Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 22

Wei Huan recovered quickly—so quickly it defied logic.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself still in Yun Yongzhou’s arms, flying through the air.

What the h*ll…

“Hey!” A gust of wind snapped him fully awake. Wei Huan looked up and saw Yun Yongzhou’s face. “Why are you carrying me?! Put me down!”

As soon as he said that, Yun Yongzhou loosened his grip on his knees, and his legs suddenly dropped. Wei Huan panicked and instinctively wrapped his arms around Yun Yongzhou’s neck. “Holy sh*t! I didn’t mean now, bro!”

Yun Yongzhou tightened his grip again. Wei Huan’s racing heart finally calmed, and his tense body relaxed. “D*mn near scared me to death…”

He was almost resting on Yun Yongzhou’s shoulder. As he let out a breath and turned his head, their eyes met—accidentally and up close.

So close.

The gold in his pupils hadn’t faded yet, a lingering trace of sunlight still shimmered in his eyes. As Wei Huan stared, he caught a glimpse of the sun totem faintly glowing in the closer eye. Just as he leaned in for a better look, Yun Yongzhou turned away. “Have you looked enough?”

Wei Huan snapped out of it, a little embarrassed. Then he remembered the things he’d just blurted out after waking up—not exactly on-brand. He quickly tried to salvage it. “Y-yeah, enough.”

The arms he’d wrapped around Yun Yongzhou’s neck were hot—like he was touching the fire of the Golden Crow itself, not skin. Wei Huan let go, thinking he was acting too much like a girl. But once he did, it felt even weirder—like he was making a statement. So he awkwardly put them back.

Still undecided, Yun Yongzhou spoke blandly: “Is playing with my neck fun?”

Who’s playing with your neck? I was just debating whether to hold on or not!

Wei Huan felt more and more confused. Was this really the same Yun Yongzhou from before? That cool, aloof beauty had turned into… this?

“Yeah. Super fun.”

Since even Yun Yongzhou was flirting now, Wei Huan figured he might as well stop pretending too. Not only did he hang on, he even nestled into Yun Yongzhou’s shoulder. “Instructor Yun, I’m so emotional right now. I could cry! I…”

D*mn, if Yun Yongzhou still didn’t put him down after all that, he must really like humans—and like guys.

“Cry, then.”

What the—

Wei Huan choked. Still tucked into Yun Yongzhou’s neck, he paused for a moment before muttering, “I… I… ugh, now that I’m this emotional I can’t cry anymore…”

Yun Yongzhou didn’t respond. He just held him silently, then landed a moment later.

This guy used to never give anyone an easy out. Unlike Wei Huan, who would find an excuse even if there wasn’t one.

Why the sudden personality shift?

Wei Huan snuck a glance upward. This wasn’t Shanhai’s main gate—it was the South Gate.

He nearly blurted something out but stopped himself. A newly enrolled human student wouldn’t have permission to enter through the South Gate—or even know it existed.

The southern district was sealed off from the main campus and student areas. Most of it was faculty housing, with a small section for military research.

“Where are we?” Wei Huan played dumb, his inner actor taking over. He slipped out of Yun Yongzhou’s arms and backed away a few steps to maintain a safe distance.

In front of the gate stood two massive Qiongqi beasts, glaring at Wei Huan menacingly. The moment he sensed their demon aura, he froze and looked back nervously.

Qiongqi were notoriously fierce—especially fond of eating humans.

Wei Huan’s heart dropped. He bolted back behind Yun Yongzhou and grabbed his shirt from behind. “Instructor Yun, maybe you should go first…”

Yun Yongzhou said nothing. He merely glanced at the two beasts and walked toward the gate. Wei Huan trailed him nervously, sticking close, terrified that the beasts would tear into him regardless of friend or foe.

The barrier at the South Gate opened for Yun Yongzhou. He led Wei Huan inside, and the barrier closed behind them.

Something’s off, Wei Huan thought. Yun Yongzhou’s demon power is so strong—why didn’t he just use a teleportation barrier spell on Demon City Street? Why carry him all the way back like this?

Does he enjoy the hassle that much?

Just as he had that thought, Wei Huan suddenly felt his body drop and crash onto a large black bed. Just a moment ago, he had still been standing at the south gate.

D*mn it, does this b*stard have mind-reading abilities?

Wei Huan pushed himself up from the bed. “Sh*t, I nearly broke my waist. My precious waist hasn’t even been used yet…” Just as he sat up, he realized he was sitting on something round.

