Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 7

History has a funny way of repeating itself.

Who would’ve thought—ten years later, Wei Huan would meet Yun Yongzhou again in exactly the same scenario. Nothing changed. Not a single detail. Except this time, Yun Yongzhou was wearing the uniform of a Shanhai instructor, and d*mn, Wei Huan couldn’t take his eyes off him.

Forget everything else—just that uniform alone had been enough to make Wei Huan dream of becoming an instructor at Shanhai after graduation. Each of the four academies had distinct uniforms in color and cut.

The teachers had their own attire too. Academic teachers wore white outfits embroidered with silver threads, while combat instructors wore something totally different—matte-black tactical uniforms adorned with academy insignias, rank badges, and shoulder patches. The design leaned military, and on the right person, it looked devastatingly good.

Wei Huan had dreamed of that outfit for years but had never gotten the chance to wear it himself. And now? It was on his nemesis. But, d*mn it, it looked really good on him.

Short dark hair, clean and sharp. Belt snug at the waist. Broad shoulders tapering to a slim waist in that perfect V-shape. Long legs that made it impossible to look away. His body looked even better than seven years ago—muscles full and defined. Wei Huan sighed internally. No wonder people had a thing for uniforms—this was weaponized attractiveness.

Wei Huan hadn’t taken his eyes off him the whole time. In these seven years, Yun Yongzhou’s appearance hadn’t changed much. Still that same handsome face that had stunned him at first sight.

Especially those amber eyes—glistening like gemstones in the sunlight. Shame that back then, his moody, gloomy personality wasted the good looks heaven had blessed him with. Now, after so many years, Wei Huan could feel that the murderous edge around him had dulled somewhat. He’d grown quieter, more restrained.

He was so absorbed in staring that his arm had gone numb from being raised so long. As the flames crept closer, Wei Huan decided it was time to surrender with some charm.

“Hey, so… I wasn’t the one who started this. This guy—”

He put on an innocent, clueless look. “—This very handsome fellow, by the way, what’s your name? Ah, doesn’t matter. Point is, he struck first!”

Yun Yongzhou’s cold, detached gaze fixed on him. That stare—it had been years since someone looked at him like that. It was oddly nostalgic.

He was scared of those eyes. Always had been. Yun Yongzhou had always been his nemesis.

Wei Huan was afraid Yun Yongzhou might, like before, recognize the real him at first glance. But he also knew: Xihe Eyes only worked on demons. And now, his demon heart and soul were long gone. He didn’t have a shred of demon energy left.

There was no way Yun Yongzhou could recognize him.

“How did you get in?”

His voice was cold and low—only further confirming Wei Huan’s guess.

A blade of light formed in Yun Yongzhou’s hand, inching toward Wei Huan’s neck. Its tip hovered, barely a hair away from piercing skin. Slowly, it glided up toward his Adam’s apple.

Dangerous. Intimate. Terrifying.

Under that immense pressure, Wei Huan tried to stay calm. “I followed a Chongming bird in. He went inside just before me—maybe you even ran into him? I was gonna follow him in, and bam, this tiger demon guy shows up trying to eat me alive!”

He pulled a pitiful face, trying to wring some sympathy out of Yun Yongzhou. “I was wrong, I really get it now. You’re the bigger person, surely you can let this little thing slide?”

Yun Yongzhou didn’t respond. He flew closer, waved his hand—and the flames between them vanished.

Then, a light-tether appeared in his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the glowing tether coiled around Wei Huan’s waist. The next second, he yanked—and Wei Huan was pulled right up to him, practically chest to chest.

Before Wei Huan could react, Yun Yongzhou gripped his chin. His wings slowly faded behind him, and as his feet touched the ground, Wei Huan noticed—this human body of his now was definitely shorter than his original one.

Maybe Yun Yongzhou had just gotten taller? Back then he was only a few centimeters taller. Now he was nearly a whole head above. It was awkward. Wei Huan had to tilt his face up to even look at him.

While Wei Huan was mentally fixated on irrelevant height problems, Yun Yongzhou was staring intently at his face. After a long pause, he finally let go.

“Human.”

What the h*ll? You’re just realizing that now? No way. You’re a top-tier demon—can’t you smell how sweet and deliciously human I am? Wei Huan couldn’t help but roast him mentally.

