Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 12

Yang Sheng, who had been watching from below the platform, also realized something was off. He had kept his eyes on his younger sister—not out of favoritism, but because he was worried she might go overboard and cause irreversible harm. But he hadn’t expected this seemingly thin and frail human boy to hold out for so long. It had already far surpassed his expectations.

Those last few moves—others may have seen them as lucky counters during passive defense, but Yang Sheng had seen it clearly: it was a deliberate setup to lure her into a trap.

He was starting to doubt the background of this human boy.

Being knocked down by a human would’ve been a major blow to Yang Ling’s pride. But instead of reacting with humiliation and rage as Wei Huan expected, she stood up silently. Her bright apricot eyes locked onto him, chin still raised in arrogant defiance.

“Who told you to hold back? If you’ve got the guts, hit me with everything you’ve got.”

She charged again, her figure slicing through the air, her young voice fierce and sharp: “A weakling doesn’t deserve to be my opponent!”

Wei Huan laughed, stepping aside to dodge her fierce strike. The corners of his lips curved. “Alright, I’ll take that as your acknowledgment of my strength.”

Above them, the giant hourglass spilled its final grain of sand. It flipped once in the air and came to a halt again.

“First half—over.”

They only had three minutes for halftime. Wei Huan quickly checked over his injuries. He’d never cared about this sort of thing before, but now that he had a human body, he wasn’t as durable. As he tilted his head to check his back, he noticed something stuck to his shoulder and reached over.

A spiky white furball, like a sea urchin, sat in his palm.

Holy cr*p—wasn’t this…?

With nowhere to hide it, Wei Huan pretended nothing happened and casually tossed it aside. But the little furball let out a squeaky sound and immediately bounced back, springing high into the air and landing right on Wei Huan’s head. It let out cheerful “yiyiyiyi” sounds as it bounced.

“Are you trying to sell me out…” Wei Huan’s eyes reflexively darted toward Yun Yongzhou, only to find the other already looking at him—with less coldness than before, and something else mixed in.

He thought dying would’ve freed him from this furball…

This little guy had been an old friend of his for years.

Back when Wei Huan was on a mission, this thing had clung to him and sneaked into Shanhai. Since then, it refused to leave. No one knew exactly what kind of demon it was. It didn’t seem to have any offensive powers—only the ability to grow and shrink in size.

“I think it recognizes people,” Yang Sheng analyzed. “No matter who you try to stick it to, it always finds its way back to you. And no matter what illusion someone casts to change your appearance, it can still track you down.”

“No kidding,” Wei Huan said helplessly. “Last time I asked someone to help me go invisible and skip class, this idiot stuck to me and completely exposed me. Total pig teammate.”

The furball squeaked again in protest. Wei Huan glanced at it. “You’re still squeaking? Squeak one more time and I’ll nail you to the wall with a wind blade.”

The furball immediately shrank down to the size of a little golden beetle and hid under Wei Huan’s collar.

Wei Huan and Yang Sheng stood in the Fuyao formation on the Shanhai Plaza. Right next to them was the Yansui formation. Yun Yongzhou had only just arrived, but already there was a stir among both sides. Wei Huan turned his head and couldn’t help sneaking a glance.

The two of them stood barely ten centimeters apart—one in a navy Fuyao school uniform, the other in deep red from Yansui. Both were at the center of attention.

But then, the previously quiet furball suddenly leapt out and landed between them. It swelled rapidly to a diameter of over ten centimeters, getting stuck right between Yun Yongzhou’s and Wei Huan’s arms.

“What the h*ll are you doing?” Wei Huan reached out to yank it off, but no matter how he pulled, it wouldn’t budge—and the more he pulled, the louder it squeaked. The flag-raising ceremony had already started, and the dean was onstage. Wei Huan was panicking. “Shhh—stop squeaking or I’ll smack you. Let go already!”

Yun Yongzhou frowned. Wei Huan got even more flustered. “I swear, I didn’t put him up to this.”

That probably made him look even more suspicious.

Wei Huan tried to shuffle away a bit, but the furball was stuck fast. As he pulled, Yun Yongzhou was dragged along too. He frowned but said nothing—his light blade already flying out, shooting straight toward the furball. The little thing shrieked in terror.

