Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 15

Since waking up, Wei Huan hadn’t seen his lifesaver again. At first, he thought Yun Yongzhou genuinely liked him and helped out multiple times. But when he saw the man wasn’t following him around, he figured probably not.

Maybe it was just pity.

Squatting in the temporary dorm’s garden, Wei Huan gently stroked an injured baby flower sparrow. As he petted it, he tapped its tiny head and mimicked Yun Yongzhou’s usual cold tone, “Why are you following me?”

The little sparrow opened its pale yellow beak and chirped once, but Wei Huan immediately hushed it, “Shut up.”

“So noisy.”

Wei Huan really got into character. As he scolded, he gently petted the sparrow’s head again. “Aiyo, poor little thing. Can’t fly, can’t fight. You look so pitiful… I guess I’ll—”

“What are you doing?”

Jing Yun’s voice suddenly came. Wei Huan jumped, and the fluffy little creature also got scared and dove into the bushes. Wei Huan quickly withdrew his hand and awkwardly flailed his arms like an old man doing exercises in a park, pacing back and forth. “Nothing! Just working out.” He clutched his chest with a weak expression. “Still recovering from serious injuries, gotta nurse myself back to health. What about you? Here to grab breakfast with me?”

Jing Yun shook his head. “This morning is the Shanhai Academy’s House Selection Ceremony. I remember you were still unconscious when the announcement was made, so I rushed over to tell you.”

House Selection Ceremony? Wei Huan snapped awake. D*mn, he’d been too distracted thinking about Yun Yongzhou possibly changing his ways and had completely forgotten about this.

“That old immortal tree spirit’s gonna have his fun again.”

Most demon universities used a voluntary system—students would fill out a form during the exams, and the school would assign them based on score and preference. But not Shanhai. Their sorting method was brutal and straightforward.

“You mean…” Jing Yun whispered the last three words, “old immortal tree spirit… that one?”

Wei Huan looked up at the tree surrounded by a crowd in the distance. “Yep, that’s the one.”

They entered a glass greenhouse full of enormous strange flowers and plants. In the center was a glowing lawn, where only one giant tree grew—twenty meters tall.

“This tree looks weird—so tall and big, but the branches droop like a willow. Only the leaves aren’t slender like a willow’s.” Jing Yun took off his glasses to wipe them, then put them back on. “This is the tree that sorts us?”

“Yep.” The new students were being organized by teachers in white uniforms into a square formation. Wei Huan stood behind Jing Yun and quietly reminded him, “When it’s your turn, you must say its name first.”

“Why?”

“Because that tree has a twisted sense of humor. If you don’t call its name, it’ll mess with you.”

Just as Wei Huan finished, the first student stepped in front of the tree. That demon had a patch of red feathers on his chest, golden tail feathers behind him, and a fancy green feather stuck in his head—a flamboyant look. He even winked at the students below.

“The peacock from the Chi clan again.” Wei Huan muttered. Jing Yun overheard and asked, “That’s a Chi? I think their feathers are pretty!”

Wei Huan gave him a you’ve got to be kidding me look, then looked up helplessly. “Alright, I officially don’t understand what kids these days find attractive.”

At that moment, the Chi guy was suddenly caught mid-air by long branches. His colorful wings flapped desperately, but he couldn’t break free or fly away. He shouted in panic, “You d*mn tree spirit! What are you doing?!”

At those words, a grinning face appeared on the thick tree trunk. “I’m not doing anything~” it said, while another branch curled around the Chi’s legs. “Do you know what my name is?”

“Wow, looks like tentacle play,” Wei Huan teased.

Jing Yun looked like an obedient student. “What’s tentacle play?”

Wei Huan replied earnestly, “It’s when two good friends hold hands.”

Jing Yun looked at his own hand. “That’s… weird.”

Wei Huan nodded. “You’re right.”

“Help! There’s a pervert here!” Chi was still struggling in mid-air when a figure descended from the sky. He craned his neck like he saw a savior. “Save me!”

From a distance, Wei Huan immediately saw the white wings of the person arriving and muttered to himself, “Why is he everywhere?”

