The Quiet Pretty Boy

"Aaaahh!!"

"Owww!!"

"It hurts, it hurts, it hurts—easy, take it easy!!"

Mo Fan's wailing rang out from the infirmary, bouncing off the walls and lingering in the air far longer than any sound had a right to.

Baimei finished his examination, and once he was satisfied that Mo Fan hadn't sustained any lasting damage, he sent the young man off to change into a clean set of clothes.

"The medicine Ding Yumian gave you was decent—cleared out the fire toxins properly. That said, you took some pretty severe burns." He looked Mo Fan up and down. "You've got a thick hide on you, kid. Most mages would have passed out from this kind of pain."

"Probably been burned so many times my body's just built up a tolerance," Mo Fan said.

"Maybe so."

"Oh, Baimei—could you patch up my good-for-nothing Summoned Beast too while you're at it? It got hurt as well."

"I'm not a vet!" Baimei snapped, his face darkening.

After claiming tenth place, Mo Fan felt as though he'd become something of a campus landmark overnight. Whether they were fresh faces or familiar ones, everyone seemed to know him now—some gave him a wide berth, others went out of their way to ingratiate themselves.

Among the senior students, he'd earned the reputation of an arrogant, insufferable upstart. Among the freshmen, his standing was sky-high, and he was trending toward figurehead territory—after all, he was the one who'd planted their flag in the top ten.

First-years stepping into the Main Campus always had it rough. They didn't know the unspoken rules, they lacked experience, and they had their resources quietly siphoned off by those who'd been around longer. What Mo Fan had done today gave the entire freshman cohort a reason to stand a little taller.

Student factions were everywhere at Pearl Academy, and Mo Fan belonged to none of them—which meant the olive branches kept coming, one after another. He couldn't duck into a bathroom stall without someone from the next one over launching into a heartfelt recruitment pitch.

Fortunately, word had spread that Mo Fan wasn't joining anyone. The midlevel factions held back and observed. The bigger Noble Clans and powers mostly knew he was living with a girl from the Mu Family, so most of them didn't bother pressing the point.

But the peace didn't last long.

Gradually, hands from the larger powers began to reach toward him.

Nobody knew who the busybody was, but someone had seized on the occasion of Mo Fan's entry into the top ten to leak something that sent him straight back into the eye of the storm: Mo Fan had already been internally designated as one of the national selections for the World Academy Tournament. After weeks of riding high, he was suddenly thrust into controversy all over again.

On the Fire Rankings, top ten meant roughly Pearl Academy inner court top hundred. In the eyes of the academy's true elite, that made this freshman impressively strong—but still a long way from shaking the godlike figures who populated the Pearl Rankings proper.

Anyone who actually paid close attention to the World Academy Tournament understood how selection worked: the roster was built for students with genuine, dominant power. Even the top three on individual element rankings might get passed over. So why would a freshman be pre-designated?

He'd only just cracked the element rankings' top ten. Whether he'd crack Pearl Academy's overall top hundred at all was still an open question. The general rankings' top ten hadn't been pre-selected—so on what grounds did this kid deserve it?

*Is he the personal son of the Ministry of Magical Education's minister or something?!*

"You heard the news? The Great Demon Lord Mo Fan is a guaranteed pick—they say he already has a locked-in spot on the World Academy Tournament roster."

"Ridiculous. Our national team draws from the strongest students across every top academy in the country. Never mind that he only just broke into the element rankings' top ten here at Pearl Academy—even if he somehow cracked the overall top ten, he'd still be competing against the first- and second-ranked students from every other academy in the world. Just where exactly would he place in all of that?"

"I thought the same. But this came from a reliable source."

"'Reliable sources.' 'The relevant authorities.' 'Experts.' Those are the three things you should trust the least."

The campus buzzed with chatter. Everyone had been talking about Mo Fan's top-ten breakthrough, and now, with the pre-selection rumor detonating on top of it, the gossip had reached a fever pitch.

Mo Fan had been quietly basking in the freshmen's reverence and the seniors' grudging respect—then this broke, and the whole school seemed to catch red-eye disease overnight.

"They've built him up so high and talked such a big game. He's going to come crashing down eventually."

"You, of all people, a pre-selected player? Forget experts from other academies crushing you—students right here in your own school could beat you into the ground."

"So this is the pre-selected candidate. Doesn't look like anything special to me."

The voices came from every direction, insufferable and relentless. Mo Fan was thoroughly fed up. *I'd love to find whoever leaked that information and personally introduce their face to a wall.*

Still, the sheer volume of outrage was its own kind of proof of how much the tournament mattered. Whether it was the top-tier competitors scheming and backstabbing for a single nomination, or the onlookers who could only watch and seethe—everyone cared desperately about the World Academy Tournament.

And with good reason. Organized by the Five Continents Magic Association and held jointly by the world's finest academies, it was an event the senior mages quietly sidestepped—they had reputations to protect, and a public loss would only tarnish them. Among the younger generation, though, passion burned fiercely hot. Every tournament became a spectacle that riveted the entire world.

These rising talents spent their academy years working every angle to stand out—building names for themselves, collecting admirers, plotting and scheming for attention. Yet none of it, however elaborate the strategy or devoted the fanbase, could compare to a single World Academy Tournament appearance. Even being a substitute was enough to send the Noble Clan behind that student soaring, their associated faction transformed overnight.

Previously, the various powers had regarded Mo Fan's standout performance with measured interest. Now, with the pre-selection rumor out in the open, he was scorching hot—and regardless of whether it was true, every faction in existence had decided he was a must-have.

Inside the academy walls: envy, red-eyed and seething. Outside: a forest of olive branches, every shade of green.

Mo Fan just wanted to be a quiet, unassuming, handsome young man and live his life in peace.

It was only later that Mo Fan pieced it all together. Chief Adjudicator Tang Zong was one of the key decision-makers for the World Academy Tournament roster. Tang Yue had mentioned long ago that she had a gift for him—it turned out she'd learned early, through her grandfather Tang Zong, that the Chief Adjudicator had specifically championed Mo Fan for a position.

What made it particularly convenient was that the Magic Court's designated voter had recently retired, leaving the selection rights to Councillor Zhu Meng. As a sitting court councillor, Zhu Meng had always held one vote—now, as the acting head of the Magic Court's voting rights, he held two. The man whom Mo Fan had berated on more than one occasion was now wielding two nominations.

Under ordinary circumstances, four votes was considered effectively guaranteed placement on the roster.

Tang Zong had cast one vote for Mo Fan. Councillor Zhu Meng, apparently moved by lingering guilt over the death of the Totem Xuan Serpent, gave Mo Fan both of his votes.

Three votes—practically a done deal.

As the World Academy Tournament selection window drew near, the top students from academies across the country were drawing blood over a single nomination. Word suddenly got out that someone had already been quietly penciled in—and the expressions on their faces were something to behold.

Take Dongfang Lie, currently ranked first on the Fire Rankings. He didn't even have a nomination to his name yet.