But Yun Yongzhou’s tone didn’t sound like a judgment. It sounded more like… he was talking to himself.

Wei Huan felt the light-tether around his waist loosen. He watched as Yun Yongzhou turned away with a voice devoid of emotion. “Leave this place. Go back to your human lands.”

“Wait—!” Wei Huan reached out to grab his arm, but Yun Yongzhou was already walking away. Desperate, he grabbed the light-tether. “Don’t go!”

He’d finally run into someone he knew, and it was Yun Yongzhou—a top-tier monster. No way he was letting him leave just like that.

Yun Yongzhou didn’t turn around. He tugged the tether instead. To his surprise, the “frail human” hanging on actually had some strength and yanked back hard enough to keep hold of the line.

He turned with a cold “Let go.”

“Nope,” Wei Huan clung tightly to it. “Not unless you help me—”

Before he could finish, Yun Yongzhou yanked the tether again. This time, Wei Huan was caught off guard and flung right into his chest. The tether vanished, and Wei Huan ended up crashing full-on into Yun Yongzhou’s arms.

Utterly embarrassing.

Wei Huan didn’t even dare lift his head. His arms hung around Yun Yongzhou’s waist, like his soul had just left his body.

“Let go.”

That voice now carried a tinge of irritation. Wei Huan’s shoulders twitched. He immediately let go and babbled, “I didn’t mean to! Y-you saw it too—it was your rope that made the move first! And it’s still your rope, so technically, it was you who pulled me into your arms…”

His voice grew quieter as he spoke, glancing at Yun Yongzhou to gauge his reaction. “You were the one who struck first…”

“This isn’t a place you should be,” Yun Yongzhou said, twisting his wrist inward. The light cord instantly vanished into his sleeve. His cold gaze swept over the onlooking demon clan examinees nearby. “Anyone who causes another fight will be immediately disqualified from the exam.”

He really had changed—talking much more than before. Wei Huan calculated quickly in his mind: now he was just in the body of an ordinary human. Whether he could even enter Shanhai was still a question. But right in front of him was a super powerful demon. Surely this guy could get him inside. Maybe not just inside—if Yun Yongzhou was in a generous mood, maybe he’d even return the Reverse Soul Fruit from back then.

Thinking this far, Wei Huan started to wonder: should he tell Yun Yongzhou who he really was?

If he did, maybe Yun Yongzhou would help him for the sake of their old classmate connection. No—just classmates. They were never friends. They were more like mortal enemies. But life really was unpredictable. If Wei Huan had known he’d end up like this, he wouldn’t have tormented this cold, unreachable “high mountain flower” so mercilessly back then.

His mind spun quickly, but before he could figure out what to do, he saw Yun Yongzhou’s wings spread again. He turned and flew toward the impossibly tall red gate.

Wei Huan immediately sprinted after him, reaching out to grab him.
“Hey, Yun—uh, big guy! Handsome! Immortal bro! Don’t go—”

Yun Yongzhou disappeared through the gate.

Wei Huan froze. But it wasn’t because he failed to catch up—it was because of his own hand.

His very human hand had actually passed through the gate of Shanhai!

“What the h*ll? How is this possible…” Wei Huan stared in shock and withdrew his hand—completely unharmed. He stretched it out again. It wasn’t an illusion—his hand really could pass through the red gate to the other side of the barrier.

It wasn’t just him who was stunned. All the demons gathered at the Shanhai gate were in disbelief.

“Look at that human!”

“How can this be? The Shanhai gate should block humans!”

“But come to think of it… Shanhai never actually said they only accept demon students. There have been half-demons before…”

Wei Huan took a deep breath and stepped through the gate he had entered countless times before—but never once had he felt this thrilled. His blood boiled with excitement.

Looking up, Shanhai’s grand sight appeared before him once more, unchanged from the last time he left on a mission.

Red lanterns and sky lanterns floated in the night sky, swaying gently and illuminating the bright Shanhai main road. The luminescent dongming grass on either side glowed faintly white. The night breeze rustled the flowers of the shadow trees, sparkling like stars.

In the center stood the imposing main building, with the black-and-gold Shanhai Academy flag. On either side hung four academy banners: red, blue, white, and green—representing Yansui Academy, Fuyao Academy, Shangshan Academy, and Jiahui Academy.

