☆, The Academy

The next morning, in the end, he still couldn’t make it to the meeting.

Because a courier green sparrow landed outside Yin Biyue’s courtyard.

The paper was thin as cloud stationery, the ink Huizhou sink-ink, and the handwriting the most proper Taige script.

“Lanyuan Academy invites you to visit the residence for a conversation; the mat has been swept in welcome. Respectfully presented by the Dean.”

Even the phrasing was the straight-laced formal address.

Such an invitation, though elaborate, was something any distinguished aristocratic family could produce.

What differed was that the seal at the end of the invitation was not the academy’s “Flourishing Pen” emblem, but the private seal of the Dean.

Lan Yuan Academy was not part of “One Mountain Three Sects, Two Temples of the Buddhist Order, Twelve Palaces of the Demon Sect”; it was neutral. Yet behind the power of those forces, the academy’s shadow was faintly present.

The current leader of the Baopu Sect once studied at the academy, the abbot of Jie Kong Temple had lectured on Dharma there, and among the pillars of any major Central Order sect, one could always find several disciples who hailed from the academy.

Even many prominent officials in the Northern Imperial capital’s court were alumni of Lan Yuan Academy.

Most importantly, the academy’s master was one of the world’s six Sub-Saints.

An invitation personally sealed by such a great figure was, naturally, extraordinary.

Duan Chongxuan clicked his tongue in wonder as he held the invitation.

“Such magical tricks—no wonder he’s the Sub-Sage… Fourth Senior Brother, do you think the spatial array within this seal can carry two people? Shouldn’t we tie ourselves together and go together?”

Go to hell!

Yin Biyue’s mouth twitched slightly.

Space-traveling also drags people along and can tear you to shreds in an instant!

Yin Biyue reached out to take the invitation back and examined it; the wording appeared politely modest, yet it failed to specify a time.

It’s simple: when you receive the invitation, you must leave at once.

He suddenly recalled a coarse saying from the cultivation world:

“Cangya Mountain’s domineering ways are the real deal — ‘if you don’t submit, I’ll beat you into submission; my way is the only right way.’ As for Lanyuan Academy, on the surface it follows rites and is all polite and civil, but it forces you into acceptance without any room to refuse.”

He rubbed the tiny seal at the end of the letter between his fingers.

The red seal paste rose slightly, fine and smooth in texture; it was the most ordinary four-character carving: ‘Headmaster’s Private Seal.’

Duān Chóngxuān watched from the side, face anxious, afraid that in the blink of an eye the person might vanish.

Inside the dean’s seal was embedded a spatial array; pour in true essence and it could open a spatial passage.

Lanyuan Academy is in Yunyang City on the Central Continent, while Cangya Mountain is on the Western Continent — the distance is far more than a thousand miles.

Yet now it could be reached in an instant.

Yin Bi couldn’t imagine why a great figure like the Sub-Sage would want to see him, and he was sure it wasn’t the flimsy reason Duan Chongxuan had guessed —

“because he graduated with good grades back then, the master invited him to lecture.”

During his three years at the academy he didn’t even know which way the dean’s residence door faced.

The deputy dean and a host of instructors handled all the academy’s affairs.

The headmaster seems to be destined to live only in legend.

If you can’t think of it, don’t; in any case, you still have to go and see.

He spoke a little abruptly.

“Junior brother, I’m going.”

Duan Chongxuan hurried up.

“Fourth senior brother, really you’re not considering taking me along?!… Hey, senior brother, senior brother…”

It was as if the babbling cries still lingered at his ears, yet in the blink of an eye he found himself standing on unfamiliar soil.

There were shallow puddles on the blue bricks, and the air still carried a slight coolness from the moisture.

A rain had just fallen over Yunyang City.

The sky had just cleared.

Yin Biyue looked back at his shadow, estimating the time difference and distance between the two continents.

He was standing inside the vermilion gate of the academy, directly facing a guardian stone shaped like a lingzhi fungus, as huge as a mountain.

Its grandeur washed over him.

A little child in a red jacket with a drooping topknot stood by the stone and bowed to him.

“This senior, please follow me. The teacher has been waiting for some time.”

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