“Hey, no no no!” Wei Huan reached out to block the blade. The tip hovered just a hair away from his skin. Yun Yongzhou’s amber eyes bore into him, still not retracting the blade.

“If you stab him, he’ll die,” Wei Huan muttered, carefully withdrawing his hand before gripping the blade, trying to pull it aside. It didn’t budge. Extremely awkward.

He had no choice but to awkwardly tug at the furball again. Still stuck.

This was beyond embarrassing. Wei Huan took a deep breath. Whatever. Let it stay until the ceremony ends.

But Yun Yongzhou clearly wasn’t okay with being stuck to Wei Huan like this. Girls in the crowd were already whispering and giggling. He finally retracted the blade, his face showing impatience, and gave his right arm a sharp tug.

“Ying!” the furball squealed again.

Wei Huan was yanked into the space between the two formations, stumbling so hard he nearly fell.

“D*mn it.” Wei Huan was getting anxious too—like he wanted to be stuck together like this? Thinking that, he lifted his left arm and yanked hard to the right. Yun Yongzhou was pulled along a little and staggered unsteadily.

He seemed even more annoyed. With a sharp swing of his arm, the force was tremendous. Wei Huan was directly flung into the Yansui formation, crashing solidly into Yun Yongzhou and—of all things—landing right on top of him.

“Ying ying ying! Ying ying ying ying ying…”

Gravity and momentum were a powerful duo, forcing the two boys into the closest contact imaginable.

The wind that followed Wei Huan’s fall lifted Yun Yongzhou’s bangs, revealing the beautiful flame mark underneath. His gaze, like a drifting leaf, landed there before involuntarily sliding downward—to meet Yun Yongzhou’s eyes.

In those eyes, clear as melting snow, he saw a startled reflection of himself.

D*mn furball.

“Second half countdown.” Yun Yongzhou’s calm, aloof voice snapped Wei Huan out of his thoughts. He turned his head to look at him. His expression was still flawlessly indifferent, exuding an untouchable nobility no matter the moment.

The little furball on Wei Huan’s head hopped its way onto his shoulder, letting out soft little “ying ying” sounds.

He doesn’t seem to have noticed anything, Wei Huan thought. Or maybe Yun Yongzhou didn’t remember anything about him at all. Just a small, sticky furball demon that only clung to him—how would a proud son of the sun remember?

Wei Huan took a deep breath. The countdown had only ten seconds left. He was seriously debating whether to just forfeit. But he didn’t know if his current scores were enough to scrape into Shanhai. If he gave up now, all his efforts might be for nothing.

Yang Ling raised her left hand, a flame gathering in her palm, slowly blooming into a red lotus.

Her opponent was a Bifang bird. There was no way he could win.

“You’ve got some spine, not surrendering even when facing me,” Yang Ling’s fingers curled, and the fire lotus vanished. When her slender fingers unfurled again, another red lotus blossomed in her hand. “But…”

A dozen red lotuses shot toward Wei Huan in an instant, the scorching flames tearing through the air.

Yang Ling raised an eyebrow and, in her soft, childish voice, said, “You might actually die from this, you know.”

Wei Huan dodged each fire lotus one by one, panting heavily as he stared at Yang Ling. These tricks were nothing more than appetizers for her—utterly trivial.

Noticing that Wei Huan, usually so talkative, had gone quiet, Yang Ling smiled. The violet demonic mark at the corner of her eye lifted beautifully. A pair of dark blue wings with red spots spread behind her as she took to the sky, her flapping wings stirring up violent winds.

Wei Huan lowered his head. The strong gusts almost forced his eyes shut, his feet sliding back bit by bit—his thin frame couldn’t withstand such demonic wind.

He had never imagined that one day, he too would be forced back by the wind.

Yang Ling raised both hands. “You really don’t know what’s good for you,” she said lightly. “Then let’s end this quickly, so my brother won’t say I bullied you.” As she spoke, she hurled the red lotus in her palms toward the ground—two giant red lotuses exploded instantly.