Wei Huan’s gaze settled on the blue-and-white Fuyao Academy flag, his emotions mixed.

A few wind-type demons flew by, kicking up a sharp gust as they soared upward, knocking aside the floating lanterns. Before the lanterns could return to place, they were scattered again by a flock of descending white birds. As they landed, the birds transformed into three or five silver-haired, beautiful girls in navy uniforms.

“Wei Heng? Wei Heng!”

Wei Huan didn’t react at first. It wasn’t until a hand rested on his right shoulder that his over-alert reflexes kicked in. He immediately grabbed the wrist with his left hand, ready to flip the person, but when he turned his head, he saw—it was the little Chongming from earlier.

“I’ve been calling you for a while,” Jing Yun said, a bit embarrassed, adjusting his glasses. “You never looked back.”

Wei Huan quickly let go, changing the subject. “Wait, why are you still here?”

“I… I was waiting for you.” Jing Yun pointed to a small bench by the gate. “I was sitting there, watching the entrance, waiting so I could meet you when you came in.”

“How’d you know I could get in?” Wei Huan chuckled. This little Chongming was so naive. “I’m human, you know. Have you ever heard of a human getting into Shanhai?”

“I’ve also never heard of humans entering Kunlun Void, but you did.” Jing Yun spoke seriously. “Even if you’re human, your experience and skills far exceed mine as a demon. My mother always told me—never look down on someone because of their race.”

It was sincere. Clearly, this kid came from a well-taught family. There weren’t many demons these days who didn’t look down on humans. Wei Huan’s impression of him improved considerably. He threw an arm around Jing Yun’s shoulder, and the two walked toward the main building together.

“You make a good point. But what if I couldn’t get in?”

“I would have waited until the gates fully closed. If you didn’t make it, I would have found time to go look for you in the Dark Zone.” Jing Yun pushed up his glasses. “I owe you my thanks.”

“For what? With your talent and bloodline, it would be strange if you didn’t get in.”

At first, Wei Huan was too busy chatting to notice, but after a few steps, he realized something was off. He glanced at the demons passing by—both examinees and uniformed students were all, intentionally or not, looking at them. All the gazes were gathering.

Jing Yun, feeling the pressure, whispered, “Why does it seem like everyone’s staring at us…”

It wasn’t “us.” They were all staring at Wei Huan, the one-of-a-kind human. Even though Shanhai claimed neutrality, it was still a demon academy. Of course they would look at him like they were watching an ant.

Wei Huan patted Jing Yun’s shoulder calmly. “Let them stare. Good-looking people are meant to be seen.”

At that moment, a light screen appeared in front of the main building. On it was a stern face Wei Huan knew well—it was Lin Zhengze, the White Tiger instructor in charge of practical exams.

“Tsk, Old Lin’s still stuck in this job after all these years? Hasn’t he gotten promoted yet?” Wei Huan muttered, but Jing Yun overheard him.

“What did you say?”

“Huh? Nothing. Must be your nerves getting to you.” Wei Huan made something up quickly and pointed at the screen. “Looks like they’re about to announce the exam details.”

Jing Yun immediately turned his attention to the light screen.

“Welcome, examinees from across the demon realm. First, congratulations on making it to Shanhai. This is a successful start—but it’s only the beginning.”

Lin Zhengze’s expression was stern. “As you all know, Shanhai’s entrance exam is divided into a written test and a practical combat exam. The written exam is tonight, lasting two hours. Tomorrow morning, we’ll post the results on the main building’s screen. The top 50% of written test scorers will qualify for the practical exam tomorrow afternoon—a round-robin format. Again, the top 50% of that will officially enroll as Shanhai freshmen.”

The face on the screen disappeared, replaced by rows of text.

“Now, please find your assigned exam room according to the seating chart. You have fifteen minutes. Once the bell rings, late examinees will be disqualified.”

With hundreds of demon examinees crammed together, there was no way to see clearly. Wei Huan grabbed Jing Yun’s arm. “Can you fly? We need to get up there to see anything. Down here we can’t see squat.”

“I… I don’t know how to fly…” Jing Yun stammered.

“Fly. Right now.” Wei Huan gripped his shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Listen to me—don’t be afraid. You’re a Chongming bird.”

“You were born for the sky.”