“I see you’re all packed.”
“Yes. I’ll be back on the weekends unless there’s school stuff.” His grandfather didn’t like waffling, so Yiran got to the point. “May I borrow a car?”
A beat of hesitation. Then a curt nod.
“Thank you, Zufu.”
Seconds passed. Yiran twitched uncomfortably. His grandfather was still focused on the bookshelf, but he hadn’t dismissed him yet. Yiran wasn’t sure if he was supposed to stay or go.
He counted to eleven. When nothing changed, he said, “I guess I better be going then. Don’t want to be late on my first day.” His laugh jittered.
His grandfather did not say a word.
Finally, Yiran bowed and left, closing the door behind him.
Disappointment frothed in his stomach. He didn’t know what he’d been hoping for. A smile? A kind word? Or for his grandfather to simply say,Enjoy your time at the Academy? He’d been foolish to think his bastard status would change in the old man’s eyes, that maybe somewhere in that cold heart, there’d be room for someone other than Ash.
Yiran snatched his suitcase and went down the hallway, cursing at his own naivete. It was only when he reached the garage that he realized what his grandfather had been staring so hard at. The bookshelf in the study housed the only picture Song Wei kept of his deceased son in the entire mansion.
It was a faded photograph of a young Song Liming in his Xingshan Academy uniform, smiling without a care in the world.
Yiran swerved into the parking lot, pulling into an empty spot with ease. Several cadets gawked at his luxury two-seater as they walked to class. In hindsight, he could’ve chosen a less selfish car—you could squeeze someone in the back but it wouldn’t be comfortable, and he might need to build some social cachet by offering free rides.
He got out in time to catch a boy laughing snidely at his ride, but another cadet threw him a look of interest. Yiran committed his face to memory, making a mental note to look him up. If Yiran was going to fit in here, it’d be best to know where the clique lines were drawn—and wherethey could be redrawn. With the Song name hanging around his neck like a noose, he needed all the help he could get.
He left his suitcase in the trunk and walked toward the main campus, adding a little extra swagger to his stride. He wasn’t just here to learn and fit in, he wanted to impress.
A group of girls settled into step with him. They were younger than he was. Juniors, maybe.
“You’re Ash’s little brother, aren’t you?” one of them asked.
Thelittlechafed, but Yiran flashed a winsome smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Aren’t you too old to be a freshie?” Up close, the girl’s cocky eyes and challenging smile told him she thought highly of herself and not a lot about him.
He had misread the situation. Most girls approached him thinking he could give them Ash’s number, or that Yiran could pass on a message or a gift. Sometimes girls approached him for him, but the group that was surrounding him and blocking his path now were a pack of foxes around a rabbit’s burrow.
Yiran kept his smile. “Chill with the ageism. No one’s ever too old to learn.”
Another girl with box-dyed red hair said, “Don’t expect anyone to take it easy on you, nepo baby. You’ll start at the bottom like all of us. Your granddaddy may have protected you for years, but here, we’re all equals. We’ve heard a lot about you, Song er shaoye.”
She cocked her head, and the entire posse turned on their heels, leaving Yiran standing alone.
In his old school, boys like Yiran were untouchable princes in their made-up kingdoms. He knew how that world worked, but Xingshan Academy was a different world. The rumors of a decadent lifestyle he’d let run free because it benefited him in the past were coming back to bite him now. He’d have to work doubly hard to earn everyone’s respect.
“Go big or go home,” he told himself, appraising the grand entrance of Xingshan Academy.
He would show them what he was made of.
The Academy was a stoic collection of gray and green: blocks of buildings, rectangular patches of grass, an oval field lined by a running track, tennis courts to the west of it, a huge lawn to the east, and the dormitories in the south. It seemed disappointingly ordinary on the surface, but Yiran soon found that this wasn’t the case at all.
Cadets spilled from classrooms and lecture halls, hurrying back to lecture halls and classrooms, passing him in a flurry of too-loud laughter. Yiran spotted deconstructed blazers and embellished shirts and skirts, along with colorful hairstyles and piercings and tattoos. Uniforms were mandatory at the Academy, and Ash had said it was because the special fabric worked with the cadets’ spiritual energy. But apparently it was up to the cadethowthey chose to wear it, and it seemed like they took their fashion seriously. Everyone wanted to stand out. It made Yiran look stuffy and out of place with his gelled-back hair and neatly pressed baby-blue dress shirt and dark gray pants. He couldn’t wait to get his uniform.
In between classes, the cadets practiced their spell casting and sparring in hallways and open spaces with wanton disregard of passersby. After dodging yet another sword thrust too closely as he walked by, Yiran decided that either this was good reflex training or perhaps everyone was testing his mettle.
He was glad the Academy had decided to fast-track him. His schedule accommodated one-on-one foundational and remedial classes, so he didn’t have to sit in a room full of first-years,andhe was able to observe the top senior class when they trained. In time, if he proved himself, he could train with them too. The box-dyed redhead was wrong—some people didn’t have to start from the bottom. But Yiran also knew this privilege would be frowned upon by his peers. Still, he needed all the help he could get.
His first-day lectures flew by quickly. The professors were pleasant, if a little miffed they had to reteach their introductory classes to a single student. He ate a late lunch with a senior professor, feigning interest in the man’s dull research in case he was somehow useful in the future. After a day of dealing with adults, Yiran was looking forward to finally meeting people his age. It would be his first time observing the top senior class and their physical training.
