The clamor of the sacred canon finally ebbed away like the tide, and the royal garden returned once more to tranquil silence.
Deep within Luo Lan’s mind, the Little Iron Book seemed to have been injected with fresh vitality the instant the prologue mission was completed—so much so that he seriously wondered whether everything he had used up to now had been some kind of cursed beta test version.
The first thing that met his gaze was a complex panel labeled 【Ritual Altar】. Its core mechanic was brutally simple: offer the required “sacrificial tributes” and a motley collection of eccentric functions under 【Conceptual Fantasy】 could be unlocked or upgraded.
His thoughts skimmed across the faintly luminous item names; his heartbeat involuntarily quickened.
【Split Thinking】, 【Deep Thought Simulation】… What even is this? Virtual human brain? Left brain fighting right brain? Okay, that actually sounds kinda fun.
What attracted him most, however, was a function that screamed “cheat code” and felt like a fantasy-world 3D printer—【Conceptual Manifestation】.
Unfortunately, it still lay quite far beyond his current reach.
And then there was the long list of requirements beneath it—most of them grayed out and locked—which swiftly doused his excitement with cold reality.
Next came the Little Iron Book proper—the Atlas Cube portion. Thank the heavens, Luo Lan finally knew what this thing was actually called.
The two newly unlocked features, after being explained in that characteristically cryptic, metaphor-laden mini-essay on the page, were summarized by Luo Lan in the bluntest possible terms:
One was an absolutely soul-bound, only-he-can-see-and-use, theoretically indestructible personal storage space.
The other was something akin to a synthesizer: a device capable of transforming or fusing designated materials according to set rules.
Naturally, the recipe list was likewise riddled with massive gaps waiting to be filled. Still, compared to its previous state of being basically a fancy brick, this was already a qualitative evolution.
At the very least, he now had a clear direction to work toward.
All things considered, if the prologue were graded out of 100, Luo Lan would give himself a fairly average 80. The missing 20 points were deducted purely because he had been thoroughly played by certain people.
……
The carriage emblazoned with the Blanxue family crest glided smoothly along the streets back toward the mansion. Inside, magic crystal lamps cast a gentle glow, wrapping the interior in an especially warm and comfortable ambiance.
Madame Blanxue reclined gracefully against the cushioned seat, her gaze resting on the girl sitting opposite.
Ophelia had turned her head slightly to watch the street scenes sliding past the window. In the soft, hazy interplay of light and shadow, her profile looked remarkably calm. The persistent gloom that had lingered between her brows for days had already vanished, replaced by a fresh brightness and keen edge.
Madame blinked lightly. She thought to herself: indeed, the child should be taken out more often, allowed to meet different people and experience different things. Keeping her locked away in the training grounds and study day after day was good for neither body nor soul.
Tonight she had also witnessed Ophelia dancing with that boy from the Lufenias family. Objectively speaking, the young man did seem quite promising. Several familiar noble ladies had even offered polite compliments along the lines of “Miss Blanxue and that rising star make quite a fine match” and “It’s always good for young people to interact more.”
Madame Blanxue lifted the cup of warm red tea at her side and spoke in a deliberately casual tone:
“Ophelia, what do you think of that boy named Luo Lan from the Lufenias family?”
Ophelia withdrew her gaze from the window. After a brief pause, she answered:
“Him? He doesn’t look particularly striking. His manners and etiquette are only barely passable, his clothes and accessories aren’t especially noteworthy, and his magical aptitude… might actually be a little better than mine. In short—he’s a pretty unusual person.”
To Madame Blanxue’s ears, those words inevitably carried an additional shade of meaning.
Unusual?
For her daughter—who had always regarded almost everyone with faint disdain—to use that word, and even qualify it with “pretty,” was itself highly irregular.
It was exceedingly rare for Ophelia to admit that anyone was superior to her in any respect.
Madame took a slow sip of tea, studying Ophelia’s lovely features while her thoughts drifted back many years.
Seven years earlier, the dark scandal that swept through Valgard’s upper circles had implicated countless houses. The catastrophic fall of the Lufenias family had merely been the most visible casualty. Many other families had faded into obscurity because of it, and even House Blanxue had spent several years treading on thin ice.