“Ying ying ying!” (whimpering sounds)

Holy sh*t.

Wei Huan quickly shifted his weight. Sure enough, the little furball was there on the bed. Before he could react, the little furball had already clung to Wei Huan’s head, letting out happy “ying ying” sounds like a little yellow duck enjoying a warm bath.

This thing is bound to expose his identity sooner or later. Wei Huan kept a constant watch on Yun Yongzhou’s back while trying to pry the furball off his head. But no matter how hard he tried, the furball stubbornly clung to him.

“I don’t believe this…” Just as Wei Huan was about to try again, Yun Yongzhou suddenly turned around. Wei Huan hastily lowered his arm and instinctively reached out to catch the object thrown his way.

“What’s this…” Wei Huan opened his palm to see a purplish-red fruit, about the size of a loquat. It was cold.

“Reverse Soul Fruit,” Yun Yongzhou said casually, as if this was just an ordinary fruit, not some life-saving spiritual medicine.

The little furball mimicked Yun Yongzhou’s tone, earnestly letting out a “ying ying ying.”

Wei Huan was startled. He hadn’t expected Yun Yongzhou to still keep the reverse soul fruit. Although he knew that the fruit was incorruptible, still—it had been ten years. Why had he kept it?

Without saying another word, Yun Yongzhou took off his instructor’s jacket, revealing a black tank top underneath. Paired with those slightly loose instructor pants, his narrow waist was even more striking.

He looked up, his gaze meeting Wei Huan’s puzzled eyes. Even though Wei Huan hadn’t asked anything, Yun Yongzhou still answered on his own.

“I don’t want to cage a dead man.”

After all this time begging for the reverse soul fruit, who would’ve thought he’d eventually get it from the previous top-ranked freshman.

Wei Huan didn’t know what to say. Too many emotions tangled inside him. He knew he should eat the fruit now—only by surviving would other possibilities remain—but he wasn’t sure if doing so would count as a kind of deception.

In Yun Yongzhou’s eyes, he probably just wanted his newly-caged human slave to stay alive and work for him. But that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t human.

He even wondered, if Yun Yongzhou knew he was the Nine Phoenix, would he regret it?

After all, Nine Phoenix’s name was already tainted.

If Yun Yongzhou realized he’d given such a precious item to the so-called traitor of Shanhai, what would he think?

“Why do you want to cage me?”

Wei Huan slightly tilted his face up, his delicate human features giving him a trace of vulnerability as he asked, “So even a great monster from the Golden Crow family can casually cage a human?”

The Golden Crow family was different from others. Most of them were involved in politics, with deep roots and extremely strict internal management—especially Yun Yongzhou’s father, the head of his political faction, whose discipline bordered on cruel.

“I don’t need a reason to do anything.”

After saying this, Yun Yongzhou walked straight toward him, gazing down at Wei Huan’s face from above, his sharp eyes seemingly trying to pierce through his false human skin.

His pupils once again turned golden, and a fleeting, unreadable emotion crossed his cold face. Wei Huan couldn’t describe it—it was too complex, beyond his comprehension.

Suddenly, the long-lost light restraints appeared again, binding Wei Huan and dragging him forcefully in front of Yun Yongzhou.

Here we go again.

“No reason? As a caged thing, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do.” Wei Huan struggled but couldn’t break free, so he could only tilt his head up to look at that cold face, a faint smile curling on his lips. “You’re not going to tell me?”

It seemed he hit the mark. Yun Yongzhou’s eyes flickered, and he looked away.

“Eat the fruit. Then get out of Shanhai.”

He paused, then added, “Go back to your human world in the mortal continent. Find a place to hide—the farther, the better.”

Wei Huan froze. What did that mean?

What kind of monster would go to such lengths to cage someone, only to later let them go—and even give them such an important reverse soul fruit? Yun Yongzhou must be out of his mind.

“I’m not leaving.” Wei Huan rejected it flatly. He still hadn’t figured out who framed him. How could he just leave Shanhai so easily?

Could it have been Yun Yongzhou?

The terrifying thought suddenly surfaced but was quickly dismissed.

If Yun Yongzhou had recognized him and was afraid of revenge, why give him the reverse soul fruit? He could have just let him die. Doing this was basically shooting himself in the foot.

No, definitely not.

Besides, his proud personality would never stoop to framing others.

