Chapter 49: In Every Sense of the Word
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
Yun Yingzhi ended his call with Jia Qingwan. At noon, he had lunch with his three roommates. The three of them asked with concern why he had been taking so many days off lately. Yun Yingzhi frowned slightly. At that moment, his mind was still filled with the StarNet headlines—“What a pure and simple defensive-type source weapon!”—and he failed to notice the worried looks directed at him from all around the cafeteria.
Some students even whispered that Yun Yingzhi was the most beautiful sight at Fansa Academy. Days without seeing him felt dull and gray—time itself seemed to crawl. Others said that while you could never truly know someone’s heart—like that “Red Peony” boy whose source weapons looked stunning but were all laced with hidden thorns—Yun Yingzhi was different. He looked gentle and harmless, and in truth, he was gentle and harmless. He was the only one who was truly beautiful inside and out. The sentiment spread quickly, and soon everyone agreed.
“I’ve been in the hospital lately,” Yun Yingzhi said. “My health hasn’t been great, so I’ve been trying to recover.” He paused, then added, “I actually wanted to skip exams this term, but I didn’t want to make them up during break, so… I came anyway.”
Yu Feiwen’s eyes filled with even more concern. Around them, others in the cafeteria overheard and began murmuring.
“Is the school beauty’s health really that bad?”
“If he’s like this, how’s he supposed to take the combat exam?”
“My heart aches for him!”
Ji Xiaobo’s brow furrowed, his expression full of worry. “Yingzhi, please don’t push yourself.”
But Yun Yingzhi’s mind was still occupied by the StarNet’s widespread misunderstanding of him. His fine features were shadowed with melancholy, and under the soft light streaming through the cafeteria’s tall glass windows, he looked heartbreakingly fragile—like porcelain that might shatter from a single touch. He looked at Ji Xiaobo and smiled faintly. “It’s okay.”
To everyone else, his smile looked bittersweet. How pitiful, they thought. How heart-wrenching.
By the end of lunch, word about Yun Yingzhi had already spread through the Fansa Academy Combat Department. Everyone finally understood why the Academy had granted him medical leave—it was because he’d been hospitalized. Now he was sitting for exams while still ill.
Outrage swept through the students. They thought General Yun and Madam Yun were far too harsh. How could they make someone as delicate as Yun Yingzhi suffer through combat training? Some even went online, hiding behind anonymous accounts, to curse the general and his wife across major platforms.
At the same time, concern for Yun Yingzhi only deepened. Rumors snowballed. Before long, someone was saying that Yun Yingzhi had recently undergone surgery. Sure, he could sit for the written exams—but the combat test? Impossible!
A second-year student declared passionately, “We have to protect Yingzhi!”
The rest of the students agreed immediately.
The exams continued. That afternoon, there was only one subject left. Yun Yingzhi ran a hand through his hair, feeling nearly bald from stress. The test was so hard—it was harder than taking care of two Little Buns at once.
Several students kept sneaking glances at him, hearts breaking at the sight of his troubled face. He’s clearly sick, and he’s still forcing himself to be here, they thought. It must be torture for him.
Suddenly, the proctor walked over. Yun Yingzhi blinked, caught off guard, meeting the teacher’s gaze.
“Yingzhi,” the proctor asked gently, “are you feeling all right?”
My… health? After a blank pause, realization dawned. Oh right—Yun Yinghui had used his poor health as an excuse to get him time off when he’d actually been… giving birth to two Little Buns. After a short silence, Yun Yingzhi nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
The proctor sighed softly. “Just don’t push yourself too hard, all right?”
Yun Yingzhi nodded again. The other students looked at him with awe. He was so strong. If it had been them, they’d already have gone to the infirmary to lie down.
Time crept by, and at last, the day’s exams were over. It was only a little after three in the afternoon. Yun Yinghui sent a message saying he was already waiting with the two Little Buns in the academy’s underground parking lot. Yun Yingzhi told his roommates and left.
Before he could go, they asked where he was headed. Yun Yingzhi’s eyelid twitched. “To the hospital,” he said. He had to get regular checkups every few days—and so did the two Little Buns. Since Yun Yinghui still didn’t feel safe letting them go home yet, they hadn’t been discharged.
His roommates looked at him with pity as he waved goodbye and walked off. What he didn’t know was that as soon as he left, word spread once again: the ailing Yun Yingzhi had finished his exam and was heading back to the hospital for follow-up care. So frail, yet so determined—how could anyone not love him?
