The Imperial Academy sat atop Spirit Crane Mountain like a fortress carved from clouds.
White marble walls stretched high above ancient pine trees. Grand staircases wound up the mountainside. Each step was engraved with cultivation runes that hummed faintly with spiritual energy. At the peak, pagoda towers pierced the morning sky, their golden rooftops blazing in the sunlight.
Lan Yue's jaw dropped.
This place makes the Zhao Residence look like a storage shed.
Hundreds of young cultivators gathered at the base of the mountain, accompanied by their families and servants. Carriages lined the road, each one finer than the last. Noble crests decorated everything, banners, parasols, even the horses' saddles.
And in the middle of it all, arriving in the simplest carriage on the road, was Zhao Lingxi.
She stepped out wearing clean but plain gray robes. No jewelry. No family crest. No entourage of servants. Just Lan Yue at her side.
Whispers started immediately.