“That’s the one who saved you!” Jing Yun shook Wei Huan’s arm excitedly. “Look! It’s him!”

Yeah, yeah, I can see…

From the moment Yun Yongzhou appeared, Wei Huan’s attention began to wander.

He was still wearing that instructor uniform, legs slightly apart, right hand unfastening the metal cuff on his left wrist, then neatly rolling the sleeve up to his forearm, revealing toned muscles.

All these years, and he still doesn’t tan.

“His name is Yun Yongzhou, right? He’s so handsome.”

Tch, I used to be handsome too.

But objectively speaking, Yun Yongzhou was indeed attractive—no matter how diverse beauty standards got, no one could deny that face.

Just then, Wei Huan noticed something small hopping on Yun Yongzhou’s shoulder. He squinted. What the—wasn’t that the whiny clingy thing?!

Wei Huan’s first instinct was to cover his face.

That little furball used to cling to him like glue when he was alive—couldn’t even shake it off. But now? Only seven years after his death and it’s already latched onto Yun Yongzhou’s leg. Great judge of character, huh.

“Hey? Who’s that behind Yun Yongzhou? Do you know him, Ah Heng?”

At that, Wei Huan glanced over. The man Jing Yun was referring to wasn’t wearing the same black instructor uniform as Yun Yongzhou but a white one. He looked gentle and refined, with a smiling face—so different from Yun Yongzhou’s cold one. His pale green eyes were clear as ever.

Seven years apart, and it looked like everyone else stayed at Shanhai except him. A strange emotion stirred in Wei Huan—if he hadn’t died back then, maybe he’d be the one welcoming the new students now.

“What are you spacing out for?” Jing Yun interrupted. Wei Huan shook his head, still watching the two figures in the distance. “The person you just asked about is from Shangshan Academy. His name is Su Buyu. Looks like he’s a teacher there now.”

“His demon energy…” Jing Yun hesitated.

“You’re right,” Wei Huan replied directly. “He’s a half-demon. A descendant of the Jiao clan and humans.” Then added, “He’s a good person… I heard from a friend that he’s especially gentle.”

Then Wei Huan returned to his usual antics. “Fuyou and Shangshan are both great names. Fuyou—spring breeze on the face. Shangshan—gentle as water. As for Yansui…” Wei Huan glanced toward Yun Yongzhou and shook his head, “Raging fire cooking oil.”

Jing Yun immediately followed, “Unaffected by worldly smoke.”

Wei Huan clapped him on the shoulder, “In deep waters and scorching flames.”

“To brave boiling water and burning fire!”

What is this, an idiom relay game…?

Wei Huan’s inexplicable competitiveness kicked in. “Burning with anger.”

“Dry wood and raging fire! The backyard’s on fire! Uh—mmph mmph…” Getting carried away, Jing Yun was silenced by Wei Huan’s hand over his mouth. “Too far, too far, pipe down, little Chongming.”

The two-man stand-up comedy act drew only a cold glance from the target of their jokes—Yun Yongzhou, who clearly had no intention of helping the still-flailing Chi. Fortunately, Su Buyu wasn’t going to just stand by. He smiled gently at the panicking Chi and said, “Don’t be scared, just say ‘Yun Yang.’”

The overly-decorated Chi Bi hiccupped in terror, “Yun—hic—Yang…”

Immediately, the branches released him. He fell straight down before he could spread his wings, but Su Buyu raised a hand, and a stream of water like silk rose to catch him, gently placing him on the ground.

Little Chi looked as if he were basking in a spring breeze. His eyes sparkled with tears as he got up, smoothed his feathers, puffed up his chest, and resumed his showy, self-adoring stance.

Su Buyu smiled, eyes slightly downcast, two shallow dimples appearing. With his hands behind his back, he turned to the large tree and spoke softly, “Yun Yang. Let’s get started.”

As soon as he finished speaking, all the tree’s branches slowly lifted, glowing faintly with golden light. The tree spirit spoke solemnly, “Come.”

Chi stood frozen in place until a branch gently nudged his back. He stepped forward. One red branch stretched out, its leaf unfurling and touching his forehead. In that moment, he couldn’t move—not even the feathers on his body fluttered.