Yun Yingzhi met up with Yun Yinghui. The two Little Buns had played themselves out and were sprawled fast asleep in the hovercar. Yun Yingzhi gathered them both into his arms, leaned back in the seat, and soon drifted off himself.
When he woke again, he was lying in a hospital bed. Judging by the situation, Yun Yinghui must have carried him up while he was asleep. He turned his head and saw the Little Buns. Little Egg was resting obediently inside his incubator, while Little Kit had curled up on Yun Yinghui’s chest.
Just then, a communication alert chimed—it was a call from Yu Feiwen. Yun Yingzhi accepted it. Through the video feed, Yu Feiwen and the others could see the background of the hospital room. Fresh from sleep, Yun Yingzhi looked especially pale and fragile.
“Yingzhi,” Yu Feiwen said, “we were all worried about you. How are you feeling now?”
Propping himself halfway up, Yun Yingzhi replied, “Don’t worry, I’m much better now.”
Yu Feiwen and the others exchanged looks. For someone as strong-willed as Yun Yingzhi, he would never have taken time off unless absolutely necessary. If he said he was “better,” then how bad had he been before? After a few more words, they ended the call.
Then, suddenly, Yun Yingzhi remembered something important. He had promised Ji Xiaobo, Jing Haomiao, and Wei Yuanqing that he would make source weapons for them—but he still hadn’t gotten around to it.
He used to be nearly broke, but lately, he’d scraped together enough resources. Plus, Yun Yinghui had turned in that space-restriction source weapon to the Empire, earning a substantial reward. So, at least for now, he wasn’t poor anymore. Of course, if he started researching new source weapons again, that money could vanish in minutes—so he needed to be careful.
He decided to put off crafting the next-level (eighth-grade) source weapon for a while and instead focus on creating customized ones for Ji Xiaobo and Jing Haomiao before the final practical exams. He told Yun Yinghui his plans, intending to head to Alvin’s Workshop.
But just as he was pulling on his jacket to leave, the two clingy Little Buns stirred awake. And that was when trouble began again.
Little Kit leapt straight from Yun Yinghui’s chest onto Yun Yingzhi, his tiny paws and feet clinging tightly as he scrambled upward and wriggled into the collar of Yun Yingzhi’s shirt. Little Egg followed his example. Controlling his space esper, he blinked out of sight and slipped right into Yun Yingzhi’s collar as well. Yun Yingzhi’s eyelid twitched. He pulled both Little Buns out.
Little Kit seemed angry. He let out several soft “awws” at Yun Yingzhi, tears pattering down his furry cheeks. Little Egg bounced up and down, clearly expressing his dissatisfaction.
Yun Yinghui frowned, his tone full of concern. “Zhizhi, since you’re going to Alvin’s workshop, why don’t you take them with you?”
“I’m worried they’ll disturb me,” Yun Yingzhi said.
“I’ll go with you,” Yun Yinghui replied. “I’ll watch them, and I won’t let them get in your way.”
Yun Yingzhi hesitated, wiped away Little Kit’s tears, thought it over, and agreed. Yun Yinghui drove while Yun Yingzhi sat in the backseat with the incubator and Little Kit. Before long, the hovercar reached Alvin’s workshop. Teacher Alvin, who had worked hard most of his life, had finally taken a long vacation and still hadn’t returned. Yun Yingzhi contacted him every few days, but the reply was always the same—I’ll be back soon.
After passing several layers of authentication to enter the workshop, Yun Yingzhi planned to begin making the source weapon right away. Little Kit, however, had no intention of letting him off so easily. He climbed up onto Yun Yingzhi again, patted him until he met his gaze, and started waving his paws and feet in the air.
He patted again, let out a little “aww” at nothing, then drooped his ears and softly went “da.” He pointed toward the wall, rested his chin on his paws, and widened his big sparkling eyes as he continued his strange pantomime. Little Kit gestured and gestured.
Yun Yingzhi understood that Little Kit was trying to tell him something, but he had absolutely no idea what it was. Puzzled, he turned to Yun Yinghui. “Brother, what’s Jiaojiao saying?”
Yun Yinghui’s eyelid twitched. He wanted to say, If his own dad can’t understand him, how could I? But… Somehow, Yun Yinghui did have a vague sense of what Little Kit meant.