“I’m not leaving.” Wei Huan repeated firmly. “I worked so hard to get in—how can I leave just like that?”

“Not leaving?” Yun Yongzhou’s gaze returned to Wei Huan’s face. He leaned down, long fingers pinching Wei Huan’s chin as he slowly moved closer.

That fragile human heart began to pound wildly again, as if this long-separated nemesis was the only trigger capable of bringing it back to life—nothing else worked, only this man was proof that he was alive.

No reason. He didn’t know why.

Just when Yun Yongzhou’s seemingly heartless lips were about to reach his own, they bypassed and brushed against his ear instead.

“Do you want to stay by my side?”

Stay by your side.

For a moment, Wei Huan’s memory seemed to fracture. In his mind, someone was repeating that sentence, but it wasn’t Yun Yongzhou’s voice. Strangely, it sounded more like his own.

[I’ll stay by your side from now on. If you’re an instructor, I’ll be one too. If you go to the battlefield, I’ll go too. I’ll annoy you to death—how about that?]

His awareness snapped back to the present. His startled eyes locked onto Yun Yongzhou’s face.

Yun Yongzhou said nothing, released his hand, and the light restraints vanished with him.

“Hey, don’t go…” Wei Huan called out just before Yun Yongzhou turned away, but he instantly regretted it, wishing he could bite off his own tongue. How could he instinctively say something like that? He must be crazy.

Forget it. Since it’s already come to this, why not just act clingy and obsessed? Yun Yongzhou surely wouldn’t like that type of person. Even if he’s temporarily interested in this face, as long as Wei Huan went all out to disgust and annoy him, Yun Yongzhou would eventually get tired of him.

Then he’d regain his freedom. Perfect.

With his plan in place, Wei Huan immediately plastered on a flattering smile and grabbed Yun Yongzhou’s arm. “I just want to stay by your side. I really, really admire you. I came to Shanhai just for you!”

Oddly enough, Yun Yongzhou didn’t shake him off. His brow lifted slightly. “But I heard your idol is Nine Phoenix.”

Wei Huan froze, then quickly laughed. “No way, how could I like a traitor…”

As soon as he said it, he felt Yun Yongzhou’s gaze fixating on him, sending chills down his spine. Wei Huan forced himself to meet his eyes, keeping his expression relaxed.

Unconsciously, his grip tightened. That’s when he remembered the reverse soul fruit and, pretending to fear Yun Yongzhou might change his mind, quickly ate it. “Gone now. Actually, it’s pretty tasty. When does it take effect? Is my poison already cured?”

Yun Yongzhou didn’t respond, simply turned and left the room. Only then did Wei Huan finally breathe a sigh of relief. Deep down, he was still afraid Yun Yongzhou would discover his true identity, even though he couldn’t explain why.

A moment later, Yun Yongzhou returned, carrying a medical kit.

“Come to the bedside.”

Wei Huan meekly responded and obediently sat at the bedside. The little furball, who had been holding its breath the entire time, mimicked him with a soft “ying” sound.

Yun Yongzhou pulled over a chair and sat in front of him, opening the medical kit.

Wei Huan was confused. Monsters had special constitutions, and high-level monsters healed especially fast. Even if they needed medical treatment, it was nothing like human medicine. Where did Yun Yongzhou even get these human medical supplies? And why was he using them?

Without saying a word, Yun Yongzhou pulled out a roll of medical tape, carefully peeling off a strip.

This was the first time since his rebirth that Wei Huan was alone with someone familiar.

Wei Huan quietly watched Yun Yongzhou, his eyelashes dusted with twilight, casting long, trembling shadows beneath his eyes—like the shifting tree shadows on a summer wall.

He remembered that during Yun Yongzhou’s fiercest battles, the skin under his eyes would be marked with blood-red demonic patterns. Though he had only seen it once.

Yun Yongzhou fished out a pair of scissors, cut off a small piece of tape, and prepared to stick it to Wei Huan’s face.

Wei Huan finally snapped out of his trance and grabbed his wrist. “Hey, wait.”

Yun Yongzhou frowned, his gaze turning cold again.

“It’s just…” Wei Huan awkwardly explained, “I think the proper steps should be… disinfect the wound first, then apply medicine, and finally use this tape—” He shook Yun Yongzhou’s wrist, gesturing to the small piece of tape. “This one, to secure the gauze…”

After awkwardly finishing his explanation, Wei Huan let go of his wrist and reached for the alcohol and cotton swabs himself. “Maybe I should do it myself…”

“Put it down.”

