15. The Academy

Wutong Luxun gazed at the sky with his gilded demonic eyes.

There was a moon.

He focused his mind and relaxed his body.

“Ape Dance!”

A look of astonishment flashed in Sun Shen’s eyes. He was not surprised by this state of utter tranquility—indeed, the one discussing martial arts with him moments ago was a demon, but somehow, he always subconsciously overlooked the other’s monstrous appearance.

It was as if he were learning martial arts not from a monster, but from a living, breathing person.

But now everything was different.

All at once, he felt the other was no longer “human,” but a true, great demon.

The moonlight shimmered like water, rippling softly.

At first, Sun Shen thought his eyes deceived him, but soon he realized in shock that the luminescence truly circled around him. The spiritual energy of the moonlight stirred and fluctuated with the demon’s peculiar and precise movements, a subtle rustle filling the air, as ancient pines drew back their limbs to yield a wider sky for the great demon.

The birds roosting in the woods did not take flight in fright, but instead hopped closer to the silvery glow.

The night hawk, Toothless, and Gray Treasure staggered as if in a drunken haze.

Beasts and birds within the academy poked their heads out, as if a grand stage had been erected behind the ancient forest.

After a short while, the ape dance ended.

The gathering of beasts dispersed naturally, and the pine branches stretched back to their former positions.

Luxun found it somewhat odd—when wielding this technique, he could never quite tell how many moves or forms there were; he didn’t know whether an initial gesture counted as a move, or if a complete sequence was a form. In any case, he simply cycled through the entire set, letting Sun Shen decipher it himself.

Seeing Toothless and Gray Treasure sprawled crookedly on the ground, he wondered if perhaps it was just the late hour making them so drowsy.

Luxun looked at Sun Shen and let out a low growl in inquiry.

Sun Shen clasped his fists, replying earnestly, “Useful is an understatement—this is truly a profound cultivation method!”

Luxun nodded.

Sun Shen had taught him boxing without reservation, treating him with sincerity.

As a businessman who valued honesty above all, Luxun would certainly not withhold anything in return. Whether his Ape Dance was of use or not, he would always teach with enthusiasm whatever knowledge he possessed—and it seemed it was indeed useful.

If this truly was an advanced method of cultivation, perhaps he could teach it to Zhao Jia and the others as well.

…

Dong! Dong! Dong!

At the first light of dawn, the academy bell was struck.

The senior brother in charge of their group burst into the shared dormitory, followed by attendants distributing four sets of scholar’s attire to Cheng Yan and his companions.

Clearing his throat, the senior brother announced in a ringing voice, “You have been assigned to Class Dingyin. Your instructor is Mr. Cheng Yu. Now, get up and go run the mountain.”

“Run the mountain?”

Zhou Changcai yawned endlessly, and Wu Aguai, though grumpy at being woken, dared not show it before the senior brother. Lü He, however, rose quickly, while Cheng Yan, sporting heavy dark circles, looked exhausted—he had spent the night worrying about Uncle Cat and Gray Treasure, uncertain if they could take care of themselves, and had barely slept.

They quickly donned the academy’s issued training garb and assembled at the practice grounds, then, led by the martial instructor, set off into the back mountain.

It truly was a mountain run.

A full two quarters of an hour.

By the time they returned, the academy steward had breakfast ready.

After their morning meal, instead of literary study, they were put through horse stance and pole training.

They squatted for a full half-hour, then were released to wash up and change into long robes before being led to Class Dingyin by the senior brother.

This exhausting morning put an end to any illusions Zhou Changcai and Wu Aguai had—attending the academy was certainly no leisurely affair. Any feelings of strangeness toward the unfamiliar place were swept away.

Cheng Yan even felt that half an hour was not enough of a warm-up; he was used to rising an hour early for his own practice.

The four of them sat in the last row.

A low, broad table stood before them, a woven mat five feet square beneath their feet, and beside them a heel rest for kneeling—an oval stool tucked between the legs and under the hips.

On their desks sat the scholar’s four treasures—brush, ink, paper, and inkstone—along with neat stacks of classic texts, and at the top, the most basic Three Character Classic and Thousand Character Essay.

The academy’s preparations were thorough.

Sitting down, Cheng Yan found it all quite novel, though he still worried…

“Squeak.”