Apparently, Little Kit wanted to say that his uncle had taken him to the Imperial Palace today, where he met His Majesty and His Imperial Consort. Faced with their overwhelming power, he could only squeak a few “das” in greeting. Then Their Majesties showed him a projected video of a stunningly beautiful person—just a little less beautiful than his dad—and incredibly strong.
What Little Kit really meant was that he wanted to watch that impressive battle again. Yun Yinghui realized that not only had he understood Little Kit, but he could even tell what Little Egg was trying to say.
Inside the incubator, Little Egg bounced and spun in circles, clearly expressing the same thing—that the beautiful person had been amazing, and he wanted to keep watching too.
Yun Yinghui found the situation strangely uncanny—being able to understand two baby Buns’ gestures like this. After a pause, he said, “Zhizhi, Jiaojiao’s saying he loves you.”
Yun Yingzhi’s eyes curved into crescents as he smiled. He scooped up Little Kit and kissed him. Little Kit initially reached out his tiny paw to push Yun Yingzhi away, but then, remembering how nice it felt to be kissed, he bubbled with happiness and licked Yun Yingzhi back. Still, he wasn’t done trying to get his point across and resumed his animated paw-and-foot routine.
Seeing Little Kit getting such special treatment, Little Egg became jealous. Taking advantage of Little Kit’s distraction, he used his space esper to teleport him clear across the workshop—right to the farthest corner from Yun Yingzhi.
The bubbling joy around Little Kit froze. He glared at Little Egg with a look of pure death stare. Clearly, Little Egg was clever. Knowing that Little Kit would probably block his teleporting ability, Little Egg didn’t use his esper again. Instead, he rolled across the floor as fast as he could toward Yun Yingzhi, rubbing against him affectionately to beg for a kiss.
Little Kit’s tiny body trembled. He was furious! He growled several “awws” at Little Egg and charged in to start a fight. Little Egg rolled around Yun Yingzhi in circles, dodging every attack.
Yun Yingzhi’s eyelid twitched uncontrollably. He once again had the strong urge to stuff both of them back into their boxes.
“Jiaojiao, Taotao,” Yun Yinghui said, “don’t bother your dad. Weren’t you two saying you wanted to see the source weapon test replay? Come here to Uncle—I’ll play it for you.”
Yun Yingzhi blinked, confused. When did they ever say that? And to his disbelief, both Little Buns—who supposedly couldn’t understand human speech—actually stopped fighting when they heard Yun Yinghui’s words. Little Kit looked at him. Little Egg rolled halfway over to watch.
Yun Yingzhi thought, No way… Could my brother actually understand them? Wasn’t this the same brother who had told him earlier that Little Kit was just confessing his love? While Yun Yingzhi was still reeling, Little Kit let out a confused little “da?”
Yun Yinghui calmly opened his personal terminal and, under Yun Yingzhi’s silent stare, brought up the day’s Starshine Competition source weapon test replay. Yun Yingzhi thought, Why does it have to be the replay of the one I made? To his further dismay, Little Kit immediately started toddling toward Yun Yinghui.
“Jiaojiao,” Yun Yinghui coaxed, “you have to bring Taotao with you. Only then will Uncle play it for you.”
Yun Yingzhi thought that was far too complicated for them to understand. Indeed, Little Kit tilted his head. “Da?” Yun Yinghui, infinitely patient in the name of building sibling Bun bonding, pointed at Little Egg. Little Kit looked at Little Egg, then back at Yun Yinghui.
Yun Yinghui nodded gently. “That’s right. Jiaojiao, you have to hold Taotao and come together, and then Uncle will show you.” He pointed first at Little Egg, then at the projection screen.
And then Yun Yingzhi saw… Little Kit turned to Little Egg and opened his tiny arms. Little Egg, very sensibly, rolled right into Little Kit’s embrace. For that moment, the two Little Buns looked like the picture of brotherly harmony. Holding the equally sized Little Egg in his tiny arms, Little Kit toddled up to Yun Yinghui.
Yun Yinghui picked them both up, settled them in his lap, and started the replay. Yun Yingzhi was amazed. He found it strangely impressive that Yun Yinghui could actually communicate with the two Little Buns—and just as impressive that they could bend and adapt so easily. He decided not to think too much about it and turned his focus back to crafting the source weapon.
About four hours later, Yun Yingzhi successfully created two source weapons based on his roommates’ requests. He and Yun Yinghui left the workshop together.