In an instant, a barrage of light cones suddenly appeared out of nowhere, aiming directly at Wei Huan’s head. He was so startled he dropped the cotton swab. “Holy sh*t!”

“Don’t move,” Yun Yongzhou said calmly. “I know how to do it.”

Can’t you just speak properly, my dear brother? You nearly scared me to death again.

Wei Huan took several deep breaths before barely managing to force a smile at the ancestor sitting in front of him. “Okay, okay, I won’t move. Can you please put your precious babies away, brother?”

Yun Yongzhou glanced at him, the light cones retreated slightly, now surrounding the two of them but not disappearing.

Wei Huan had no idea what Yun Yongzhou was thinking. Was he still suspicious of him? Then why bother caging a stranger in the first place? Was his brain broken?

Could it be this spoiled young master, raised in luxury, had some strange hobby of taking care of others? Wei Huan swallowed hard, recalling all the flowers and plants he had killed while raising them as a child.

No, I’m a living, breathing person with a beautiful face. If this young master ends up raising me to death, who can I even complain to?

“Don’t move.” Yun Yongzhou’s soft voice pulled him back. Only then did Wei Huan realize they were already this close.

Can’t you just speak like a normal person, bro? You scared me half to death.

Wei Huan took several deep breaths before he managed to squeeze out a strained smile for his personal executioner. “Okay, okay, I won’t move. Could you, uh, maybe call off your babies, bro?”

Yun Yongzhou glanced at him, and the light cones withdrew slightly, forming a perimeter around the two of them—but didn’t vanish. Wei Huan had no idea what Yun Yongzhou was thinking. If he didn’t trust him, why bring a stranger home? Was he insane?

Could it be that this pampered young master had some weird caretaker kink? Wei Huan’s throat bobbed as he remembered all the plants he’d killed as a kid.

No, seriously—he was a living, breathing person with blood, flesh, and a very nice face. If this little master ended up killing him too, who was he supposed to complain to?

“Don’t move,” Yun Yongzhou said softly. Only then did Wei Huan realize how close they were. Yun Yongzhou’s fingers were just brushing his cheek, the only connection between them that cotton swab soaked in cold alcohol.

Close proximity was a powerful illusion. Wei Huan felt as though the fire in Yun Yongzhou’s blood had traveled into the swab, then into him.

That’s why his face was heating up.

Yes. That had to be it.

Wei Huan averted his eyes. The sting of the wound being cleaned wasn’t bad—lighter than expected. He forced himself to stay calm as Yun Yongzhou methodically applied the medicine.

It took a while, though he wasn’t sure why he felt so tense.

Of course, Wei Huan was always good at giving himself excuses. This time, he blamed it on the light cones making him feel on edge.

Once all the wounds from the scale slashes on his face were treated and bandaged, Wei Huan still found it surreal. He had ever been treated like this—not even little Nine Phoenix. Yun Yongzhou had always been aloof and arrogant, never caring for anyone.

“Thanks.” His throat bobbed awkwardly. The atmosphere was too quiet. Wei Huan tried to change the subject. “That reverse soul fruit really works. I feel totally fine now.” He looked down at his fingers. “Even the bruising is gone. Just not sure about side effects…”

Yun Yongzhou still didn’t respond, quietly packing up the medical kit.

“Can I go back to my dorm now?” Wei Huan asked cautiously. With his demon power completely gone, he was still a little afraid of Yun Yongzhou.

The little furball let out a pitiful whimper, hopping from Wei Huan’s head to his shoulder, bouncing nonstop like it was trying to stop him. “Ying ying ying, ying ying ying, ying ying ying ying…”

Yun Yongzhou lifted his gaze with little reaction. Wei Huan knew him well—no reaction was already the best kind of reaction. So he added another line.

“My friend’s still waiting for me to eat dinner. I should get going. Instructor Yun, I’ll come again next time…”

But unexpectedly, Yun Yongzhou suddenly frowned, stared at him silently for a few seconds, and then stood up. “No.”

“What? If I’m not going back to the dorm, where am I supposed to go, Instructor Yun? You’re not actually planning to make me sleep in that pool downstairs, are you? I can’t swim!”