Jing Yun leaned close and whispered, “What’s it doing?”

“Yun Yang can perceive your potential based on your demon energy. In other words, it assigns you to the most suitable institute based on your attributes.”

Jing Yun’s eyes widened. “Then I…”

“No doubt you’ll end up in Fuyou,” Wei Huan replied without hesitation.

Jing Yun nodded and was about to ask something else, but caught himself, stealing a glance at Wei Huan—who caught it immediately.

“Don’t ask. If you ask, I’ll be expelled.”

Jing Yun was shocked. “What?! That’s impossible! How could you be expelled?”

Wei Huan shrugged. “Just kidding. Maybe it’s random. Hopefully they won’t kick me out…”

Shanhai had never admitted human students before. Even now, Wei Huan was the only human in the entire academy. He was just as anxious—he had no demon power at all now, so what would Yun Yang base his assignment on?

Just then, the branch on Chi’s forehead pulled back, and the face in the tree trunk slowly opened its mouth.

“Fuyou academy.”

Chi quickly regained the ability to move. He brushed the golden feathers on his shoulder, smugly walking down. “I knew it—I was definitely meant for Fuyao.”

“Next.”

“You have a pretty tail,” Yun Yang said with a knowing look, even though the carp demon hadn’t shown his tail. He smiled, “Shanshan Academy.”

“Next.”

“This one’s a good seedling for Jiahui Academy.”

…

As the new students stepped up one by one, Wei Huan’s heart sank like a stone thrown into a lake. The number of people in front of him grew fewer and fewer, until finally, it was Jing Yun’s turn, who had been standing right in front of him.

“I—I’m going up now.”

Wei Huan nodded, wearing a confident smile as if he’d already predicted it. “Told you I’d be right.” As he finished, his gaze wandered elsewhere—and found Yun Yongzhou, standing far away, staring straight at him. The stare made Wei Huan’s skin crawl.

What’s with this guy? Don’t tell me he’s actually into me? Oh god… Yun Yongzhou really does like men?

Since they were already making eye contact, it felt rude not to respond. Thinking this, Wei Huan forced out a smile at him.

The little furball on Yun Yongzhou’s shoulder suddenly began hopping like crazy, squealing nonstop like it was greeting Wei Huan.

This dumb ball…

But then its new owner turned away indifferently after seeing Wei Huan’s smile, looking distant. He even plucked the bouncing furball off his shoulder and cupped it in his hand.

“Ying—mmph mmph mmph…”

Ignored. Wei Huan felt like he must be out of his mind. No—Yun Yongzhou was even more messed up. Guys like him, cold and aloof, even if they did like someone, would still have that icy face. People like that deserved to stay single for life.

Jing Yun, having left the line, had no idea about all the small gestures going on between Wei Huan and Instructor Yun. Nervously swallowing, he walked up to the tree spirit and opened his mouth awkwardly but politely, “Hi… Yun Yang…” He had intended to wave, but his arm froze midair and dropped behind his back.

“What a polite child,” Yun Yang said warmly. The red branch extended again and connected with Jing Yun. Without making things difficult, after a moment Yun Yang said with a gentle smile, “Little Chongming, from now on, you’re a student of Fuyao Academy.”

Excited, Jing Yun immediately looked at Wei Huan—his eyes lit up behind his glasses, and he looked like he wanted to jump for joy but didn’t dare. He was absolutely adorable. Wei Huan seemed a little lost in thought—ten years ago, he too had stood beneath this ancient tree spirit.

[This kid was born for Fuyao.]

That voice still rang in his ears. But the one who was born for Fuyao… had already died once.

Standing to the side, Su Buyu gently reminded him, “Little classmate, you can join the Fuyao Academy line now.”

“Okay!” Jing Yun bowed several times to Su Buyu before hurrying to the end of the Fuyao line, marked by a deep blue banner.

Then it was Wei Huan’s turn. He took a deep breath and walked step by step to Yun Yang Tree Spirit. Behind him, voices swirled around in waves.

“That human actually came?”