The two Little Buns, after playing for a while, fell sound asleep in Yun Yinghui’s arms. Yun Yinghui took Yun Yingzhi out for dinner. After the meal, as they returned to the hospital, Yun Yingzhi suddenly remembered what Jia Qingwan had said earlier—that she wanted to watch his combat exam. His cheeks flushed. “Brother, you can’t come to watch,” he said firmly.
Yun Yinghui’s eyelid twitched again. Remembering Emperor Jarren and the Imperial Consort’s plan to attend the exam, he suddenly had no idea how to respond. After a brief silence, unwilling to lie outright, he offered a half-truth. “Zhizhi, I have to take care of Jiaojiao and Taotao,” he said—planning, of course, to bring both Little Buns along.
Yun Yingzhi thought it over. His brother had already spent nearly the whole day with him, and it would be hard to entrust the two mischievous Little Buns to anyone else—especially since both were battle babies and a handful to manage. He sighed softly. His Highness Elvis’s genes really are terrifying, he thought. Even the bunny-form Little Kit couldn’t escape being influenced.
Apparently, His Highness had been quite the handful as a child himself.
“Brother,” Yun Yingzhi added, “you must persuade Sister Qingwan not to come watch, either.”
After a moment of silence, Yun Yinghui said, “Zhizhi, I’ll pass your message on to her.”
Yun Yingzhi nodded, satisfied. Good. That settles it.
December 29 — Day Two of Exams. The second day was written exams again. Early that morning, Yun Yingzhi met Ji Xiaobo and Jing Haomiao in the test hall and handed them the weapons he had made. Both were overjoyed.
Today’s test was even harder than yesterday’s. Yun Yingzhi’s face looked even more troubled—so much so that, in the eyes of his classmates, he appeared to be a delicate beauty silently enduring great suffering.
Heartache.
Pain.
Heartbreak.
On December 30th, the third day of final exams, the 1v1 combat tests were scheduled to take place.
Early that morning, Yun Yinghui stood with the two Little Buns and said to Yun Yingzhi, “Zhizhi, I’ll drive you to school.”
Yun Yingzhi shook his head like a rattle drum, insisting again and again that Yun Yinghui must not bring the two Little Buns—or any of his friends—to Fansa Academy. He quickened his pace and hurried out of the hospital.
He absolutely did not want to give Yun Yinghui any chance to show up at Fansa Academy! What Yun Yingzhi didn’t know was that the moment he left, Emperor Jarren and the Imperial Consort had already contacted Yun Yinghui.
To avoid causing a public stir, the two decided to enter Fansa Academy together with Yun Yinghui and the two Little Buns. Worried their presence might distract the students, they didn’t plan to watch the matches in person but would instead view the live feed from the arena.
Yun Yinghui arranged a time with them. Almost right after the plan was set, Nangong Qing and the others reached out to Yun Yinghui, saying they wanted to watch Yun Yingzhi’s combat test too.
Yun Yinghui froze for a moment. He knew Jia Qingwan seemed interested in this, but he never imagined Nangong Qing and the others would be just as eager. Remembering Yun Yingzhi’s plea, Yun Yinghui tried to dissuade them, but Nangong Qing’s group wouldn’t listen at all.
What he didn’t realize was that Nangong Qing and the rest had grown extremely curious about Yun Yingzhi. After all, Yun Yingzhi’s carefully maintained “delicate and gentle” image had been so solid for so many years. When Yun Yinghui mentioned that Emperor Jarren and the Imperial Consort would also be attending, the group didn’t mind in the slightest.
In the end, all three parties decided to go together.
At nine o’clock that morning, Yun Yinghui brought the two Little Buns and met up with Emperor Jarren, the Imperial Consort, and Nangong Qing’s group. The Imperial Consort immediately reached for the little kit the moment he saw him. The little kit drooped his soft bunny face, shook his fur, and let out a lifeless little “da.”
The little egg, on the other hand, happily flung himself into Jia Qingwan’s arms. But his joy didn’t last long before Emperor Jarren scooped him up, turning him into a listless little egg. From that subtle shift in atmosphere, Nangong Qing and the others instantly sensed that something was off. They began sending Yun Yinghui private messages one after another.
Yun Yinghui’s aura turned sharp, his gaze cold as he replied: His Majesty and the Imperial Consort will keep this from the Crown Prince. You must all keep it from him too.
Jia Qingwan: Got it. Don’t worry.