Wei Huan put on a pitiful expression, craning his neck to shout at Yun Yongzhou’s retreating figure. “Instructor Yun! If you don’t let me leave, I’m just gonna crash in your bedroom!” With that, he bounced on the bed and smacked the mattress with both hands. “I’m staying right here! I’m not leaving, even if I die! Instructor Yun, I—”

Before he could finish, a bundle of clothes came flying at his face. Pulling them off, he saw it was a set of clean clothes, including a black shirt that looked really familiar.

“This is…”

“You said it yourself—you’re not leaving, even if you die,” Yun Yongzhou said, arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe. “The bedroom’s yours. I’ll sleep in the living room.”

“Hey—” Wei Huan had just opened his mouth when Yun Yongzhou turned and slammed the door shut, locking it with a click.

What kind of weirdo temper does this young master have?

Wei Huan tapped the ring on his middle finger, and his combat gear transformed into a regular summer uniform within seconds. He stared at the black shirt Yun had given him, trying and failing to remember where he’d seen it before.

Forget it. He felt like he was covered in dust from the mission—he couldn’t even stand himself. So he grabbed the clean clothes and went to take a shower.

When he opened the bathroom door afterward, he smelled something burning. His heart jumped. “Sh*t, is something on fire?” He banged on the bedroom door, and it took a while before the electronic lock finally clicked open.

“What are you doing—wait, no…” Wei Huan realized his tone was too aggressive, not the kind of tone you use with a teacher. Smoke was wafting through the living room. Wei Huan followed it, coughing.

“Instructor Yun, what are you doing? What’s with all the smoke… cough cough cough…”

The kitchen was full of smoke, stinging his eyes. Wei Huan waved his hand around and choked on the fumes. “What is this, a bonfire party?”

Yun Yongzhou stood silently off to the side, turning to look at him without a word. Wei Huan squinted—was that a hint of regret in his eyes?

Trying to stifle a laugh, he turned off the burner and opened the kitchen window for ventilation.
“Were you trying to cook?”

Yun Yongzhou glanced at him, then at the scorched pot, still silent.

Wei Huan was now absolutely convinced this little young master had suffered major trauma during the years he was dead. He used to just lack social skills—now it looked like his brain was fried too.

“I’ll do it.” Wei Huan rolled up the sleeves of the black shirt, picked up the charred pot, dumped the unidentifiable contents, set it in the sink, and reached up to the top shelf for a new pot.

After setting everything up, he scanned the counter—everything was human food from the mortal realm: tomatoes, greens… All organic ingredients, which were now rare luxuries for humans.

Surprised, he turned back to look at Yun Yongzhou. Yun Yongzhou looked at him too—up and down.

What’s he looking at? Wei Huan looked down at himself.

“Why aren’t you wearing long pants?”

That soul-crushing question left Wei Huan blank. Without thinking, he answered:

“You didn’t give me any.”

A strange silence fell between them. Then Yun Yongzhou turned and left the kitchen.

So weird. Wei Huan pouted, grabbed an apron from the wall, and checked his boxer shorts again.

Not that revealing, right? We’re both guys—what’s the big deal?

Muttering internally, he washed the vegetables. While cutting the tomatoes, he kept replaying Yun Yongzhou’s attitude in his mind—and ended up slicing his finger. Blood welled up fast. He rinsed it under water and, strangely, felt no pain.

That reverse soul fruit is insane.

Wei Huan stared at the cut. It was deep, but he felt absolutely nothing. Pressing the wound to stop the bleeding, he stepped out to look for something to cover it.

And right there on the dining table was a bandage.

He didn’t think much of it, just went over and stuck it on. When he turned around, he saw Yun Yongzhou sitting on the sofa in the living room, left hand open, as if examining something.

Yun Yongzhou really was the strangest person he’d ever met. Wei Huan shook his head and returned to the kitchen.

There weren’t many ingredients, so he just whipped something up. Soon, he carried out two bowls of noodles. “Instructor Yun, I hope this is okay for now. I’ll make something better next time.”

While offering this flattery, he scanned the room and saw Yun Yongzhou, freshly showered and dressed in a clean white T-shirt, sitting at the dining table.

Maybe it was the clothes, but he looked exactly like that quiet boy from seven years ago. His slightly damp bangs hung over his forehead, partially covering the flame mark on the left side.

Wei Huan untied his apron and hung it on the back of his chair. He sat down across from Yun—but the moment he touched the chair, he stood up again. “Can I sit here?” he asked cautiously.