Boom! Boom! Two loud explosions rocked the field. The spot where Wei Huan had just stood was blown apart, smoke and dust blanketing the spectators’ view like a dense fog.

The audience in the stands held their breath.

“That human kid’s done for, huh?”

“Bifang really is amazing—fire techniques are the most powerful offensively. But the little girl didn’t aim directly at his vital points—still doesn’t want to kill him, it seems.”

“After all, this kind of match doesn’t have much meaning. What demon would want to fight a human? It’s embarrassing.”

The thick smoke gradually dispersed, revealing a standing figure.

He was still not down… Yang Ling frowned. With a flick of her forearm, a fire lotus shot straight at Wei Huan’s right leg and exploded like artillery. Just as she wanted, his right knee gave out, and he collapsed to one knee.

“At this rate, he’ll be unable to stand soon.”

“Once he can’t stand, it’s a loss.”

Yang Ling had no interest in dragging it out. She used the same tactic again. Wei Huan finally dropped to both knees, bracing himself on the wreckage with his palms.

Yun Yongzhou stared at the boy kneeling amidst the debris. The smoke obscured his face, but that posture reminded him of someone else.

He couldn’t understand why this human wouldn’t surrender. No matter how much professional training he’d had, there was no way he could defeat a powerful fire-element demon of noble blood.

The only explanation…

Yang Sheng, who had been observing from below, suddenly flew up and hovered in the air, carefully studying the human boy.

[He can’t move,] Yang Sheng used mind-speech to speak to Yun Yongzhou, shooting him a look.

Yun Yongzhou glanced back coolly but said nothing. He looked at Wei Huan.

The truth was just that—Wei Huan didn’t refuse to surrender. He simply couldn’t move at all!

His entire body stung, his limbs were stiff—likely due to the intense fight earlier triggering the poison of the Gou Wen in his body. At this point, forget fighting—he couldn’t even stand up.

If Yang Ling launched one final strike to his chest, he’d definitely fall and be unable to get up again.

“I won’t torture you anymore,” Yang Ling said, twirling one of her twin ponytails. “After all, you’re still considered gutsy among your weak little species.” Her right arm snapped open, palm aimed at Wei Huan. A giant red lotus shot toward his drooping head like an arrow.

In that split second, Wei Huan felt his body was no longer under his control.

His head suddenly lifted, and just as the fire lotus was about to strike him, a mysterious force—like something yanking on every bone from his crown—forced him to stare directly at the incoming lotus.

Yang Sheng was startled. [That’ll kill him, Yun Yongzhou!]

Yun Yongzhou raised his hand—a light shield shot out. But the next moment, something even more shocking happened.

Yang Ling’s fire lotus… stopped. It stopped less than three centimeters from Wei Huan’s forehead!

“How could this be…” Yang Ling pushed hard against her palm, but she clearly felt a powerful force preventing the red lotus she summoned from moving any closer. She channeled her spiritual energy again, even placing her left hand over her right wrist, but that force only grew stronger. “What’s going on…”

Two opposing forces were pulling against each other. Wei Huan, on the other hand, seemed as if he were being controlled for a brief moment—this clearly wasn’t his own power.

Boom—

Yang Ling was ultimately defeated. That red lotus was forcefully repelled and exploded in the air, blooming into a thick mushroom cloud of smoke. Wei Huan’s body went limp, and the shockwave from the explosion sent him flying off the dueling platform.

Just as Yang Sheng was about to rush over to catch him, Yun Yongzhou’s light rope arrived first, wrapping around the unconscious Wei Huan.

Though he caught him in time, Yun Yongzhou was visibly distracted. He frowned and looked down at the hand he hadn’t even moved.

Sparks danced at his fingertips, crackling lightly.

But… he hadn’t summoned any fire.

With a flip of the wrist, the light rope lifted Wei Huan’s body and tossed him gently into the air, where Yun Yongzhou, wings spread, caught him in his arms.

The wind lifted his bangs, revealing the unconscious boy’s unfamiliar face.

His heart pounded violently against his hollow chest, a dull pressure weighing on his sternum. His fingers clenched instinctively—this was the first time in seven years…

…he had seized even a sliver of light.