Chapter 13: Lin Mengqiu

Forgive the young Taoist for his lack of schooling and experience with the world.

In his eyes, this ordinary classroom within the school was as close to flawless as one could imagine—

The windows gleamed, the space was generous, and the desks and chairs were fashioned from materials far superior to those in the mountain village primary school he had briefly attended as a child. Beyond the standard blackboard, podium, desks and chairs, the classroom boasted modern amenities: a projector, speakers, and other multimedia equipment. Wall-mounted fans circled the perimeter, and both the front and rear of the room were graced with standing air conditioners.

It was not yet time for formal lessons; the students inside were scattered here and there. With a glance, Chen Shian counted fifty-nine desks in all.

Nearly every desk was piled high with books and study materials. Perhaps because of this, the once spacious room now felt a bit crowded.

Yet the atmosphere was not oppressive. On the windowsills sat a few adorable succulents, their owner unknown. Plush toys and cushions rested on unoccupied chairs. Beside the “Today’s Schedule” on the rear blackboard, someone had drawn a cartoon bear nibbling on a pencil, its round belly inscribed with the words “Keep up the good work.”

Class Five, Year Eleven—a place where the pressures of academic advancement mingled with youthful individuality.

Chen Shian withdrew his gaze from the room itself, and the lively figures of boys and girls in the throes of youth filled his vision.

With them came an uproar of startled voices—

“Taoist!”

“Wang Xinlei, get down and call me Dad! Did I lie to you about my intel this time?”

Zou Xiaokun, the class’s resident “news reporter,” crowed triumphantly, his posture as smug as a scholar who had just passed the imperial exams.

Alas, no one paid him any mind; all curiosity and attention fell upon the young Taoist who had just entered the classroom with Teacher Liang.

“A real Taoist?!”

“Is he here to exorcise evil spirits?”

“Amitabha!”

“You’re quoting the wrong line!”

“Don’t ascend to immortality! Don’t ascend! This isn’t the celestial realm!”

“Humble Taoist is not alone!”

“Fellow cultivator, what brings you here?”

“To take you all away!”

“Demon! Fellow Taoist, lend me a hand to subdue this fiend!”

Chen Shian: “...”

Within the territory of his own class, these teenagers displayed no shyness, swarming around Chen Shian as if he were some rare and precious curiosity.

He had dropped out of the mountain village school years ago—this was his first time among so many peers. As a child, he had thought his contemporaries were monkeys; he’d hoped they would be more refined as they grew older, but now found they had only evolved into more abstract versions of the same.

What in the world were they all shouting about?

Wasn’t Class Five supposed to be the elite science track? Aside from the honorary banner hanging by the blackboard, there was little sign of an elite class.

Having left behind the serenity of his mountain monastery for this noisy, chaotic classroom, Chen Shian found himself at a loss—was this “abstractness” the modern way young people made friends? He truly felt out of place.

In the midst of the commotion, the quiet ones stood out all the more.

From the corner of his eye, Chen Shian noticed a girl seated by the window.

Every seat in the room was arranged in pairs, yet the one beside her was empty; she sat alone.

She bent over her exam papers, seemingly enveloped in an invisible barrier that separated her from the surrounding noise, like one submerged in a transparent glass dome.

Her hair was a pale ash-blonde, smooth and flowing down her back, lending her a delicate air. She wore no hair accessories—yet the simple, unadorned style carried its own grace.

The standard blue-and-white school uniform looked plain on everyone else, but on her, it possessed a quiet beauty that was impossible to ignore.

The racket of the classroom rebounded off the walls, but not even her eyelashes trembled. Only when sunlight crept across her exam paper did she lift her head, slender fingers adjusting the curtain to shield her work.

Two girls in the front row, eager to join the excitement, accidentally bumped her desk. Their gazes lingered on her for two seconds before quickly darting away—there was something about her, like the surface of a lake strewn with autumn leaves: clear, but tinged with a cooling chill that discouraged disturbance.

Having finally been interrupted, she looked up and glanced in Chen Shian’s direction.

But it was only a glance; she returned to her work in silence.

...

The unruly atmosphere left Teacher Liang with a headache. As rumors swirled—“There’s something unclean in the classroom, the school has brought in a Taoist to perform rituals”—he could only chide them helplessly:

“What nonsense are you all spouting!”

“Have you finished your papers? I expect them all on my desk before evening self-study. I’ll see who hasn’t done theirs!”

“Exorcisms and rituals—university students might believe such things, but you? Get back to work!”

As their homeroom teacher, Mr. Liang’s words carried weight. The crowd around Chen Shian dispersed, but the buzz of gossip did not die down.

“Shian, come with me a moment.”