Yun Yongzhou looked at him and gave a soft “Mm.”

Only then did Wei Huan relax. With someone as unpredictable as Yun Yongzhou, you had to stay alert at all times.

In Fanzhou, constant war had crippled agriculture, and resources were depleted. Food was extremely scarce. Humans couldn’t eat demon food, so most of their staples were synthesized inorganic products.

Back in the dark zones, Wei Huan had been eating nothing but artificial kelp. Demons generally disdained human food, and Yun Yongzhou, born into a prestigious demon clan, almost never touched the stuff.

So why the sudden change of taste? Since when did he start liking human food?

Wei Huan quickly finished his portion—after all, missions drained a lot of energy. He wiped his mouth and looked at Yun Yongzhou expectantly.

“Did it taste good, Instructor Yun?”

Yun Yongzhou took a slow, unhurried bite. His tone was flat, but his words were clear: “It tastes good.”

So easy to please.

Strangely enough, a scene like this—a quiet, warm meal together—should’ve felt foreign to them, but for once, Wei Huan didn’t feel awkward. After they finished eating, Yun Yongzhou told him to head back to the bedroom, while he himself went to lie on the sofa in the living room.

Wei Huan glanced outside. A guy over 1.8 meters tall curled up on that small couch looked ridiculous. He spoke up: “Instructor Yun, why don’t you just come in and sleep? Do you have another blanket? I can make a bed on the floor.”

Yun Yongzhou came into the bedroom and rummaged through the closet, finding only a thin quilt. Wei Huan, worried he’d feel awkward, immediately grabbed the blanket and ran outside.

“Stop.”

He halted. Wei Huan turned around with a grin. “I just thought the sofa outside seemed really comfy.”

Yun Yongzhou’s brow lifted slightly. “Come back.”

His voice always had that non-negotiable firmness. Wei Huan had no choice—he was at his mercy right now, and defying him wasn’t an option.

This guy was so volatile, what if he suddenly started throwing light cones like darts and turned him into a human sieve? So not worth it.

“I wasn’t trying to run,” Wei Huan said with a blink. “I was just… taking a post-dinner stroll!” He did a few lunges while hugging the quilt, then awkwardly made his way back to the bed, knelt on the floor, and spread the blanket out. “Good night, Instructor Yun! Sweet dreams!”

Yun Yongzhou didn’t respond. Wei Huan took that as consent, turned his back to the bed, and only relaxed once he heard the lights turn off and Yun Yongzhou get into bed.

The shirt he was wearing carried Yun Yongzhou’s scent. Wei Huan could tell—it was faint, cold, and familiar. He remembered it from their school days.

The early summer night was a little chilly. Half-asleep, a breeze swept in, and he tucked his chin in, brushing against a bit of embroidery inside the collar.

Suddenly, he remembered whose shirt this was—but his consciousness sank into the depths of a dream before the memory could fully surface.

In the dream, he returned to his teenage years. The summer wind puffed up his black shirt. Someone was calling his name. Wei Huan turned and saw Yang Sheng in a white shirt and jeans, holding two skewers of candied fruit. The fruit didn’t look quite like any ordinary fruit—more like wild grapes.

“What’s this?” Wei Huan took one and sniffed it. Yang Sheng pointed to a bustling stall along Shanhai’s main street.

“Some girl from Jiahui Academy is selling them. She said they’re made from nawang grass fruit.”

That day was the once-in-a-decade Shanhai Festival, originally created to commemorate the founding of Shanhai University. Over time, it had evolved into a grand campus carnival held every ten years on the seventh day of the seventh month, lasting three full days.

Each department showcased something special. Jiahui Academy’s students especially loved setting up stalls with exotic herbs and rare plants.

“How much is this skewer?”

“Thirty demon coins.”

Wei Huan rolled his eyes and shoved it back at Yang Sheng. “Are you dumb? She said it’s nawang grass and you believed her? That stuff’s super expensive! It’s supposed to boost intelligence! You think they’d just be selling it out in the open? This is obviously just wild grapes.”

He then snatched Yang Sheng’s skewer and took a bite. “I’m telling you, those girls love conning gullible demons like you.”

“Then don’t eat it.” Yang Sheng tried to take it back, but Wei Huan pulled it away. “Nope! I’m eating it! And hey, it actually tastes pretty good.”

Just then, a boy in a pale green long robe strolled over holding a folding fan, looking like he’d stepped out of a different era. Wei Huan recognized him and waved dramatically.