Cheng Yan looked down at the sound and saw a large rat beside his foot. For a moment, he could hardly recognize it.

The rat looked much like Gray Treasure, but Gray Treasure had never been this big—no matter how much he might grow, he couldn’t have become this large overnight.

Looking up, he saw a black cat crouched boldly on the beam, golden eyes fixed on him like a panther.

“Uncle Cat,” Cheng Yan murmured.

Since Uncle Cat was here, this rat must truly be Gray Treasure.

“Gray Treasure?” Cheng Yan called quietly.

The rat nodded with a squeak.

Cheng Yan was stunned. In the past, when he called Gray Treasure, he’d always respond, but usually in the eager way pets recognize their names. Now, though, instead of burrowing into Cheng Yan’s arms or climbing onto his palm, the rat simply nodded its oversized, triangular head.

“My goodness, Gray Treasure’s become a spirit,” Cheng Yan whispered in amazement. He had no idea what had happened to Gray Treasure, but suspected it had to do with Uncle Cat. Seeing the sly, mystical smile on the round cat’s face, he felt all but certain.

“That student making odd noises—”

Cheng Yan hurriedly stood, folded his hands, and answered, “Teacher, I am Cheng Yan.”

Mr. Cheng, the instructor, wore a scholar’s cap and gently tapped his ashen robe with a feather fan, smiling in satisfaction as he nodded. “Then let’s have Student Cheng begin.”

Cheng Yan stepped forward, bowed, and introduced himself.

Then came Zhou Changcai, Wu Aguai, and the impoverished Lü He.

The students in the front rows showed various expressions, but most remained calm, with only a hint of curiosity. There were more complex emotions too; the nearer rows displayed some scorn and arrogance, but those in the very front paid scant attention. Students came and went so often—there was little worth noting.

“Now, let us resume where we left off with Volume Seventeen of the Book of Songs…”

Mr. Cheng narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, holding only a feather fan rather than a book, and strode about the snow hall, reciting flawlessly from memory.

In the last row, the four boys opened their books. Cheng Yan, after some effort, found the passage and was about to lean in for a closer look when a round-faced black cat head popped up.

Gray Treasure was now nearly sixteen or seventeen inches long; the old cat was much larger still, ears pricked as he listened intently to Mr. Cheng’s lecture, golden eyes fixed on the open page.

Cheng Yan finally understood why his grandfather had said what he did.

Uncle Cat truly was here to study at the academy.

No wonder Grandfather had insisted on arranging another spot—he must have benefited from this as well.

Stealthily, Cheng Yan glanced around, then nudged the Book of Songs to the right side of the desk, so that one boy and one cat could read together.

Fortunately, Luxun had a bit of foundation—he wasn’t completely illiterate—but even so, it was a struggle, reminding Luxun of his own days learning classical texts.

Mr. Cheng, lost in his own delight, shook his head and recited in a resonant voice, “The owl, the owl, has taken my child—do not destroy my home. For your kindness and diligence, pity the one who sells his child…”

…

One boy and one cat scratched their heads in confusion.

After Mr. Cheng repeated the passage three times, the soft sounds of reading drifted from the classroom.

Cheng Yan imitated the teacher, swaying as he read aloud.

The old cat followed, mouthing the words with soft meows.

Gray Treasure flashed his buck teeth, yawned mightily, rolled over, grabbed Cheng Yan’s robe’s hem, and draped it over his little belly, falling asleep to the sound of recitation.

After lunch came the midday rest.

The sun slanted westward, not yet dusk.

The students spread their mats in the bamboo grove, sitting quietly to enjoy Mr. Cheng’s zither performance.

When the melody ended, the teacher set down his instrument, picked up his feather fan, and said, “Music Theory, Chapter Eleven: The Five Elements.”

…

Night.

To avoid disturbing Zhou Changcai and Wu Aguai, Cheng Yan and Lü He arranged to study in the library.

“Let’s go, Uncle Cat.”

Cheng Yan cradled the rat in his arms, a small bag of scholarly tools on his back, atop which sprawled a large black cat.

Lü He whispered, “Brother Cheng, are you sure about this? The library is a sacred place—if anything happens…”

“Don’t worry, Brother Lü—Uncle Cat and Gray Treasure would never cause trouble in the library.”

Lü He did not press him further.

Thus, the two boys and two spirits set off for the academy’s library.