The morning sun streamed through the lattice windows of the dining hall of Dà Tián Shòuyì, casting patterns onto the polished wooden floors. The room buzzed with energy as students in their traditional robes and neatly tied ponytails filled the long wooden benches. The faint clatter of chopsticks and the hum of casual chatter set a lively tone for the day.
That school dining hall unusually lively for a holiday morning. Normally, the space would be quiet, its wooden tables and benches empty, the faint scent of steamed buns and herbal tea lingering in the air. But today, nearly 60 students filled the room, their presence breaking the stillness. Thirty-nine of them were guests from other schools, while the rest were second-grade students of Dà Tián Shòuyì. No teachers were present; perhaps they were busy ensuring the event ran smoothly elsewhere.
The seating arrangements in the canteen had a curious logic. The right side was reserved for students with beasts, while those without were seated on the left. Each group kept to its own school, but the right side was notably sparse, with only the top-ranked students—three or four from each school—occupying the tables. In contrast, the left side brimmed with chatter, its numbers swelling with 39 students from four different schools.
The crowd on the left buzzed with energy, and amid the lively conversations, one topic dominated: women. Where there were beautiful women, there were always young men vying for attention. The students from Bǎi Wàn Shòuyì, the prestigious all-girls school, were the undeniable focus of this admiration. Both sides of the canteen turned their eyes to the group, captivated by their presence.
On the right, the three top-ranked students of Bǎi Wàn Shòuyì were like bright stars in a sea of competitors. Jiàn Ruòxī, the school's number one, commanded attention effortlessly. Her beauty was renowned, befitting the daughter of a noble family from Wàn Huā Chéng, the City of a Million Fragrant Flowers. She was said to be the third most beautiful woman in the city, a title that seemed almost modest when she carried herself with such grace and aloofness.
If Jiàn Ruòxī was an untouchable flower, her classmate Han Xiǎoyún was the cheerful bloom drawing everyone in with her warmth. Ranked second in the school, Han Xiǎoyún's lively demeanor made her approachable, a stark contrast to Jiàn Ruòxī's reserved elegance.
The third-ranked student, Chén Lìqiù, was quieter, a shadow behind her dazzling peers. Yet her beauty, though understated, was impossible to overlook. While Jiàn Ruòxī and Han Xiǎoyún basked in the attention, Chén Lìqiù remained composed, her sharp eyes observing everything. She was known for her analytical mind, a reputation that extended to her beast—a transparent chameleon, perfectly suited for tracking and reconnaissance. Students in her school whispered about her prowess, though she rarely sought the spotlight.
On the left side of the canteen, the atmosphere was entirely different. The sheer number of students created a chaotic blend of voices and laughter. Male students, emboldened by the presence of the Bǎi Wàn Shòuyì girls, leaned toward their tables, attempting to strike up conversations. The wooden space, lit by the warm glow of oil lamps and filled with the earthy scent of steamed rice and herbal soup, was alive with the energy of youth.
As Jiàn Ruòxī glanced briefly at the crowd on the left, her expression betrayed nothing. Han Xiǎoyún, however, offered a cheerful wave to a group of boys, her laughter light as a breeze. Chén Lìqiù simply sipped her tea, her gaze flickering across the room as though cataloging every movement, every word.
Despite the chatter and the undercurrent of admiration, the students from Dà Tián Shòuyì maintained an air of calm. Their wooden chopsticks clicked softly against porcelain bowls as they ate, their long robes and neat ponytails lending an aura of elegance. Even in the crowded canteen, there was a sense of quiet anticipation, as though everyone present understood that this gathering was more than a casual holiday meeting—it was a stage where reputations were built, alliances were forged, and rivalries simmered beneath the surface.
The canteen of Dà Tián Shòuyì, dimly lit by oil lamps, buzzed quietly despite the holiday. Wooden tables and benches filled the space, with groups of students seated according to their schools. On the right, those who had beasts sat in smaller, more composed groups. On the left, the larger and noisier crowd consisted of students without beasts. Conversations hummed, but the liveliest chatter came from the left, where topics ranged wildly, often circling back to the students of Bǎi Wàn Shòuyì—particularly the three most notable girls.
Jiàn Ruòxī, the aloof beauty ranked first in her school, sat regally, her elegant posture and distant gaze deterring most from approaching. Her long robe shimmered faintly, reflecting her status as a noble daughter from Wàn Huā Chéng, the City of Millions Fragrant Flowers. To her right was Hán Xiǎoyún, her complete opposite. With her cheerful demeanor and easy laughter, she was surrounded by male students, each vying for her attention. Chén Lìqiù, the quiet third-ranked student, sat alone at the corner of the same table, her eyes seemingly lost in thought.
Chén Lìqiù's silence wasn't mere shyness. Hán Xiǎoyún and Jiàn Ruòxī both knew she was likely on an assignment from their teacher, Hé Lìhuá. Her teacher had tasked her with uncovering the identity of a mysterious Beast Master whose beast had caused immense fear among others, even intimidating Zhào Wéiguāng's formidable eagle beast—ranked among the top ten in the kingdom.
Rumors had spread like wildfire. The Giant Armored Yin Yang Panda, Hé Lìhuá's own beast, had confessed it might not last ten moves against the mysterious beast's mental counterattacks. Yet, none of the teachers or known students at Dà Tián Shòuyì were believed to own such a creature. Suspicion had even fallen on Jiàn Yú Gǎng Shòuyì's Zhì Jiéyuán, who owned a blue whale beast capable of magical mental waves. However, even Zhì Jiéyuán had shown signs of pain during the backlash.
This left only the students of Dà Tián Shòuyì, all of whom were seated on the right side of the canteen. Chén Lìqiù's transparent chameleon, known for its unparalleled stealth and extended presence in the real world, had been observing the Beast Masters and their interactions all morning. Yet, the truth remained elusive, evident in her furrowed brows and distant gaze.
Meanwhile, Hán Xiǎoyún played her own part, engaging the male students who flocked to her. Her bubbly laughter filled the air as she subtly steered conversations toward their beasts, fishing for clues. To the untrained eye, it seemed effortless and natural. Chén Hào, Lǐ Jié, Sūn Míng, and Zhào Fēng—the most eager among her admirers—were utterly oblivious to her ulterior motives. They saw only a vibrant girl who seemed approachable and carefree, unlike the reserved Jiàn Ruòxī or the focused Chén Lìqiù.
In the far corner, Jiàn Ruòxī sipped her tea, her eyes scanning the room with mild disinterest. She had no patience for the noise or the antics, content to let the others play their games. Chén Lìqiù, meanwhile, remained deep in thought. Somewhere in this room was the answer she sought, and until her chameleon revealed it, her mind would allow no rest.
Hán Xiǎoyún, her double ponytails adorned with delicate jade pins, sat beside Jiàn Ruòxī, whose composed posture and aloof expression set her apart from the crowd. Jiàn Ruòxī radiated a quiet authority, her every movement deliberate, as if the weight of her family's prestige rested on her shoulders. Despite the bustling room, few dared to approach her. Beside her, however, Hán Xiǎoyún was a stark contrast—bright-eyed and brimming with easy charm.
Across the room, Chén Lìqiù sat alone at a smaller table, her attention focused on a thick stack of papers. Her head was bowed, her brush gliding steadily across the surface as if the lively dining hall didn't exist.
Hán Xiǎoyún glanced at Lìqiù briefly before turning her attention to the group of four young men who had just entered the room. Their animated conversation and confident strides made them hard to ignore. They were clearly from Dà Tián Shòuyì, their distinctive robes bearing the school's emblem.
The group exchanged quick glances before heading toward Xiǎoyún's table. Their leader, Chén Hào, a tall boy with a self-assured grin, spoke first. "Good morning, ladies. Mind if we join you?"
Jiàn Ruòxī gave a curt nod, her expression cool and unreadable, while Hán Xiǎoyún broke into a welcoming smile. "Of course! It's always nice to meet new faces."
The boys introduced themselves one by one. Chén Hào, with his easy confidence, was clearly the spokesperson of the group. Lǐ Jié, shorter but stocky, had an air of quiet strength. Sūn Míng, with sharp eyes and a quick wit, seemed perpetually amused by everything around him. Zhào Fēng, lean and wiry, had a mischievous glint in his eye that hinted at trouble.
"I'm Hán Xiǎoyún," she said, her tone bright and friendly. "This is Jiàn Ruòxī." She gestured toward her companion, who nodded politely but said nothing. "And over there, hard at work as always, is Chén Lìqiù."
The boys followed her gaze to the lone figure at the other table, but before they could comment, Xiǎoyún leaned forward slightly, her smile widening. "So, what brings you all here so early? Surely it's not just breakfast."
Chén Hào chuckled. "We heard the canteen here serves the best rice porridge, so we had to see for ourselves."
"Is that so?" Xiǎoyún teased. "Or did someone tell you our school has better company too?"
Zhào Fēng grinned. "Guilty as charged."
The group laughed, and soon the conversation flowed easily. Xiǎoyún's natural charm and lighthearted banter drew them in like moths to a flame. Despite Jiàn Ruòxī's reserved demeanor, even she seemed slightly more at ease in the lively atmosphere.
As the boys continued to chatter, Xiǎoyún carefully steered the conversation with subtle questions. "It must be exciting being students at Dà Tián Shòuyì," she said, her tone casual. "I've heard it's the best school for Beast Masters."
Chén Hào perked up immediately. "That's true! We have some of the strongest beasts in the kingdom."
"Really?" Xiǎoyún's eyes widened with curiosity. "What kind of beasts?"
Chén Hào leaned back, clearly enjoying the attention. "Take my Poison-Feathered Eagle, for example. It's unmatched in aerial combat. Its claws are laced with venom, and its feathers can turn into flying knives."
"That's incredible," Xiǎoyún said with genuine admiration. "It must take a lot of skill to handle a beast like that."
"It does," he said proudly.
Lǐ Jié joined in, his deep voice cutting through the chatter. "My Steel Boar may not be as flashy, but it has unmatched defense. Nothing gets through its armor."
Sūn Míng smirked. "Flashy isn't everything, Lǐ Jié. My Blakiston's Fish Owl is a master tactician. It can spot weaknesses and outthink opponents in battle."
Zhào Fēng chimed in with a sly grin. "Speed beats strength and strategy any day. My Flying Monkey can deliver shadowless attacks so fast, you'd never see them coming."
Hán Xiǎoyún listened intently, her expression a perfect blend of curiosity and delight. "It sounds like each of your beasts is extraordinary in its own way. You must be very proud."
The boys basked in her praise, their earlier reservations completely forgotten. They began sharing more details about their training and their beasts' unique abilities, their enthusiasm growing with each word.
Hán Xiǎoyún tilted her head, her curiosity unabated as she leaned slightly closer to the boys. "So," she began with an innocent smile, "if your beasts are truly as powerful as you say, how would they fare against Méi Líng's Unicorn Horse or Yán Ruòzhēn's White Lightning Bear?"
The question silenced the group for a moment, and the boys exchanged uncertain glances. Chén Hào cleared his throat, trying to maintain his confident demeanor. "Well, uh... those beasts are impressive, no doubt," he admitted, "but our school doesn't arrange matches between students often. Without a proper duel, it's hard to say."
Lǐ Jié nodded in agreement, his brow furrowing slightly. "And, unless the owners themselves reveal it, a beast's unique attack is usually kept secret. It's a matter of strategy."
"Exactly," added Sūn Míng, his sharp eyes glinting. "If you reveal too much about your beast's abilities, you lose the element of surprise. That's why most of us keep our special techniques to ourselves."
Zhào Fēng chuckled, leaning back on his bench. "Although," he said, flashing a playful grin at Xiǎoyún, "we've just shared some of our secrets with you. You should feel honored. Even we don't usually talk about these things with each other."
Xiǎoyún's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Really? So, none of you knew about each other's abilities before this?"
The boys shook their heads, and Chén Hào smirked. "Not a word. But for you, Hán Xiǎoyún, we made an exception."
Sūn Míng leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table as he teased, "You must have some kind of magic, Miss Xiǎoyún, to make us spill so easily."
Xiǎoyún giggled, brushing off their flattery. "I suppose I'm just naturally curious. But don't worry, your secrets are safe with me... for now."
Their laughter was suddenly cut short by a sharp, angry voice from the far end of the hall.
"You dare touch me?!"
All heads turned toward the commotion. Méi Líng, her delicate features twisted in anger, stood rigidly beside her table. Across from her was Zhào Róngtiān, the top-ranked student of the Great Yellow Desert Beast Mastery School. His tall, imposing figure cast a shadow over her, and his grip on her wrist was firm and unrelenting.
"Méi Líng," Zhào Róngtiān said in a low, commanding tone, "I only invited you to join me for a meal. There's no need to make a scene."
Méi Líng's eyes blazed with defiance. "Let go of me," she demanded, her voice sharp and unwavering.
Zhào Róngtiān's expression darkened as he tightened his hold, his other hand reaching toward her face. "You should be grateful for my attention. A simple cook's daughter should know her place."
The tension in the room was palpable. Students on both sides of the dining hall froze, their conversations forgotten as they watched the unfolding drama.
"Unhand her, Zhào Róngtiān," came a cold, authoritative voice from nearby. Jiàn Ruòxī had risen from her seat, her gaze sharp as steel. The air around her seemed to chill as she took a step forward.
Zhào Róngtiān turned his head slowly, his lips curling into a sneer. "And what business is it of yours, Jiàn Ruòxī? This is between me and the lady."
Ruòxī's posture was unyielding, her tone icy. "You're in the hall reserved for students with beasts. That means we abide by certain rules, including respect for one another. Or do the students of Dà Huáng Shā Shòuyì not understand such things?"
Zhào Róngtiān's jaw clenched, his pride clearly stung. "Careful, Jiàn Ruòxī. My Sand Basilisk doesn't take kindly to insults, even indirect ones."
Before Ruòxī could respond, Hán Xiǎoyún interjected, her voice light but firm. "Now, now, there's no need for such hostility. We're all here to enjoy a peaceful meal, aren't we?"
Zhào Fēng, a distant cousin of Zhào Róngtiān, felt a knot of unease in his chest as he observed the altercation. He knew all too well of Zhào Róngtiān's reputation at Dà Huáng Shā Shòuyì—the man was notorious for his rudeness, domineering attitude, boastfulness, and playboy tendencies. Yet, despite his disdain, Zhào Fēng dared not openly oppose him. Zhào Róngtiān's father was the third son of the main Zhào clan in the capital city, a powerful and influential branch. In contrast, Zhào Fēng's family hailed from a smaller, more modest branch in Dà Tiánchéng.
Sensing the growing tension, Zhào Fēng forced a smirk and spoke up, attempting to defuse the situation without directly challenging his cousin. "It's true, cousin Róngtiān," he said lightly. "A man of your stature shouldn't need to force a lady's company. Surely your charm is enough to win her over. I will help you later. Let her go, please?"
The onlookers muttered nervously, their unease palpable. Jiàn Ruòxī, standing nearby, turned her sharp gaze toward Yán Ruòzhēn, who lounged at a table, unmoved by the commotion.
Zhào Róngtiān's grip on Méi Líng's wrist tightened as she struggled, her face pale but defiant. The onlookers murmured among themselves, their eyes darting between the two. Zhào Fēng, sensing the unease, attempted to interject with a light remark, but his words barely fazed Zhào Róngtiān, who sneered and kept his hold firm.
"And you call yourself a man?" Jiàn Ruòxī's voice was cutting. "A young master who doesn't even care when the daughter of your family's loyal chef is being humiliated?"
Yán Ruòzhēn shrugged lazily, not even glancing her way. "Why should I? She's just a servant. A young master doesn't waste his time defending the lowly."
Jiàn Ruòxī's glare intensified, but before she could retort, a sudden movement shocked the room.
Zhào Róngtiān's grip on Méi Líng's wrist remained firm despite her struggles. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with defiance, but she couldn't break free. Wáng Xīn, her closest companion, stepped forward, her Woolly Ice Rhinoceros materializing behind her with a heavy, frosty snort.
"Let her go," Wáng Xīn demanded, her voice steady though her beast's warning echoed in her mind: You can't beat him.
Zhào Róngtiān's sneer deepened as he waved his hand dismissively. "You think you can stop me?" In a swift move, he struck, disarming Wáng Xīn with effortless precision. She staggered back, clutching her shoulder as her beast growled low in frustration.
The atmosphere thickened, tension rippling through the hall as Méi Líng's discomfort grew evident. Zhào Róngtiān's arrogance was palpable, his domineering presence silencing even the bolder students. He stood tall, a smirk curling his lips, daring anyone to intervene.
Suddenly, without warning, Yán Shèngxīn appeared between them. His hand brushed Zhào Róngtiān's wrist with effortless precision, and the grip on Méi Líng's arm broke as though it had been a mere thread. Zhào Róngtiān stumbled back, his expression shifting from outrage to confusion.
The room fell into stunned silence. Students exchanged bewildered glances, trying to make sense of what had happened.
"Did you see him move?" one boy whispered, his voice tinged with disbelief. "He was over by the left section, wasn't he? Just coming back from the restroom?"
Another student nodded hesitantly. "He was nowhere near them a second ago. How did he even get there? Who is he?"
Méi Líng stumbled back, her wide eyes locking onto Yán Shèngxīn.
"Young Master!" she cried, rushing to his side.
The room erupted into whispers.
"Who is he? Her young master?" Hán Xiǎoyún asked, glancing at the students from Dà Tián Shòuyì.
"That is her first young master, Yán Shèngxīn." Chén Hào explained it to Hán Xiǎoyún.
Even the usually reserved Chén Lìqiù, sitting in the far corner, furrowed her brows. She turned to her transparent chameleon, which had been observing the scene from the shadows near Zhào Róngtiān. The creature flicked its tail in agitation, its whispery voice reaching her alone. "No fluctuation. No energy shift. Nothing."
Chén Lìqiù's sharp mind raced. Her instincts told her something was amiss. Yán Shèngxīn wasn't supposed to be exceptional—just another student from the left section, one of the many without a bonded beast. Yet his movement defied logic. Swift, precise, and beyond what any unenhanced human could achieve. Only a Beast Master could perform such a feat.
Jiàn Ruòxī, the top student from Bǎi Wàn Shòuyì, stood frozen, her sharp eyes betraying her surprise. She prided herself on her perceptiveness, yet even she hadn't caught Yán Shèngxīn's movement.
The most shaken, however, was Zhào Róngtiān. His sand basilisk stirred uneasily in the space between their bond, its thoughts brushing against his mind. "I didn't see him move," it admitted grudgingly, its tone heavy with unease. While the beast avoided outright acknowledgment of defeat, the implication was clear. If it couldn't track Yán Shèngxīn, its master certainly couldn't either.
Zhào Róngtiān's bravado faltered, his face pale beneath the forced sneer he now wore. "This isn't over," he spat, his voice louder than necessary. But as he turned to leave, his gait betrayed the unease gnawing at him.
The hall remained silent as the doors shut behind him, the tension hanging in the air like a held breath. Conversations resumed in hushed tones, speculation bubbling among the students.
Méi Líng, still trembling, glanced at Yán Shèngxīn, who stood quietly by her side. She opened her mouth to speak, but he had already stepped away, melting back into the crowd as though nothing had happened.
Chén Lìqiù leaned back in her chair, her mind buzzing with questions. Yán Shèngxīn... just who are you?
The hall slowly returned to its usual chatter, but an undercurrent of curiosity and unease remained.
Yán Ruòzhēn's fingers tightened around his porcelain bowl as his mind replayed the scene. He had not seen Yán Shèngxīn move—no one had. Yet, there he was, effortlessly breaking Zhào Róngtiān's grip and leaving the usually arrogant young master retreating in silence.
"Wasn't Yán Shèngxīn supposed to lack a beast? How could someone without one move so fast and with such precision?" His jaw clenched. If Zhào Róngtiān had sensed even the slightest chance of victory, he wouldn't have fled. That much was clear.
With a scowl, Yán Ruòzhēn placed his plate on the rack for dirty dishes and stormed out of the hall. This couldn't be ignored. He needed answers. His steps quickened as a bitter thought crossed his mind:"I'm the rightful young master of the Yán clan in this city. No one should outshine me!"
Meanwhile, in the left section of the hall, the atmosphere remained calm. The partition between the sections muffled the earlier commotion, and few students here were aware of it.
Tí Lóng folded his arms across his chest, his sharp eyes fixed on Yán Shèngxīn. "You're hiding something from me, brother," he said, his tone half-joking but laced with curiosity.
Yán Shèngxīn slurped his chicken noodles without looking up. "What are you talking about? I don't understand."
Tí Lóng leaned closer, his gaze narrowing. "You know what I mean. You were sitting right next to me, and then—boom! You're over there breaking Zhào Róngtiān's hold without anyone seeing you move. How did you do it?"
"I just ran," Yán Shèngxīn replied casually, swirling his chopsticks in the broth.
"Ran?" Tí Lóng's voice rose slightly. "That fast? Don't kid me. No one saw you move—not me, not anyone else."
"They were all focused on the fight," Yán Shèngxīn said, his tone calm. "When people are distracted, they miss the obvious. That's all." He set his chopsticks down and stood, carrying his empty bowl to the dish rack. "Anyway, hurry up and finish. Potion class is next, and the dining hall's almost empty. We'll be late if we don't leave now."
Tí Lóng glanced around. Most students had already left, the hall now quiet except for a few lingering in groups. He sighed, shoveling the last of his noodles into his mouth. "You owe me an explanation, bro!" he grumbled through a mouthful of food.
Yán Shèngxīn didn't reply, already heading toward the door. His mind wandered as he walked. The food in the left section was simple—plain, efficient, and far from the luxurious dishes served to the "geniuses" in the right section. Discrimination, he thought with a flicker of annoyance, though he quickly brushed it aside.
"Wait for me, Yán Shèngxīn!" Tí Lóng called, scrambling to finish. He dumped his bowl in the dish rack and jogged to catch up. "You're so impatient! Some brother you are."
Yán Shèngxīn smirked but said nothing, picking up his pace as they left the dining hall and headed toward the class building. Today was the much-anticipated Potion Exchange session, where visiting masters shared their rare techniques. It promised to be fascinating.
Tí Lóng jogged beside him, still muttering complaints. Despite his grumbles, his excitement for the day ahead was clear. Yán Shèngxīn glanced at him, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Come on, Tí Lóng," he said finally. "You don't want to miss this."
And with that, the two disappeared into the morning light, the dining hall now silent behind them.