Chapter Seventy-Three: Yun Ranran of Jiuzhou Academy

“Hurry and inform the Sect Master! Elder Yun has awakened!”

…

So noisy. Ugh—my head feels like it’s been struck by a brick; it hurts!

Lian blinked awake in a daze, and found herself facing two young men in white robes.

Peeping toms?!

Without a second thought, and ignoring the throbbing pain in her head, she punched each of them in the eye!

Cries of pain rang out, and a kindly looking old man in his forties, with a long beard, strode briskly to Lian’s side. “Yun girl, are you feeling better?”

She had no idea who he was, but his face seemed trustworthy enough. “I’m alright, just a headache.”

As she spoke, she gently touched her head, which was wrapped in bandages.

“You crashed headlong into the medicine cauldron—of course it hurts! You really were too reckless this time!”

Although she didn’t really know what had happened, she could only nod. After all, smashing into a cauldron was something she would never do herself—her predecessor certainly had a knack for drama.

Life is precious; nothing can’t be explained. Having brushed against death, with one foot in the grave, everything becomes clear.

She only hoped that in her next life, the soul that inhabited this body wouldn’t be so quick to give up.

She replied casually, sending away the steady stream of visitors who came to check on her.

[Master, that was the headmaster of the Jiuzhou Academy, Qiu Ze. The original name of your current body is Yun Ranran.

Both her parents were elders at the academy, but unfortunately, they perished together resisting a wave of demonic beasts. In their memory, the academy promoted Yun Ranran as the youngest elder and mentor.

Yun Ranran was blessed with outstanding talent and spiritual roots, but she always believed the academy was involved in her parents’ deaths. Just yesterday, after reading their last message, she lost control of her emotions and ended her life by crashing into the cauldron.]

After hearing this, Lian thought it was an act of sheer recklessness. Even if there was something suspicious about her parents’ deaths, she shouldn’t have killed herself—at the very least, she should have avenged them before going to join them.

But the real problem was that message. “Little Brat, do you have a copy of that note?”

[Hold on, I’ll replicate it for you right now!]

Moments later, a sheet of letter paper appeared in Lian’s hand. It contained only a few hasty lines:

“Ranran, your father and mother know this is a dangerous journey. In the days to come, be good, train diligently with your Sect Master uncle, and remember not to provoke others.

Father and mother will always love you.”

Two lines of writing, blurred by the marks of tears.

Yun Ranran must have known there was something fishy about her parents’ deaths, but Lian couldn’t understand why she would choose suicide—did she do it to make way for me?

[Master, you’re overthinking it.]

Even Little Brat added bluntly, making Lian glare in annoyance.

Enough—it was best to get a grasp of the general state of the Jiuzhou Continent first. Every time she inherited a new identity midway, it was a headache.

After an afternoon listening to Little Brat explain the Jiuzhou Continent and Jiuzhou Academy, Lian could barely keep her eyes open.

A knock sounded at the door. She burrowed under the covers and called, “Come in!”

A slightly plump girl entered, carrying a tray of food. “Elder Yun, the Sect Master sent this meal for you. Since you’ve just awakened, you shouldn’t eat anything too greasy. This medicinal porridge was prepared by Elder Yao himself. It will ease your pain and help you sleep.”

The girl’s robe was a much deeper shade than the ones worn by the two men from earlier; purple robes usually belonged to personal disciples.

“Thank you. Just leave it there—I’ll have it in a bit.” Lian pointed to the table.

The disciple put down the porridge, but turned back, still a bit hesitant. “Elder, the past is behind you now. Don’t dwell on it too much. Rather than clinging to what’s gone, it’s better to plan for the future. And don’t forget to drink your porridge!”

Staring at the girl’s round, earnest face, Lian couldn’t help but think, are all girls nowadays this adorable?

Her pale lips curved into a gentle smile. “Thank you. After what happened yesterday, I’ve come to terms with it.”

The disciple blushed, rubbing her ear shyly, then poured Lian a cup of hot tea before saying, “Elder Yun, I’ll take my leave!”

She closed the door softly, a faint smile on her face.

Lian leaned back in bed, drawing the medicinal porridge to her hand with a flicker of spiritual power, and took a taste without much decorum. The flavor was quite good, and the ingredients were all rare—clearly, Yun Ranran was well-loved at the academy.

The word “darling” popped into her mind—a term she’d learned from Tao Tao. She wondered if the little girl had cried after she left...

After finishing the porridge, her headache eased, and her spirits lifted.

“Brat, what’s that child’s name? She seemed thoughtful and well-behaved.”

She sipped the warm tea. Truly, the treatment of an elder was first-rate—even the tea was spirit-infused, boosting her energy with every sip.

[She’s the academy’s only personal disciple, and Yun Ranran’s martial niece—the heir of Sect Master Zitan: Tangtang. I tell you, that girl’s cultivation is almost on par with yours, and she’s only in her teens…]

The latter part of Little Brat’s sentence faded into a mumble, too low for Lian to catch.

Tangtang—what a casual name. She wondered what the person who named her had been thinking.

Far away, in the headmaster’s chamber, Headmaster Zitan sneezed. “Ah—ah—ah… Qiu—oh! Who’s talking about me behind my back? How rude…”

[Students at Jiuzhou Academy are divided into four tiers by natural talent: Red, Orange, Yellow, and Green—except for exceptional cases like Tangtang.]

Lian sat cross-legged on the bed. “And which tier am I supposed to teach?”

[Why not check this body’s cultivation level first?]

That reminded Lian—she checked, and felt utterly defeated.

Such excellent spiritual roots and talent, yet only at the third rank of Spiritualist. Tangtang was already at the sixth rank of Spiritual Master—how absurd!

“So, I teach… Green Class?”

[That’s what you’d think. The academy did assign you to Green Class, but not a single student chose it, so you became the only elder without students—living the life of leisure.]

Lian felt a bit awkward—after all, she’d have to change her name to Yun Ranran from now on.

[But don’t give up, Master! In two days, it’s the academy’s grand enrollment ceremony. If you perform well, you might still have a chance! Good luck, Master!]

In the dimension, Little Brat took the lead in applauding her.

Lian flopped onto the bed, pulling the covers over her face. Whatever—of all things in the world, sleep is the most important.

No matter what, from now on she would live for Yun Ranran, and the truth behind her parents’ sacrifice would be hers to uncover.

By now, perhaps Yun Ranran had already reunited with her parents in the Underworld.

…

The Underworld blazed with light; the streets were awash in red and green. Ghostly lanterns floated across the sky, and every shop was hung with scarlet lanterns. The passersby, some so beautiful they could steal a soul, others with blue faces and fangs, created a scene both eerie and lively.

Suddenly, one of the little ghosts piped up, “The King and Queen of the Underworld have returned! And they’ve brought the little princess!”

In an instant, the entire street bowed in reverence.

At the heart of the bustling ghost market, a magnificent palace opened its doors wide for three figures. “Welcome home, King, Queen, and little princess, to the Underworld!”