What Yun Yinghui didn’t know was that, because of matters concerning Yun Yingzhi, Jia Qingwan and the others had secretly formed a small private chat group. Yun Yinghui’s protective filter over Yun Yingzhi was far too thick. No matter how strange Yun Yingzhi behaved, Yun Yinghui always found endless excuses to explain it away.
Inside the group, their conversation was already in full swing.
Jin Taichu: Today’s match should finally make Yinghui realize that Yingzhi isn’t as weak as he thinks—he doesn’t need to be protected every second.
Nangong Qing: I agree with Qingwan. I’m dying to know how Yingzhi’s been pulling this off for so long.
Shan Junyu: Yingzhi never awakened an esper ability, but we’ve all seen his physical stats when he was creating source weapons—his speed and strength were solid. With his own source weapons boosting him, even without any esper powers, he should be a formidable fighter.
Jia Qingwan: Exactly.
They went on discussing just how astonishing Yun Yingzhi might turn out to be.
…
…
The group entered Fansa Academy. The academy’s dean personally greeted them and, per Emperor Jarren’s request, made sure no other staff or students were alerted to their arrival. Emperor Jarren stated bluntly that he wanted to see the students’ most genuine performances. Under the dean’s lead, they entered a private viewing room.
Their timing was perfect.
On the front projection, the second-year students were already filing into the arena. Everyone immediately searched for their target. And sure enough, Yun Yingzhi stood out effortlessly. Even through the video feed, he was the most eye-catching presence in the entire group.
Everyone spotted him right away. Except… Jia Qingwan nudged Yun Yinghui.
In the Imperial Consort’s arms, the little kit suddenly perked up, staring at the projected image of Yun Yingzhi and letting out a series of excited “da-da” sounds. His small body wriggled, trying to leap toward the screen, but the Imperial Consort held him firmly in place.
The little kit grew angry, twisted around with effort, and barked at the Imperial Consort, “Ao!”
Little kit, “Ao ao!”
Most people might not have understood him, but Nangong Qing and the others did—they knew perfectly well that “da” meant he was being cute, and “ao” meant he was mad.
Watching the tiny kit yelp “ao ao” at the most revered person in the empire, they almost burst out laughing. They thought, even the Crown Prince himself probably wouldn’t dare act like that toward the Imperial Consort… only the little kit could be this fearless.
The Imperial Consort gently rubbed the kit’s head and turned to Yun Yinghui. “Lord Yinghui, what is Jiao-Jiao saying?”
The little kit twisted halfway around again, stretching out his tiny paw toward Yun Yinghui, blinking his eyes pitifully. “Da!”
Yun Yinghui: “…Ji…”
Nangong Qing and the others exchanged puzzled glances. Why would the Imperial Consort ask Yun Yinghui such a question? How could Yun Yinghui possibly understand the kit’s random little “da’s” and “ao’s”?
What they didn’t know was that he actually could. The first thing the little kit had said to the Imperial Consort was: Don’t you dare hold me back—my dad’s right there! If you don’t let me go, I’ll call for him!
And the second thing was directed to Yun Yinghui himself: Hurry up and take me to Dad!
But Yun Yinghui only said, calmly, “Forgive me, Your Highness. I’m afraid I didn’t understand what he meant.”
The Imperial Consort gave him a doubtful look. The little kit blinked and gave another confused, questioning “da-da?” Jia Qingwan nudged Yun Yinghui again.
Pretending not to understand the kit’s “ao”s and “da”s, Yun Yinghui turned to her and asked, “What is it?”
Jia Qingwan asked softly, “Did Yingzhi dress up specially today?”
Yun Yinghui frowned slightly. “No…” He looked toward the projected image of Yun Yingzhi, hesitated, then added uncertainly, “…I think?”
Most of the people present had seen Yun Yingzhi before. Yet, for some reason, even though he was wearing the same uniform as every other student, and there wasn’t the slightest change in his appearance, this time he somehow looked… fragile. He looked like the most delicate glass ornament, as if one touch would either melt him—or shatter him completely.
For a fleeting moment, Jia Qingwan and the others actually believed that Yun Yingzhi was truly fragile. No—wait! They quickly remembered contestant A13167. That person was Yun Yingzhi himself! Yun Yingzhi wasn’t fragile at all. That frail, delicate impression was pure illusion.
Jia Qingwan shook her head, refusing to let herself be brainwashed by his gentle appearance. She felt, suddenly, that she might be starting to understand how Yun Yingzhi had managed to maintain his soft, fragile persona for all these years without it ever collapsing. Right now, she was dying to know how his practical combat classes at Fansa Academy usually went.
