, Xuewei.

Go now? Xuewei’s gaze set, sharp as a drawn blade.

Mm.

Qianya rose. Whoosh—she slipped from the hospital like a shadow into rain, before Xuewei could blink.

Eh?!

...

Heh-heh, let’s get closer. Honestly, I want a look at that face, like lifting a veil in moonlight.

Who? Xuewei frowned, her confusion stirring like fog.

Classified.

They’re all talking about Heng Zi. Qianya, do you mean her?

Heng Zi? Who’s that… I don’t mean that one. Qianya quickened, feet tapping like sparrows. Two small figures threaded the crowd like minnows through reeds. After a few knocks, they found the flow.

What are they planning to compete in?

No idea… Her words drifted like mist over stone.

At the square’s heart, Heng Zi faced Taoran, eyes locked like twin swords. On the table, two cards lay like pale leaves.

Cheating’s allowed, right?

Taoran said nothing, her stare taut as a bowstring, a silent nod in frost.

What?!

The crowd erupted like storm-surf against cliffs. They’d expected a fair match under a thousand eyes, waves steady and measured. The vice president set it up to stop Heng Zi cheating. No one thought Heng Zi would ask for it, or that the vice president would let it happen.

Heh. Looks like you’re all surprised. Heng Zi turned, her smile bright as a blade in noon sun. In a real clash, there’s no such thing as cheating. Who talks honor on a battlefield, classmates?

Besides, this match stakes my expulsion like a knife at the throat. I set the rules.

Expelled?

At Heavenly Deity Academy, some leave each year for low credit points, like leaves blown off a branch. But expulsion for rule-breaking? And with it on the table as a wager? And from the vice president?

Shock pressed down like a stone. Minds balked like horses at fire.

Heng Zi drank in their faces, pleased as a cat in warm light. She turned back to Taoran, smile deepening at Taoran’s ready calm. Let’s begin, Senior Taoran. Here are the rules. One deck, cards one through nine like nine stars. We each draw three at random. We set a target number. Whoever’s total lands closer wins. Fair?

No problem. Taoran’s voice was cool, a lake under cloud.

Good. By the way, only those nine cards count. Any extras you slip in won’t be tallied, like smoke in rain.

Oh.

Shall we start? Heng Zi offered the deck like a dancer’s hand. Taoran didn’t draw.

You first.

Then I’ll oblige. Heng Zi laughed, and slid a card free like steel from a sheath.

Taoran drew after her, fingers steady as winter branches. Heng Zi straightened and looked back at the crowd.

Let’s have you pick the number that decides it, shall we?

After a beat, voices swirled like starlings. A verdict fell like a bell strike. Fifteen.

Taoran turned a nine, bold as noon. Heng Zi had a two, thin as a crescent moon.

Heh. Looks like Senior’s luck is glowing today, like lanterns at dusk.

Taoran held her silence, watchful as a huntress. Heng Zi could shift calamity onto others like rain off her cloak. Taoran’s Authority inverted luck itself, flipping fortune like a coin in wind. Few knew it, but in the Academy she’d helped unlucky kids, a gentle hand in winter—charity given a name. Yet that gift could carry more than blessings; it could cut like hidden ice.

Next card…

Heng Zi drew a seven, solid as a mountain step. Taoran’s was six, neat as a chime.

Did they trigger? Dawn Sugar Snow watched the table, nerves tight like harp strings. She was one of the few who knew their real Authorities. Their win or loss rode luck like a boat rides a river.

Taoran could turn her own luck and Heng Zi’s, eddies shifting under both boats. If both ran lucky, the higher current would carry one ahead. Right now Taoran sat at fifteen, a perfect stillness. Any next draw would push her away like wind on glass. Heng Zi had nine; the best six was gone. Both lost the clean line to fifteen.

Then let’s draw together, shall we?

…

From the five cards left, they each took one, hands moving like swallows. They flipped them open under a hundred eyes.

Heng Zi: five, a firm ember. Taoran: one, a pale seed.

Totals fourteen and sixteen. A tie, like mirrored moons.

How… is that possible? Taoran stared at the cards, hands on the table trembling like leaves.

Hah… looks like a tie. Go again, Senior Taoran?

Heng Zi watched her with pale-gold eyes, chin propped like a cat toying with a moth.

Again…!

No matter how many rounds they spun, the end held the same shape, like a wheel in ruts.

Heng Zi scoffed, a cold spark, and set another wager spinning.

Whether drawing cards or tossing dice, if luck ruled, Taoran couldn’t outpace her. Fate kept sliding like oil under Heng Zi’s feet.

No need to keep trying, Senior Taoran. If you cling to throwing her out, you won’t win. Qianya rose into the air like a swift cutting wind, landing on the stage. The crowd’s shock burst like thunder around stone.

You…? Heng Zi’s look twisted, hostility bare like thorns. Her body quivered, the urge to grab Qianya’s collar flickering like fire. Yet the words melted on her tongue, leaving only a thin smile.

Fine.

Qianya?! What are you doing?!

I’m going to duel Heng Zi, on her favorite field. The loser leaves this Academy forever, like ash on the wind.

Are you insane…

The Academy roared, louder than when the vice president challenged Heng Zi. This wasn’t a gamble anymore. It was a real duel, a storm front rolling in.

Two on two. Bring your sister. I’ll fight with Dawn Sugar Snow.

Oh? So that’s it. You’ve got faith in Dawn Sugar Snow, hm? Heng Zi’s smile curled like smoke.

Ah… why me… Dawn Sugar Snow wilted a bit, reluctance flitting like a moth. But Qianya’s safety sat in her hands like a fragile lamp, and she didn’t refuse.

Qianya met Heng Zi’s squinting smile, gave a small hum like a flute, then turned her back and strode to the Dawn Sugar Snow sisters. She plotted out loud, bold as a banner in wind.

I’ll need you, Tangxue. And you, Yueyu. I hope you’ll witness the fight when it comes, like moonlight over ink. I’ll stand with your sister and drive this one out of the Academy.

Are you serious…? Dawn Sugar Snow looked at Qianya, gravity settling like rain.

Yeah. Deadly serious. Qianya nodded, crisp as a snap.

It’s the fastest way, like taking the straight path through the bamboo.