Qian Renxue and Ning Fengzhi chatted cheerfully with the third companion; every student they passed stopped and greeted them respectfully.
Ning Fengzhi returned the greetings with a mild smile, while Qian Renxue, equally easy-going, carried the same refined air as he did.
To each student who saluted she offered a small nod and a gentle smile, the very picture of a wise ruler who honors the wise.
Ning Fengzhi watched and silently approved.
He had chosen the right person.
This was the bearing a future sovereign should possess.
Whether "Xue Qinghe" was acting or not, the display would win the hearts of these young academy students.
It would prove invaluable later, whether for recruiting or for rallying support.
The group soon entered an elegant pavilion.
Qian Renxue turned to a guard: "Invite young Yang Yuan. If he's cultivating, let him be—don't disturb him."
Though she spoke the words, Qian Renxue hoped Yang Yuan was indeed cultivating.
That way she could show respect for talent and, at the same time, keep him from meeting Ning Fengzhi.
She still distrusted her "teacher."
She knew Ning Fengzhi had yielded Yang Yuan only because he did not yet grasp the boy's true worth.
If he ever did, he would move swifter than anyone to secure him—just as his father had once won the present Sword and Bone Douluo.
Fate, however, refused to oblige her.
Today was practical-combat day; Yang Yuan was on the training ground, playfully sparring three classmates at once.
The moment the messenger spoke, he downed his opponents cleanly and hurried over.
He stepped into a finely furnished reception hall.
One sweeping glance took in everyone present, and he instantly guessed their identities.
Ning Fengzhi, Sword DouluoChen Xin, Ning Rongrong.
Seeing him enter, Qian Renxue—in her "Xue Qinghe" guise—laughed warmly and rose to greet him.
"You must be young Yang Yuan?"
"My name is Xue Qinghe; you've surely heard of me."
"I have. I even got into Heaven Dou Academy thanks to your name."
Yang Yuan gave a "simple" grin, his gaze flicking over "Xue Qinghe."
Those star-deep eyes made Qian Renxue's heart skip, as though he might pierce her disguise.
She quickly regained composure and laughed at herself inwardly.
How foolish—
to think Little Brother Yang could see through her.
Even Titled Douluo could not detect her disguise.
However unusual his Spirit, he was merely a twenty-something-level Spirit Grandmaster; how could he uncover her?
A calm smile on her scholarly face, she waved lightly.
"Young brother jokes. I merely gave a gentle push."
"With your talent, any academy on the continent would open its gates."
Yang Yuan chuckled.
"Crown Prince bro, you flatter me."
Qian Renxue silently rolled her eyes at his cheeky grin.
"Quite the familiar little fellow—calling me brother on first meeting."
Still, familiarity was better than rejection; it was a good sign.
She smiled at him. "Since you call me brother, allow me a greeting gift."
"First meetings are tricky; I hope you won't find my present too light."
She brushed a ring on her finger;
an exquisite, carved sandalwood box appeared in her hand.
Setting it on the table, she drew everyone's curious gaze.
Ning Fengzhi narrowed his eyes.
He knew his Disciple would never come unprepared;
this gift had been chosen with care.
He simply wondered what it would be.
While he pondered, Xue Qinghe opened the box.
Inside, on pale-gold velvet, lay a sheathed longsword.
Its scabbard was plain, a dull black that somehow avoided lifelessness.
Qian Renxue gestured gracefully.
"I chanced upon this blade, forged by the Divine CraftsmanLou Gao—true Sharp Weapon quality."
"See for yourself whether it suits you."
Yang Yuan studied the sword; light rippled across his dual pupils as he read its essence.
On Douluo Continent it indeed ranked as a peerless weapon.
He had seen many sword Spirits in Heaven Dou Great Spirit Arena,
yet none had matched this blade.
Without ceremony he lifted the sword from the box and, with a flick of his wrist,
drew it—
CLANG!
A clear ring sang through the hall.
Light glanced off the emerging blade, carrying a faint chill.
Sword Douluo's eyes narrowed. "Fine blade," he murmured.
Fully bared, the sword mirrored the room like autumn water.
Its spine was straight, its edge keen, its gleam cold.
Near the guard, two spirited characters were carved:
Frostbite.
Yang Yuan stood holding the sword; its surface reflected his deep pupils.
In looks and quality it far outclassed the old companion he had carried in Star Dou Great Forest.
He smiled, slid Frostbite back into its sheath,
and nodded with satisfaction.
Sister Qianxun understood him after all!
This comfy gig tasted delicious.
He set the sword back into its box and grinned. "Crown Prince bro, I love the gift."
"I'm glad it pleases you," Qian Renxue answered, laughing softly.
She then introduced Ning Fengzhi's party.
"These three are..."
After the introductions Yang Yuan grinned at Ning Fengzhi and Sword Douluo.
"Youngster Yang Yuan greets School Master Ning and SeniorSword Douluo."
"No need for formality," Ning Fengzhi said genially. "I'm Qinghe's teacher; just call me Uncle Ning."
Though he had no intention of vying for a talent his Disciple had claimed, befriending the boy cost nothing.
Sword DouluoChen Xin merely nodded acknowledgment.
Beside them, Ning Rongrong gave a soft, disgruntled sniff.
"Hmph—he says hello to Dad and Grandpa Sword but not to me."
Ning Fengzhi shot her a warning glance.
"Watch your tone. Is that how you speak to your brother?"
"Apologize at once."
Sword Douluo intervened. "Fengzhi, Rongrong is still young."
Ning Fengzhi sighed. "Uncle Sword, if this goes on you'll spoil her rotten."
He turned back to his daughter.
"Apologize."
With a pout, Ning Rongrong muttered to Yang Yuan,
"Sorry, Brother Yang Yuan.
I shouldn't have spoken like that."
(End of Chapter)
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