Fiftieth Illustration: A Prank?

Sangsang fell silent. After a while, she finally looked up at the public notice board hanging outside her display area, dissatisfied with how small the prank warning was. “Jin, let’s revise the sign and add—‘Forty days’ experience of the full gestation process. This is a prank. Once the time is up, the fetus will vanish.’”

A striking new line appeared on the sign. Some who saw it were relieved, others disappointed, but most were angry.

“Got happy for nothing. Who jokes about something as important as reproduction?!”

Sangsang frowned, tugged her hood lower, and turned away from the crowd, heading downward. Suddenly, a voice sounded in her ear.

“Sang Hongye, wait.”

Jin, hidden by Sangsang’s ear, also heard the message, and commented, “That’s Bai Shu, the wood elf who ranked first in the physical skills test.”

Sangsang paused, turning as she asked Jin, “I remember you’ve never met Bai Shu. How can you tell it’s her?”

Jin lifted her little chin. “I’ve collected all the information I could on your competitors. Voice is just one factor. A quick comparison with the database is enough to confirm.”

A warmth blossomed in Sangsang’s heart, and the smile at the corner of her lips made Bai Shu, who recognized her, stare in astonishment.

In Bai Shu’s impression, Sang Hongye was cold and aloof, never attending social events. Some said she was self-aware and knew she couldn’t present herself well; others claimed she was both proud and insecure. Bai Shu used to agree, but after meeting her in person at the last physical skills test, she changed her mind—Insecurity? Sang Hongye was probably just like her, simply uninterested in dealing with people. Her gaze, no matter who it landed on, always seemed to be looking at a child—there was no common ground for conversation.

“It really is you. You went into the display area to modify your work and the decorations. When you came out, you tried to disguise yourself, but only a few wear the special class uniform, and you’re the only one who looks at everything with such calm detachment, as if analyzing the underlying principles,” Bai Shu said, her usual pride evident in her expression, though she forced a smile for Sangsang’s sake. After all, Sangsang was the only rival she truly respected besides Shui Ling, one of the rare few she could regard as an equal.

I’m just curious about everything, Sangsang thought, pulling her hood back a little. “Princess Bai Shu, good afternoon. I’m sorry I can’t remove my disguise to greet you properly.”

“Good afternoon.” Bai Shu nodded, the smile at her lips twitching, clearly aware of the recent mass pregnancy incident. “I viewed your work on the very first day it arrived. I’ve also experienced the revised space-time effect you created.”

At this, Sangsang’s smile froze. She couldn’t help glancing at Bai Shu’s stomach.

Bai Shu restrained herself from covering her abdomen and gestured for Sangsang to follow. “There are a lot of people looking for you outside. If you don’t want to be surrounded, don’t go back to the Forest of All Living Things. Would you like to come to my exhibition area instead?”

Sangsang hesitated, but Jin said, “According to the exhibition info, Bai Shu’s work is a life-based fruit tree—no pranks involved.”

“In that case, let’s see what she wants,” Sangsang replied, following Bai Shu into the highest-tier exhibition area.

This was a place overflowing with the laws of life. At its center stood a massive tree with lush branches and a canopy like a regal umbrella, continuously blooming and bearing fruit. Petals fell like rain, carpeting the ground in a thick layer. Children played and chased each other, couples sweetly dated beneath the tree, some people picked up petals, others caught ripe fruit as it fell—like a scene from a little girl’s dream.

Bai Shu led Sangsang to the treetop, where a hidden treehouse awaited—entry allowed only with the owner’s permission. After inviting Sangsang to sit, she reached out the window and picked a few fruits.

“Since you’re here, you must try my creation.”

Sangsang pulled back her hood and picked up a fruit, inhaling its scent. “Affinity Fruit—heals wounds and restores vitality. Your mastery of the law of life is close to condensing its essence.”

Bai Shu’s lips curled upward, pride gleaming in her eyes. “Hardly. It may seem there’s only a little left, but truly condensing the essence will take years of accumulation.” After her modesty, she praised Sangsang, “Your work has a strong hidden property. As expected of Mentor Boya’s student. The life aura of the elf seed is rich. If I were a thousand years older, perhaps I could grant it true life.”

“When I painted, my law of life was only at the second stage. I had to compensate in other ways,” Sangsang said, moving to the window to touch a flower bud, feeling the rhythm of life. She watched it bloom, wither, and fruit beneath her hand, mentally breaking down the growth process into array diagrams, then further into rune groups, and finally into individual runes—the very foundation of plant life.

Bai Shu watched Sangsang. The girl before her showed none of the timidity common to those from lower civilizations when they arrived in a higher one. The sensation caused by “Early Lotus” had been enormous; rumor had it that students were already crowding outside her dorm in the Forest of All Living Things, seeking trouble. Many on Starlight still didn’t know it was a prank and were expressing their gratitude. Yet Sangsang dared to write the truth on the sign herself, stating that the fetus would vanish after forty days, with no concern for how people might react once doused with cold water.

There was no fear in her at all. Was it ignorance, or had someone given her the confidence not to fear?

Bishop Anthony had provided her with the same educational benefits as a seeded candidate, but not even a single attendant. Mentor Yasilan was obscure and not even at star rank. Her medium of faith was only assigned to Mentor Boya because no one else would take her, otherwise she would have attended regular classes with the ordinary students. All these facts proved that Bishop Anthony’s regard was only so much. Her achievements had been earned on her own. Was her confidence rooted in herself?

A black butterfly mark on the back of Sangsang’s left hand lit up, breaking her immersion in the rhythm of life—and interrupting Bai Shu’s scrutiny.

“My guardian is looking for me,” Sangsang said, raising her head to take her leave.

Bai Shu escorted her to the door, then suddenly called after her, “Do you know the Saintess of a Hundred Flowers?”

Sangsang paused and shook her head. “I know very few people at the temple. The Saintess of a Hundred Flowers isn’t among them.”

“Could it be your origins? But the Saintess of a Hundred Flowers can’t be so shallow. Then it must be a high-level power play,” Bai Shu muttered, biting her lip. “I have a brother who is a Saint. He told me that the Saintess of a Hundred Flowers takes issue with you, and has voiced her dissatisfaction more than once at gatherings of the Saints.”

Sangsang’s eyes widened in surprise, pausing before she said gratefully, “Thank you. I understand.”

Bai Shu thought Sangsang was surprised at the Saintess’s hostility and explained further, “There are three main factions among the temple’s upper echelons: Bishop Anthony, Bishop Qining, and Bishop Glory. Bishop Anthony’s faction is friendly to all races. Bishop Qining’s is mainly human, generally from higher civilizations. Bishop Glory’s group is made up of special, reclusive races like wood elves. The Saintess of a Hundred Flowers belongs to Bishop Qining’s faction and is unusually close to the Chief Saint. Even Saints of equal rank must give her face. Her targeting you represents Qining’s stance toward you. What do you intend to do?”

Sangsang asked, “Will they affect the fairness of the election?”