But time marches on. A new generation was now beginning to rise, and His Majesty appeared to have no desire to reopen old wounds.
Perhaps… some matters really ought to be laid to rest.
“I see.” Madame Blanxue set her teacup down gently. “He sounds like a young man worth keeping an eye on. When you’re both at the academy, perhaps you can interact with him a little more.”
Ophelia gave a small nod.
—Of course there would be more interaction. There had to be more. A very, very great deal more.
……
The heavy doors closed behind him, sealing away the slight chill and distant clamor of the capital’s night.
After stepping down from the carriage, Luo Lan didn’t even bother removing his formal coat before turning directly to Yuna, who had followed him inside.
He quickly pulled the girl off to the side.
“I clearly threw that magic crystal token away—so why did it come back to me? Also, what exactly were the test results? And why in the world would even the dean of Atlas personally show up and basically strong-arm me into joining the academy like that?”
He fired the questions in a single breath, eyes locked intently on Yuna’s.
Yuna’s shoulders shrank slightly. She glanced up at him, then quickly lowered her gaze again, voice tinged with innocence.
“At first I just wanted to help you get into the academy… As for the test results, all of us participants swore an oath not to reveal them… And I really don’t know why the dean came in person.”
The air between them grew heavy and stagnant—until a voice drifted over from the direction of the living room.
“Luo Lan, Yuna? What are you two doing over there?”
Luo Lan rubbed the bridge of his nose, temporarily shelving his questions. Together with Yuna he walked into the living room, one after the other.
A quiet fire crackled in the hearth.
Klovia had already changed out of her elaborate gown and was now seated on the sofa beside the fireplace, cradling a steaming cup of milk in both hands. Her clear eyes fixed on Luo Lan.
“So… why did you throw that token away?”
Luo Lan pressed his lips together, still searching for the right words—when suddenly Alya appeared silently beside Yuna, grabbed her younger sister by the back of the collar, and simply marched her straight out of the room.
Alya even considerately pulled the living-room door closed behind them, leaving the space entirely to the two people by the sofa.
Silence descended abruptly.
Klovia lifted her head; firelight danced in her eyes.
“Why? Did you… not want to enter the academy together with me?”
Hearing that, Luo Lan could only manage a wry, helpless smile inside.
What else could he possibly say? He could only explain that he had wanted to see whether he could get into Atlas relying solely on his own strength.
Klovia said nothing. She simply watched him quietly.
Time flowed in the stillness, as though a very long while had passed before she finally gave a soft murmur of acknowledgment.
The girl looked away, turning her gaze toward the leaping flames in the hearth.
At some point the pure moonlight had crept up to the windowsill and was now pouring through the tall panes, bathing Klovia in a gentle silver glow.
Her slightly curled-up figure on the sofa looked especially tender and lovable beneath the moonlight.
Silence spread through the air once again.
Then, suddenly, Klovia rose from the sofa. Barefoot, she stepped across the thick, soft carpet, approaching Luo Lan one slow step at a time.
Luo Lan was momentarily bewildered and instinctively took a step back.
She advanced; he retreated—until the backs of his calves bumped against the edge of the sofa and he could retreat no farther.
Klovia reached out and gave a light push. He fell backward onto the soft cushions.
Before he could react, the light before his eyes was blocked by her approaching figure. Klovia leaned down, bracing both hands on the armrests to either side of him.
The cool, clear scent that belonged to her instantly enveloped him.
Then she lowered her head and pressed her lips against his.
Her lips were sweet and soft.
The sensation was unexpectedly cool, carrying with it the unique inexperience of youth that was hers alone.
The kiss was feather-light, barely a touch, like a dragonfly skimming water.
Luo Lan froze on the sofa, mind completely blank.
All he could feel was the lingering sensation on his lips and the warm, hurried breaths of the girl so close to him.
Still leaning over him, Klovia wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.
“Luo Lan… I hope this is the last time I ever see you dancing with another girl.”
With that, her arms tightened just slightly.
“Also… it’s been a very long time since I properly practiced magic. Tomorrow, I’d like to go somewhere outside the city with you. We can review a little… and prepare for Atlas Academy’s entrance.”