Rising Phoenix

Yao Yangyu stared at Feng Zhiwei with a look of surprise, never imagining that the mild and kind Wei Zhi had such intimidating anger. It was as if he were facing a glorious phoenix¹, one moment arcing gorgeously through the open sky, the next diving in fury with her sharply gleaming beak.

He sat in stunned amazement, and before he could react Feng Zhiwei had kicked out and shattered a leg of his chair.

Caught by surprise, Yao Yangyu fell to the ground, sliding downwards and eating dirt by Feng Zhiwei’s feet.

Feng Zhiwei stepped forward, pressing down on the young man’s back, her other foot flicking the token into the air and onto the table. Her anger sheathed, she smiled once again: “Everyone, is it worth something now?”

The stunned young masters finally responded, nodding hurriedly.

As the silent boys watched in amazement, Feng Zhiwei gestured, her gathered guards shutting the dining hall door.

“Then let’s play.” Feng Zhiwei said lightly. “You all want to play, so I will accompany you. My token is priceless, as you all admit, so I will use this Vice President token as my stake. You all bet one Liang per match, and everyone must play until I lose. As long as I haven’t lost, you must keep playing without break. You cannot leave, cannot east, cannot sleep, or even piss while you play.”

Her small smile crossed her face again as she looked into the deathly pale faces: “Let’s have some fun.”

The gathered housemasters who’d come to watch her performance were all filled with the same thought — shameless!

With her priceless token, she could never lose all her money, so this ploy could only end with everyone else going bankrupt, and this was without even mentioning her torturous demands.

The young masters began to play, but it was the first time they were being forced. Feng Zhiwei was shameless beyond compare, eating while the boys watched, leaving anytime she needed, obeying none of the rules she herself had set, but who could stop her?

When she left, the young masters wanted to flee, but Master Gu, Fourth Rank Weapon Bearing Imperial Guard stood vigil, his signature white veil blocking any attempt. As he stood by the crowd, his walnuts in his hand, his reputation suppressed all rebellion, his very presence wielding absolute power in the hall.

“I have diarrhea…” One person complained.

Young Master Gu flicked out a walnut shell, the makeshift ammunition piercing the air like an arrow, scaring the shit back up into the young man’s colon.

“I’m ill…” Another man said, falling to the ground and twitching.

Young Master Gu flicked out another walnut shell arrow, knocking out the offending ruffian and curing his illness.

 “I’m not playing! I’ve seen people sell through force, but I’ve never seen anyone forced to have fun!” Another young master said bravely, having exhausted all tricks.

Walnut shells flew through the air like a rain of arrows, pounding the young master’s head full of bumps.

Some of the young masters were slowly sidling out of view, edging towards the door while the gathered housemasters turned a blind eye, but just as a hand reached the door’s clasp, the door swung open and smashed into his nose.

The thick wooden door opened out onto the starry night, and a pair of beautiful eyes peered through the rain of walnut shells at the unconscious men on the ground. Vice Headmaster Wei had returned, body rested and stomach filled, ready for another shift.

One young master could handle it no more, his eyes rolling up into his head as he directly passed out.

The great barrier of walnut arrows barred the way of even demons and gods.

After three days and three nights of the enforced gaming time students lay strewn every which way on the dining hall floor and only two figures remained standing.

Of course, it was the Vice Headmaster and her walnut guard.

“When will I find a worthy opponent…” Feng Zhiwei sighed, her lonely silhouette stilled among the collapsed crowd.

Young Master Gu chewed his eighth walnut of the day.

From that day forward, no one dared play any of the layabout betting games in Qing Ming Academy, and the tortured young masters were all suitably scarred, immediately running anytime they saw anyone playing Finger-Guessing, vomiting at the thought.

The Qing Ming Academy lost much of its rowdiness, but after a few gameless days, the young masters grew bored once more. This time, they did not play the forbidden betting games but instead played Fly Ball — a noble entertainment good for the body that even His Majesty recommended; surely Vice Headmaster Wei would say nothing about this?

In the courtyard in front of the Politics and History Department, students played, energetically chasing balls as they secretly gambled.

Two days later, the Vice Headmaster and his walnut guard made another appearance.

The young masters immediately grew weak at the knees, but the Vice Headmaster was unusually kind that day, simply watching them play. When the students saw the Vice Headmaster doing nothing, they grew bold.

After the third game had begun, Feng Zhiwei turned to Young Master Gu: “Do you understand?

Young Master Gu replied: “Take the ball, smash it into the goal.”

Feng Zhiwei sighed in admiration, praising Young Master Gu’s wisdom, nudging him to join in the next round.

And so the Fly-Ball team’s doomsday began.

No matter what angle, what trajectory, what plan, or what feint they tried, the jade statue of a man would always be there, spitting a walnut shell in your face and stealing your ball before smashing it into your goal. In that moment, true darkness would fall over your eyes as you felt the heavens and earth collapsing around you, and life would grow too painful to live as your hopes were destroyed.

Yao Yangyu, the Fly-Ball team captain had just been blocked the eighteenth time when he grabbed the ball, hugging it to his chest as he cried indignantly to the skies: “Heavens! How can you allow this travesty!”

Young Master Gu dashed over, stealing the ball and kicking it into Young Master Yao’s face.

“You cheated.”

Young Master Gu announced calmly, chewing on his walnut.

Qing Ming Academy’s Vice Headmaster became the true number two power of the land, his fame almost as resounding as that of the Headmaster. Now, whenever students met their Vice Headmaster, every one of them would hurriedly retreat and walk backwards, bowing respectfully all the while.

To all this, the Vice President only innocently commented: “I’m actually a very kind person.”

The Very Kind Vice Headmaster had a whistle custom made, after all she knew that the Qing Ming Academy had no entertainment and such a deathly serious atmosphere would not be good for the students, so she instigated a new Morning Exercise Decree.

Everyday at Fifth Watch, before light touched the sky, Fourth Rank Weapon Bearing Imperial Guard Gu would climb the tallest tower overlooking the Politics and History department, wielding the whistle to loud effect.

When the whistle blew, no matter how painful it was, every Politics and History student needed to turn out for their morning run.

And because Young Master Gu’s lung capacity was very good, his loud, insanity inducing whistle would not stop until every student had arrived.