“He’s got no demon core or power—how will he be sorted? Where to? Is the school trying to humiliate him publicly?”

“You’re giving Yun Yang a hard time hahaha.”

“I think he’s kind of pitiful.”

“What’s so pitiful? He brought it on himself. Just a human—doesn’t know his place.”

Wei Huan glanced to the side and found Yun Yongzhou still silently watching him. Quickly turning his head, he faced the tree spirit and called its name. “Yun Yang.”

“A human?” Yun Yang burst out laughing. “There’s actually a human?”

All the branches rose and spread out, swirling around Wei Huan and pushing him closer. Though he had experienced this once before, Wei Huan still felt resistance—after all, this time he was in a human body. Obviously, Yun Yang wouldn’t detect any demon energy, much less assign him to a house.

“Don’t be afraid,” Su Buyu’s voice came softly from behind, as gentle as always. “He won’t hurt you.”

It had been so long since Su Buyu last spoke to him. Wei Huan felt a sting in his nose.

Yun Yang’s branches swirled, the red one pointing directly at Wei Huan’s forehead. The moment the leaf touched his skin, he felt his internal organs churn as if a tsunami had erupted within him. He couldn’t move at all, but inside, chaos surged.

Unable to turn his head, he stared at Yun Yang’s face on the tree trunk, which smiled at him.

“You want to go to Fuyao?”

“Ambitious, huh? But too bad…”

Just as the inner turmoil was settling, something unexpected happened. A searing, burning force suddenly surged within him—like molten lava being drawn out, rushing upward, ready to explode.

“Strange,” Yun Yang muttered, frowning in confusion. “This kid is really strange…” His expression changed several times. “You… No. I can’t say. I can’t say.”

The burning inside Wei Huan left him no time to care about Yun Yang’s odd behavior. But he knew full well: as the Sorting Tree, Yun Yang could only reveal the result, never the reason.

The red branch withdrew. Wei Huan, drained, fell to his knees as the burning slowly faded.

“Kid.”

Hearing the voice, Wei Huan forced his head up to look at Yun Yang.

“There’s a flame hidden in your body.”

Upon hearing those words, Yun Yongzhou narrowed his eyes, his gaze falling on the kneeling Wei Huan’s thin back, his expression heavy.

Wei Huan struggled to his feet. “So?”

Yun Yang extended a branch toward the fluttering banner that resembled flames in the wind. “Yansui Academy.”

The result hit like a bolt from the blue. Who would’ve thought that a human with not a trace of demon energy would be placed in Yansui Academy, known for its outstanding combat strength?

A wave of murmuring broke out. Wei Huan couldn’t care less, nor did he bother to listen. Pressing a hand to the ground, he tried to push himself up.

He knew better than anyone—no matter what others thought or said, he was Nine Phoenix.

The Nine Phoenix had always been worthy of Shanhai, whether it was Fuyou or Yansui.

Su Buyu came over to help him up. Wei Huan murmured a quiet “thank you.” As he looked up, their gazes met for a few fleeting seconds. Su Buyu’s brows furrowed ever so slightly—then quickly returned to normal—as he looked at Wei Huan’s retreating back.

Without looking back, Wei Huan walked toward the line of Yansui’s new students. As he passed by Jing Yun in the Fuyou group, he saw the conflicted expression on his face—probably didn’t expect them to be separated, much less that Wei Huan would be assigned to Yansui.

As he passed, Wei Huan grabbed Jing Yun’s wrist and gave it a squeeze. In a voice only the two of them could hear, he said, “Don’t worry.” Jing Yun just kept staring at him, wide-eyed and clinging with his gaze. Wei Huan walked to the very end of the line and gave him a smile from afar.

Even Wei Huan hadn’t expected this outcome. He couldn’t figure out what had prompted Yun Yang to make such a decision. But just as Yun Yang said—during the sorting, he had undeniably felt the presence of fire boiling in his very bones. It was strange. In his previous life, he had never possessed any fire-related attributes or powers.

He placed a hand on his chest, over the human heart that still hadn’t cooled from the burning. Wei Huan frowned.

Why fire?