“How would I know?” Feng Yuxin snorted, picturing what those people had done. “Because I heard some things.”
She glanced at them again. “What, you don’t suspect me?”
Dean Shang snapped, not bothering with any politeness. “Why would we suspect you? If you were a problem, those pills you gave us before would have been tainted. You wouldn’t have come to treat our elders now.”
Elder Kou had already reported, in exacting detail, all the contributions Feng Yuxin had made. Dean Shang, for his part, had selectively let other trusted elders in on parts of the story. So not only was Feng Yuxin above suspicion—she had become the Shanhai Academy’s good luck charm.
“If you hadn’t given us those promotion pills last time to upgrade some of our elders, we’d be in a far worse situation,” Elder Ding added.
The rest nodded in agreement. It wasn’t easy to find such unanimous attitude in the academy, but everyone had benefited from Feng Yuxin’s elixirs. Even those who had been lukewarm toward her changed their tune once she helped them claim so many treasures. She was, bluntly, the academy darling.
They were especially stunned when she treated wounds with the Verdant Force. They had only heard rumors that she possessed such power; few had seen it. Watching her stitch life back into the injured with a delicate, leaf-green light left them speechless.
“You really are our lucky star, girl,” Dean Shang said again, the gratitude plain in his voice.
“Talk it over,” Feng Yuxin said as she continued treating a wound. “When everyone’s recovered, decide how you want to strike back.”
Her suggestion fell the room into a sudden hush. She finished the needlework, glanced up, and found them still shocked, as if the idea of retaliation hadn’t occurred to them.
“You’re telling me none of you plan to retaliate?” she raised an eyebrow.
“Of course not.” Dean Shang shook his head. “It’s not that we don’t want to—we simply don’t have the time right now.”
Ever since the elders had been wounded they had been maintaining their meridians with their spiritual power, all the while fending off attacks from the demonic tribes outside. There was little room for strategy.
“Now you can start thinking about it,” Feng Yuxin said, standing and moving on to the next patient. There were six or seven injured elders scattered through the compound’s separate rooms; a few of them trailed after her when she went in to treat the others.
She frowned when they followed. “Weren’t you supposed to go to the council hall?”
“We thought, since you’re here, we could discuss it together.” Dean Shang’s tone had shifted since she first arrived; watching her act, he no longer saw a mere student. Sure, she wasn’t the most powerful person present, but at her age—rising from the beginner class to the advanced ranks in months—she was nothing short of exceptional. Shanhai Academy had been around for years; he’d never met a student who advanced so quickly. They couldn’t treat her as ordinary.
The other elders chimed in: “Yes. Formally, you may be a student, but to us you’re one of us.”
Feng Yuxin met their earnest gaze. Soul-Bing wasn’t here; she couldn’t employ mind-reading, but she was good at judging people. She paused, then asked, “How are merits earned here?”
They had all wondered how she had suddenly become prominent on the merits list, but of course they would tell her when she asked.
“It’s simple,” Dean Shang said, leaning forward to explain. “The outer battlefield—our frontline beyond the Divine Domain—is the border. When we fight the demonic tribes, those demons carry demon crystals. Our jade talisman scans the crystal, and the deed is recorded as merit on the talisman.”
Elder Ding added, “Ranks are determined by merit.”
“So influence is determined by merit?” Feng Yuxin asked.
“Yes.” Dean Shang nodded. “The outer battlefield ranks from one to ten stars.”
“What’s the highest star rank out there? And what’s the highest we have?” she pressed.
“The top is seven stars—the Pavilion Master of Qiankun. Most other powers, including the major academies, are six-star. Our highest is six: Grand Elder Du,” Dean Shang explained.
Feng Yuxin’s eyes narrowed. “Is our academy in a weaker position because the Qiankun pavilion’s master favors other factions, like Huantian Academy?”
That hit the mark. Dean Shang looked helpless. “He does lean toward Huantian Academy. That bias, combined with the loss of many of our elders, has worsened our situation. A few of our students were injured too; the alchemists treated them, and though they’re not deteriorating like the elders, they aren’t recovering quickly either.”
They were managing only because the elders could shield their meridians with spiritual power. Without that, many of them might already be dead.
“It’s no trouble,” Feng Yuxin said casually. “We’ll be stronger if everyone’s well. The stronger we are, the more voice we have.”
“That’s true.” Dean Shang agreed. “But here, strength and merit decide everything. Even if Elder Du’s strength matches the Qiankun Pavilion Master’s, lacking one star shifts the balance of influence.”
“None of that’s a problem,” Feng Yuxin said, a hint of mischief in her voice. “I specialize in toxins. If I can develop something that targets the demonic tribe—something they’re vulnerable to—we can use it on expeditions. Have our elders bring back the demon crystals, we earn the merits, and our star rank rises.”
She returned to her work, the motion calm and sure, as if she’d already mapped the steps in her mind. For the elders gathered around, there was a new sense of possibility—no longer just defense, but a plan.