As Chen Shian followed Teacher Liang up to the podium, every eye in the room fixed upon him.

“Let me introduce someone,” Mr. Liang cleared his throat. “This is Chen Shian, who will be joining our class from today. Whatever your background outside school, in this classroom you are all classmates. You’re in your second year now—the college entrance exams aren’t far off—so focus, and stop making a fuss over nothing!”

“Shian, please give a brief introduction of yourself.”

The reversal was so swift that as soon as Mr. Liang finished, the room erupted with incredulous exclamations.

“Did I hear that right? Old Liang said our Taoist is joining us as a classmate?!”

“Xiaokun! Your intel was wrong again!”

“Nonsense! When did I say the Taoist was here to exorcise spirits? That was your own assumption!”

“So who guessed right? What were the odds?”

“No one guessed!”

“Damn! Missed a chance to strike it rich!”

Their shock was understandable. Who would have imagined the Taoist was here to enroll as a student?

“So he must be a fake, then? Does guessing ‘fake Taoist’ count as a win?”

The doubt was short-lived. Chen Shian’s self-introduction dispelled it instantly—

“Greetings, fellow students. My name is Chen Shian, courtesy name Chen An, from the Pure Dust Monastery in the northern reaches of Mount Xuanyue. Since childhood I have studied the Tao under my master on the mountain. Now I join your ranks to prepare for the college entrance examination. It is my good fortune to share this classroom with you, and I look forward to your guidance.”

Everyone had introduced themselves upon entering school, but no one recalled what anyone else had said—except now, for this uniquely formal style.

A full name and a courtesy name—who has a courtesy name in this day and age?

Mount Xuanyue was familiar, but the Pure Dust Monastery in the north was not. “Studied the Tao on the mountain since childhood” sounded authentic enough.

Despite the confirmation, his classmates still doubted him.

For one thing, he looked far too young.

He appeared no older than they were, yet claimed to have trained in Taoist arts since childhood. Did he not attend school? Did he study in town by day and return to the mountain at night? Time management at its finest.

Of course, there wasn’t enough time for both, which is why Chen Shian had chosen not to attend school until now.

His introduction finished, Chen Shian said no more, and his classmates did not press him further. There would be time enough to get to know him.

Whether real or fake, everyone was delighted by his arrival. After all, it was something to brag about to friends in other classes—a Taoist as a classmate!

When he finished speaking, the room burst into enthusiastic applause.

Now the question was: where would their Taoist classmate sit?

Teacher Liang sent a student to the office for a new desk, and right before the quiet girl’s eyes, he set it beside hers.

The girl, who had quietly been working on her papers, at last showed some expression.

She lifted her clear eyes to Teacher Liang, a giant question mark seeming to hang above her head. She said nothing, but her silence was eloquent.

“Well... Mengqiu, Principal Lin arranged for Shian to sit here. You have strong grades, so help him with his studies...”

Beside Teacher Liang stood the young Taoist, waiting to take his seat.

She shifted her gaze, looking at him.

Chen Shian met her eyes without hesitation, offering a gentle smile and a nod.

She said nothing, returning her attention to her work.

Once the desks were set, Chen Shian adjusted his robe and sat down, beginning to organize his new workspace.

Perhaps it had been too long since she’d shared a desk; the sudden presence of a stranger unsettled her, even though Chen Shian’s movements were quiet. The soft sounds still made her gently furrow her brows.

The subtle displeasure was well concealed, but not from Chen Shian’s discerning eye.

Whether she was unhappy with the seating arrangement or the noise, he felt compelled to say something—after all, the uproar was his fault, however unintended.

“Sorry for disturbing your work,” he said, offering an apologetic smile.

She remained silent, but the faint trace of annoyance on her face visibly faded.

So she’s not impossible to talk to after all!

Chen Shian blinked, recalling the talkative girl he’d met on the way—this new deskmate was her polar opposite.

“My name is Chen Shian. May I ask your name?”

He waited, smiling, meeting her silence with his own quiet persistence.

“Lin Mengqiu.”

She finally spoke. Her voice was not loud, but each syllable was distinct, the ending trailing off softly, without any unnecessary inflection.

Her voice, like her presence, was as cool and clear as spring water chilled on ice, drifting through the air with a crystalline chill.

Only then did Chen Shian realize the rest of the class had fallen silent at some point.

“Did I see that right...? The Taoist is sitting with the class monitor...!”

“He’s doomed! May you not meet a tragic end, fellow cultivator...!”

“Let’s start a betting pool...!”

“What are we betting on this time?”

“How long the Taoist can last as the class monitor’s seatmate!”

“?”

Chen Shian’s ears were sharp; even these whispered asides were clear to him.

Hmph... a bunch of abstract monkeys!

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