"You put her in your class?" Instructor Zhou nearly choked on his tea.
Han Li only sipped his calmly. "She applied."
"She cursed her last teacher until he lost his cultivation!"
"Maybe he deserved it."
A storm of whispers followed Mei Lian's arrival. With her red-fox eyes and silk parasol, she didn't walk—she glided. Her reputation preceded her. Heiress to the Mei Clan of Spirit Charmers, she was both feared and ridiculed. Her clan once ruled charm arts in the Central Plains, until a great scandal—her mother had cursed a noble's entire bloodline in a duel gone wrong.
"I heard she speaks to spirits," one student murmured.
"No," Shen Mu corrected, "she commands them."
Mei Lian ignored them all, settling into her corner seat with a soft hum. Her parasol spun lazily, casting rotating shadows on her face.
Han Li approached, "You're late."
She looked up, unfazed. "I was deciding if you were worth my time."
"Oh?" Han Li crouched down to her level. "And?"
"You're ugly, poor, and your class smells like failure." She paused, then smiled. "Perfect."
The class held its breath. Would she be punished?
Han Li just nodded. "You'll fit right in."
Later, while others trained, Mei Lian sat with ghostfire butterflies on her fingertips.
"Why are you really here?" Shen Mu asked.
Mei Lian's parasol twitched. "I heard the Sky-Eater stirs. And wherever it goes, he follows."
"Who?"
She looked directly at Han Li across the courtyard. "The one that tamed it."
In the shadows, something chuckled, a whisper only she could hear.
"Good," Mei Lian whispered back. "I want to see what madness tastes like."
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