An Imperial Prince — Si Tingfeng

Lu Yuan's eyes sharpened slightly.

He was still browsing the school marketplace on his Light-Brain when one listing stopped him cold.

**Flicker** — Transcendent Gene. Two million credits.

*Teleportation.*

Was there anything more broken for combat? Blinking through space mid-fight — there was no counter for that. It was simply unanswerable. And with his Evolution Cube letting him push a gene past its natural ceiling indefinitely, who knew where Flicker could end up? Short-range blinks today, maybe jumping between planets someday.

The weaknesses were there: limited range, heavy Spirit Power consumption. But those were evolutionary problems — solvable with time.

The problem he couldn't evolve away was that he had exactly one hundred credits.

*Two million.* He stared at the number. *Right.*

He navigated away and searched for Origin Stones, holding his breath. They were there. He let it out.

First-rank Origin Stones — what a Warrior needed to break through to Battle Master — were listed at five hundred credits each. He still needed six. Three thousand credits, just for that. He noted that one hundred credits was roughly the value of a poorly-equipped First-rank Boss Grade armament. The gap between that and two million might as well have been an ocean.

*How is anyone supposed to get that many credits?*

His mind offered a suggestion. *Robbery?*

He caught himself. *What is wrong with me.*

He closed the Transcendent Gene section — looking at it was only making things worse — and pulled up Combat Techniques instead.

**Thunder Rush Flash**: a speed-type Combat Technique, the practitioner's body transmuting into living lightning for a burst of explosive velocity. Five hundred thousand credits. *Is there anything with stronger movement than this?*

**Thousand Flower Phantom Art**: a movement technique with an embedded illusion component, capable of disorienting opponents. Six hundred thousand credits. The downside was obvious: against anyone with illusion immunity, it would lose most of its force.

**Instant Shadow Sword**: a Chief Grade Combat Technique. The practitioner moved through shadows and struck from within an enemy's own, leaping out before they could react. Eight hundred thousand credits.

Lu Yuan stared until his eyes glazed over. Each one was tens or hundreds of thousands of credits. He was half-convinced the Talent Camp had set these prices specifically to make sure nobody could actually buy anything.

He didn't lack Gene Armaments at the moment anyway. His plan was simple: save whatever credits he earned and put them straight toward Origin Stones. He still needed six First-rank stones for his breakthrough, and he'd spent months hunting Feral Beasts through the Land of Origin to come up with just two. Getting six more was going to take serious effort.

He was still running numbers in his head when a knock at his door cut through his thoughts.

"Senior Yuan!" Mag's voice, pitched high. "Senior Tingfeng just got back! Come on — we're throwing you and Yang Ping a proper welcome dinner!"

Lu Yuan closed his Light-Brain and opened the door.

The three of them headed downstairs to the dining room.

At the table, a young man was setting out bowls and chopsticks alongside Beji. He was strikingly handsome — sharp features, dark hair, an easy, unhurried bearing that suggested someone who had never needed to try particularly hard at anything. There was something effortlessly free-spirited about him.

"Senior Tingfeng, they're here," Mag announced.

Si Tingfeng looked up and smiled.

"Welcome to Talent Camp, you two, and to Building 112. I hope we all get along well — if you run into any trouble down the road, feel free to come to me."

He tilted his head toward Mag. "Same goes for Mag. He'll tell you himself."

Mag laughed. "Three years here. