Chapter Eleven: Registration

Year 91 of the Lan Calendar, summer.

A light rain was falling.

The raindrops, as fine as a spider’s silk, landed upon the snow-white streets of Ye Night City, raising faint ripples before seeping into the cracks between the white flagstones, vanishing without a trace.

On the empty streets, a few pedestrians hurried by, while at the end of the avenue, dozens of towering white towers soared into the sky, their heights uneven, piercing the heavens like unsheathed swords.

A youth of seventeen or eighteen sat beneath these towers, beside a sign that read: Ye Night Academy Admissions Office.

He was sleeping, sprawled across the desk.

He did not wake until someone gently tapped on the table before him.

“I’d like to register.”

The speaker’s voice was a clear, composed girl’s—crisp and graceful, like the sound of rain striking jade.

The youth snapped awake, looking up at the figure before him.

He saw a young girl with pale golden hair standing in the rain, while behind her, a boy struggled to hold a paper umbrella over her head, rainwater sliding down the canopy and splashing in all directions. Since half the boy’s body was exposed to the elements, his clothes were already soaked through. Yet his expression remained steadfast and composed.

Suddenly, the youth was fully alert.

For no other reason than that the girl before him was breathtakingly beautiful.

She stood quietly, like a snow lotus blooming in the far north—her face and bearing nearly flawless, as if she had stepped out from a painting.

“Hello, Miss. My name is Zhou Yi. I’m in charge of admissions today. How may I assist you?” Zhou Yi almost stood at attention behind the desk, introducing himself hurriedly, so flustered that he felt as if the sign behind the girl were for him.

“Registration.” The girl spoke perfect Lan Leaf dialect, her accent so precise that Zhou Yi could detect no hint of a regional inflection.

“Do you have a letter of recommendation?” Zhou Yi asked, slipping into his official tone, then lowered his voice a little, “If not—”

Before he could offer the usual shortcuts, the boy behind the girl, working with some effort, produced two palm-sized cards from his coat and slid them across the table.

Zhou Yi hurriedly picked them up for a closer look.

A letter of recommendation was a required step in applying to Ye Night Academy. Most were issued by the many academies scattered across the Lan Leaf Empire—only those who had completed foundational studies and earned recognition at these schools could be recommended to the Empire’s most prestigious institution. Besides this common route, noble families of the Lan Leaf Empire also had the privilege of recommending their chosen scions to take part in the Ye Night Trials for a chance at admission.

But the letters before him belonged to neither category.

A letter of recommendation recorded in detail the candidate’s name, age, provenance, background, and most importantly, current level of ability. Zhou Yi was eager to see the girl’s identity, and quickly learned her name: Liu Ru, just fourteen this year—the Academy’s minimum age for entry.

She hailed from the eastern borderlands of the Lan Leaf Empire, which explained her hair color. But then he noticed a lack of academic record—she had not received any formal education at any academy.

Zhou Yi frowned, reading on.

The letter was signed by the Mercenary Guild.

He was inwardly exasperated.

He turned to the other letter, belonging to the boy who stood behind Liu Ru.

Su Ziye, fourteen, also from the eastern frontier, no educational background, and again, the recommender: the Mercenary Guild.

He studied the pair more closely.

Liu Ru’s beauty was beyond question, but her bearing also carried an unmistakable air of nobility. Even standing still, Zhou Yi felt as if she were the one conducting the interview.

The boy behind her was much plainer—his enormous pack nearly as tall as himself, dutifully holding the umbrella for the girl, wholly unremarkable in appearance.

Seeing Zhou Yi lost in thought, Liu Ru spoke: “Is there a problem?”

“No, no problem at all,” Zhou Yi replied quickly.

Of course there was no issue—the Mercenary Guild certainly had the right to recommend students to Ye Night Academy. In fact, its headquarters was located right here in Ye Night City.

The trouble was, the Guild’s recommendations were never straightforward.

Others wrote recommendations for their own: students of notable talent and outstanding grades, prodigious young heirs—always to bring honor and glory to their own houses.

But the Mercenary Guild’s recommendations were for outsiders.

Which made sense—the Guild had few “insiders” to speak of. It existed as a coordinating body for various mercenary groups, but had no real authority over them. Thus, while it possessed the right to recommend candidates, these slots were more often traded as bargaining chips, either openly sold or awarded as prizes for mercenary assignments. Every year, a number of applicants would arrive bearing the Guild’s recommendation—of all kinds and backgrounds.

As a quasi-commercial organization, the Guild was pragmatic to a fault.

They would give you the letter—but for any trouble that followed, you were on your own.

In short: not their concern.

As a result, every year, the Academy paid special attention to the candidates recommended by the Mercenary Guild. And it was precisely these two who stood before Zhou Yi now.

“The admission rate for the Guild’s recommended candidates is never high,” Zhou Yi muttered under his breath as he carefully registered the two applications.

Liu Ru and Su Ziye waited quietly in the rain.

Soon, Zhou Yi finished recording their details and, with practiced ease, traced a line across the back of the registration forms before returning the letters of recommendation.

“Nine o’clock in the morning, June 6th. Present your recommendation at the Academy gates for the assessment,” Zhou Yi said to Liu Ru.

Liu Ru nodded. Su Ziye reached out to collect the two letters, tucking them away. As the pair prepared to leave, Zhou Yi called after them, “Excuse me, Liu Ru.”

Though she had yet to pass the Ye Night Trials, as a candidate she could be addressed as a fellow student.

“Is there something you need?” Liu Ru turned her head, asking calmly.

“Have you found accommodations in the city?” Zhou Yi tried to smile, figuring it never hurt to be courteous to a beautiful girl.

Liu Ru nodded, giving nothing away.

“Living in Ye Night City is no easy feat,” Zhou Yi quipped. “If not for the fact that Academy students may reside on campus, few could afford the rent. After all, this is a small island—once the city walls went up, there was nowhere left to reclaim from the lake.”

“But since you’ve already found a place to stay, I won’t say more.”

With that, he blew into his palm and looked at Liu Ru. “I have a gift for you, Liu Ru. Would you like to see it?”

Liu Ru regarded him, her expression unreadable.

She merely shook her head and turned to leave.

But Zhou Yi clearly saw in her eyes the look one reserves for a fool.

He panicked.

“Don’t misunderstand, Liu Ru! I only want to show you a magic trick.”

As he spoke, he opened his right hand, and where there had been nothing, a tiny wooden box appeared. Though no larger than a little finger, its purplish-red wood and fine grain suggested it was made from a precious hardwood.

“There’s a tremendous secret inside. If you wouldn’t mind, Liu Ru—”

Before he could finish, Liu Ru turned away. Su Ziye tossed the paper umbrella into the air—the umbrella spun, hovering above Liu Ru’s head, shielding her from the rain—then strode quickly back, snatched the box from Zhou Yi’s hand.

“Trying to woo my lady? You’ve got some nerve,” Su Ziye snarled, then shot Liu Ru a glance and hurried after her, ignoring everything else.

Liu Ru had already walked ten paces ahead. The umbrella Su Ziye had thrown spun above her, rising and falling but always sheltering her from the rain. Just as Su Ziye caught up, it descended neatly atop Liu Ru’s head. With perfect timing, he caught the handle and resumed his place at her side. The two vanished into the fine curtain of rain.

Zhou Yi watched them go and sighed.

“I feel as though my heart has been stolen.”