“Buyu!”

Su Buyu smiled gently. “Why are you two dressed like Black and White Impermanence today?”

Wei Huan looked down, then glanced at Yang Sheng and burst out laughing. “You’re right!” Then he raised his eyebrows at Su Buyu. “Check out this new shirt—pretty nice, huh? Look, it even has my initials embroidered on the inside. That’s why I bought it.”

Yang Sheng circled Su Buyu, frowning. “What are you wearing?”

Su Buyu looked a bit surprised. “Wait, seriously? You guys don’t know? I got roped into a lottery draw the second I walked in. Didn’t you get one too?” He pulled out a blue cloth strip and showed them.

The front was embroidered with silver-white swirling wind lines—Fuyao style. Inside, the tag read: “Ancient costume cosplay.”

“It’s a new event this year. All student council members and the top 100 ranked students are required to participate. Everyone else can choose to join, but you have to draw a lot in front of Mingxiang Hall to find out your role.”

Wei Huan curled his lip. “Sounds like a pain. I’m not going. You guys go. I have plans tonight—I’m heading to see a water ballet by this gorgeous mermaid from Shangshan Academy.”

Yang Sheng grabbed him before he could run. “You’re ranked No. 2 on the Top 100—you have to go.”

“Wait,” Wei Huan bristled the moment he heard “No. 2.” “Can you please stop obsessing over rankings? Anyway, the top-ranked guy definitely won’t go, so I should follow his lead. It’s called ‘learning from the virtuous,’ ever heard of that? Ancient literature, man! I was class rep for that back in elementary school—”

“But the top-ranked guy did go,” Su Buyu smiled. “He’s at Mingxiang Hall right now.”

“What?! Yun Yongzhou’s lost his mind!”

Wei Huan argued to the bitter end, but in the end, the two best friends exchanged a look. Yang Sheng spread his wings, Su Buyu conjured a cloud beneath his feet, and each grabbed one of Wei Huan’s arms—lifting him bodily off the ground and hauling him toward Mingxiang Hall.

“Hey! You two, just wait!”

In front of the Mingxiang Building, the crowd was thick. When the students saw two monsters from Fuyou Academy flying in the sky, they quickly made way. Yang Sheng and Su Buyu let go at the same time and dropped Wei Huan.

“D*mn, my butt! You might as well have just killed me!”

Yang Sheng landed with a grin, folding his wings. “Never heard of a Fuyou student dying from a fall.”

“Wei Huan could start a new trend,” Su Buyu chimed in immediately.

“Tch.” Wei Huan patted the dust off his butt and stood up, just about to run in the opposite direction—only to bump into someone. “What the h*ll, who’s so blind they ran into this handsome guy?”

He looked up—and oh cr*p, it was Yun Yongzhou.

Wei Huan, who’d been snarling a second ago, instantly beamed, giving his right cheek a light pat. “It’s me~”

Yang Sheng was speechless to the extreme. He turned to Su Buyu. “Ever seen someone so shameless?”

He was hoping for another round of snark, but Su Buyu just blinked in a daze, turning slowly to look at him. “What did you say?”

Yun Yongzhou gave Wei Huan a cold look, said nothing, and walked right past him. Wei Huan swaggered after him like they were close buddies, chatting non-stop.

“They just said you’d already arrived at Mingxiang Building, turns out you just got here. I thought you beat me to it.”

“As soon as I heard you were coming, I rushed over. That’s what I call dedication~”

“Hey, I just realized your outfit looks a lot like mine! I’m wearing a black shirt too. We’ve got some real chemistry!”

“Oh right, Yun Yongzhou, do you know what events there are? Did you see Buyu? His costume looks great—I want one too. What do you hope to draw?”

Wei Huan was practically sticking to him. Yun Yongzhou shot him a cool glance and walked to the lottery table. “Anything but the same one as you.”

Tch.

This guy, seriously…

The “lottery table” was actually the base of the San Zhu tree. Despite the name, it was just one large tree—shaped like an ordinary cypress from the mortal world, but its leaves were pearl-like and sparkled from afar, strikingly beautiful.

Student council members had tied fabric lots to the tree branches, categorized by school into four colors: red, blue, green, and white, to ensure balance.

Wei Huan strolled around the tree with his hands behind his back, picking and choosing, pestering a female student on duty. “What events do you have? Hey, are you a begonia demon?”