She was so curious. The Imperial Consort suddenly said, “I kept feeling something was off before. Now I think… I finally know what it is.”
Everyone turned toward him in puzzlement. The Imperial Consort said, “There are always students looking at Yingzhi.”
Yun Yinghui thought that was perfectly normal. Wherever Yun Yingzhi went, he always drew attention. Those eyes practically glued themselves to him.
But then the Imperial Consort added quietly, “The way they’re looking at him… it’s full of pity.”
Yun Yinghui: “…”
Everyone else: “…”
Jia Qingwan murmured uncertainly, “It… kind of does look that way?”
They all watched more closely. The Imperial Consort seemed right. But when they thought about it, there didn’t seem to be any real reason. Why would all those students be looking at Yun Yingzhi with such pity in their eyes? On the projected screen, the students were already lined up, ready for their 1v1 matches.
Yun Yingzhi entered the training hall with his classmates. He kept remembering how Jia Qingwan had said she wanted to come watch, and his gaze couldn’t help but drift toward the crowd.
Students gathered around him, asking if his health was all right. Yun Yingzhi wanted to reassure them, but thoughts of Jia Qingwan distracted him. The result—his expression turned unconsciously soft and absentminded. At that moment, he looked heartbreakingly delicate.
The students, remembering how he had recently been bedridden and was still forcing himself to attend the exams, felt their hearts twist in sympathy. Now, seeing that fragile look on his face, their hearts shattered into even smaller pieces.
The third day’s test was a 1v1 combat exam. Each student was to fight seven matches, with ten arenas running simultaneously. Three combat instructors served as referees, scoring each student based on victories, speed, reflexes, and performance. The grade-level instructors would later determine total scores, with win–loss records weighing the heaviest.
Soon, the pairings were announced—Yun Yingzhi was in the very first group.
Under everyone’s gaze, Yun Yingzhi and his classmate walked into their assigned ring. The contrast between them was stark: Yun Yingzhi’s skin was so pale it was almost translucent, while his opponent had naturally dark skin. Standing face-to-face, the difference was like night and day.
Following the rules, they shook hands before stepping back to their respective sides. Yun Yingzhi himself didn’t seem to think much of it, but the three instructors—and the spectators watching the live broadcast, including Emperor Jarren—could all feel something.
At that moment, they seemed to finally understand one of the main reasons why Yun Yingzhi’s fragile persona had never collapsed. Just look at the classmates who had gazed at him with pity earlier—now they were glaring at his opponent with open hostility, their eyes full of deathly warning. Even the three examiners, though not glaring, couldn’t hide the deep concern in their expressions as they looked at Yun Yingzhi.
When the referee announced, “Begin!” The two immediately took action.
The student facing Yun Yingzhi shifted into his second form at once—a massive brown bear—and let out a deafening roar. On the opposite side, Yun Yingzhi instinctively took a half step back, his body trembling ever so slightly.
The movement was tiny, almost imperceptible—but to trained combat students with sharp dynamic vision, it was obvious. They already pitied him before, and now their hearts ached even more. Even Emperor Jarren and the others watching through the live feed tensed with concern. Through the projection, they saw Yun Yingzhi transform into his own second form—a small white rabbit, about thirty centimeters tall.
Once again, the contrast between the huge brown bear and the tiny white rabbit was overwhelming. Almost instinctively, everyone held their breath, anxiety welling in their chests for the little rabbit.
The Imperial Consort gasped softly, “Zhizhi is so small!” His tone brimmed with delight. “So cute!”
Everyone agreed—he was a tiny, perfect ball of white fluff, easily the smallest second form ever seen in a military academy.
And then—the battle between the brown bear and the little white rabbit began. The bear charged straight at the rabbit. The rabbit leapt nimbly backward, narrowly dodging. Despite his bulk, the brown bear was shockingly fast, closing the distance again in an instant. The little white rabbit activated his source weapon—rings of flame suddenly surrounded the entire arena.
Moments later, they all heard a dull, heavy thud. The huge brown bear staggered backward as if struck by an invisible force, then crashed to the ground.
Inside the VIP viewing room, Emperor Jarren and the others stared in stunned silence. Jia Qingwan’s gaze stayed fixed on the projection. She nudged Yun Yinghui again. Yun Yinghui’s expression remained frozen—his eyes still locked on the image of the small white rabbit.
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