When Quinn Shepherd woke up, it was already afternoon. The boy was just about to head into the courtyard to fetch water and wash up, but as soon as he stepped out the door, he saw more than a dozen sword cases lined up neatly in the yard. Besides the sword cases, there was also a pile of jade pendants, hairpins, and jewelry.
Quinn was puzzled. From outside the door came a voice, trying to sound ingratiating: "Is that Sister Fox Immortal? I’m here to redeem my lady’s belongings—could you take a look…"
Lina the Spirit Fox’s voice answered, “That’s not enough money. Your lady’s sword case, her hairpin, her bracelet—none of these are ordinary things. This bit of Grandrise coin won’t do.”
“What’s Lina up to?”
Quinn was still puzzled, bleary-eyed from sleep and unwashed, so he fetched water to wash his face. Outside, the voice continued, nervously pleading: “My lady only gave me this bag of money—there really isn’t any more. Please, Sister Fox Immortal, have mercy. The sword case is her academy blade, and the hairpin and bracelet were gifts from her elders…”
"Fine, wait a moment."
The door swung open. Quinn saw Lina dash inside, a money pouch floating behind her. The white fox worked her magic: a whirlwind swept up a sword case and a few ornaments, and she gleefully carried them out to hand over to the person at the door.
The servant thanked her profusely and left.
Quinn finished washing his face and brushed his teeth. The little white fox darted back in, finally noticing him, and exclaimed in delight: “You’re up, Young Master? Young Master, we’re rich!” With that, she flung open the door to the west room. Quinn looked in—over twenty bulging money pouches were piled on the floor.
Lina opened the money pouches—Grandrise coins poured out, covering the floor.
Quinn was dumbfounded, speechless for a long moment.
Lina was brimming with pride. “Young Master beat up those scholars so badly they couldn’t show their faces to redeem their own things—they had to send their servants instead. We made a killing!”
Quinn rinsed his mouth, spat out the water, and shook his head. "Lina, this is a bit much. I’ve already beaten them up twice, and now you’re looting them and demanding ransom on top of it. If they pay the ransom, how am I supposed to have the nerve to hit them again next time?"
Lina stuck out her tongue, a bit annoyed. “You already beat them up once? Last time you didn’t loot them? That’s a huge loss! You know the rules in the Great Ruins better than anyone, Young Master! You’ve always said, ‘If you seize it by skill, it doesn’t count as stealing.’”
Quinn shook his head. “If you rob them and then take their money, I’m afraid I’ll get soft from collecting cash and start feeling sentimental—it’ll be hard to hit them next time. Still, we’re almost out of money, so this haul should keep us going for a while. No more robbing until we’re broke again—slow streams run long.”
Lina nodded eagerly. “You’re awake, Young Master—I'll go make something to eat.”
"Make what? We’re rich now—let’s go into the city and eat something good! Mountain delicacies, seafood, dragon liver, phoenix gall, you pick!"
One boy and one fox headed out, Lina carrying the money bag. The Scholars’ Quarters housed many students, and when they saw Quinn and the fox passing by, they hurried to shut their doors, not daring to meet his eyes.
Quinn was confused. The story about him beating up the scholars seemed to have spread throughout the whole academy, but he was sure he hadn’t told anyone—so who leaked it?
Next to the Scholars’ Quarters was the Royal Courtyard, home to princes, princesses, and ducal ladies. By decree of the Imperial Preceptor, royal offspring didn’t need to take entrance exams—once they turned fifteen, they could enter the Imperial Academy directly. Of course, their noble status meant they couldn’t live with ordinary scholars, so a separate courtyard was set aside for them.
Wes Young was chatting with several princes, grinning: “You have no idea how lively it’s been in the Scholars’ Quarters. That Quinn Shepherd beat up those scholars again—absolutely tragic. Just don’t tell anyone it was me who spread the story…”
One of the princes asked in surprise, "That kid from the Great Ruins is really that strong?"
“Not bad.”
Wes Young boasted, “He’s about as skilled as I am, just has weird moves. Honestly, I think the scholars in the Quarters are just useless.”
Another prince laughed, “The Scholars’ Quarters crowd have always been arrogant, thinking they earned their spots through real skill, and they’ve always looked down on us royals. Looks like they’ve finally met their match.”
Quinn walked out of the Scholars’ Quarters and ran into a young man coming straight toward him, travel-worn and carrying a huge pack nearly as tall as himself, square and solid, with a few weapons sticking out. Despite the dust, he looked imposing, radiating a fierce, martial aura that felt almost aggressive.
The two met face to face. Quinn felt the boy’s aggressive aura and instinctively assumed a defensive stance, ready to counterattack. The energy between them made the newcomer stop in his tracks as well.
Though he radiated martial energy, the young man was polite, bowing and smiling: “Are you the new junior?”
Quinn returned the bow. “Just started at the Academy. Senior, you’re back from out of town?”
“On leave—I went to the front lines with the border army.”
The young man smiled, “I’m Wayne Shen. If you need anything, just let me know.”
Quinn introduced himself. The two passed by each other, only relaxing and striding off once the tension between their energies faded.
“That new junior is strong…” Wayne Shen glanced back at Quinn heading down the mountain, deep in thought.
“Senior is back!”
The Scholars’ Quarters erupted in excitement. Many scholars came out to greet Wayne Shen. He smiled, “Friends, it’s only been a month since we parted—why all the fuss? Hm, why is everyone injured? Tina Qu, you too? What happened?”
The scholars in the Quarters looked ashamed.
Tina Qu, embarrassed, said, “Senior, you don’t know—recently a Great Ruins abandoned person came to the Academy, incredibly strong. At the entrance exam, Daoist Rowan was wounded by his wooden sword, and he made a big splash in front of the emperor, who allowed him into the Imperial Academy. We were furious and tried to force him out—how could a slave study alongside us?”
Wayne Shen said, “Daoist Rowan is impressive, and anyone who can injure him must be extraordinary! If you picked a fight, of course you got beaten. In the same realm, none of you could match Rowan.”
Tina Qu protested, “Do you know our status? In Everpeace, abandoned people are slaves—slaves and livestock are worth the same. If we study with livestock, aren’t we seen as livestock ourselves? Scholars at the Academy are at least eighth-rank officials; do abandoned people deserve that? What about the Academy’s reputation? And Senior, we didn’t hit him—he hit us, twice!”
Wayne Shen was surprised. “You went to fight him, so of course he beat you. That’s only fair. But if you lost and he kept going, hitting you again, that’s where he was wrong.”