The girl was stunned, her cheeks turning pink. “H-How did you guess?”

Wei Huan didn’t answer directly. Instead, he said, “You look great in the qipao uniform from Jiahui Academy.” Then added, “You’ve got floral markings on your face. I can’t tell exactly what kind of flower, but you don’t have any fragrance, so it must be begonia. Begonias don’t have a scent.” He grinned, his sharp canine tooth adding a mischievous charm. “I was right, wasn’t I? But hey, you didn’t answer my first question.”

“O-Oh, right.” The little begonia girl pressed the back of her hand to her hot face. She dared not look directly at Wei Huan and turned slightly to show him a list of already-drawn lots. “There’s a historical cosplay performance, a maid café, haunted house, things like that.”

Yang Sheng, unlike Wei Huan, didn’t always flirt with girls. He honestly drew a lot from the tree. “What a coincidence, I got the haunted house.”

Su Buyu peeked at it. “Seriously? You poor thing, you’ll be in there scaring girls.”

“Do monsters even fear ghosts?” Wei Huan interjected. “I’ve seen monsters uglier than ghosts. They’ve got no right to be scared.”

Yang Sheng sighed and stuffed his fabric lot into his jeans pocket. “Like you’re any prettier. Hurry up and draw.”

“Okay, okay.” Wei Huan turned his head, instinctively scanning for Yun Yongzhou. He saw the man hadn’t even lifted a hand—his light cord had slipped silently from his sleeve and looped around a red fabric lot.

He looked dazzling under the shimmering tree.

“You look like you’re drawing for a marriage fortune or something.”

Yun Yongzhou shot him a cold glance. The light cord stopped moving. Wei Huan immediately clapped his hands over his mouth. The cord gave a slight jerk and drew down the red lot.

Wei Huan uncovered his mouth and resumed chattering, “That’s definitely a good lot, a top-tier one, super lucky.” The cord happened to knock down a blue lot as well. Wei Huan flicked his wrist, and a ribbon of wind formed, wrapping around the falling lot before it hit the ground. With a quick motion, he grabbed it. “The one you drew for me must be lucky too.”

Yun Yongzhou frowned and finally spoke. “Who said I drew it for you?”

“You did.” Wei Huan looked extremely smug. He cheerfully opened the blue lot in his hand, but the grin froze instantly when he read the words.

“A… café? Qipao uniform?”

Yang Sheng burst into rare laughter. “Hahahaha! Weren’t you just complimenting someone else’s qipao?”

“Are we sure Wei Huan didn’t inherit some weird fate-related power?”

…

A moment later, Wei Huan raised his hand with mock dignity and a fake smile. “I’d like to re-draw.”

Acting more like a disciplinary prefect than the real thing, Yang Sheng grabbed him on the spot. “Nope. Rules say you can only draw once.”

Wei Huan pouted miserably, hiding the lot in his hand—then caught sight of Yun Yongzhou nearby, stuffing his red lot into his pocket with a grim expression.

Wei Huan perked up immediately. He shoved Yang Sheng aside and dashed up to Yun Yongzhou. “Hey hey hey, what did you get?”

Yun Yongzhou frowned. “Go away.”

“Nope.” Wei Huan shamelessly grabbed his shoulder. “Come on, Brother Yun, Brother Yong, Brother Zhou, lemme see. I just wanna see.”

“Go. Away.” Yun Yongzhou repeated coldly.

They scuffled for a bit until Yun Yongzhou stuffed his lot into his jeans and tightly grabbed Wei Huan’s wandering hand. The guy still had that roguish grin on his face. “Okay okay, I won’t look. I won’t. Just let me go, alright?”

Yun Yongzhou frowned and said nothing. After quite a while, he finally relented. But just as he was about to let go, something suddenly felt off.

Looking down, he saw a soft vine glowing blue sneaking into his pocket.

“You—!”

The soft vine, conjured by Wei Huan with wind magic, had already fished out the red lot and was waving it in the air, only to be snatched by a beaming Wei Huan.

“Let me see.” Wei Huan flapped his wings and soared into the sky. The moment he opened the fabric lot, he laughed so hard he couldn’t straighten up.

“What did I say? Crossdressing! Hahahahahaha…!”

Yang Sheng glanced at Su Buyu beside him, deadpan. “Isn’t Wei Huan…?”

“He is.”

“Then what’s he so happy about?”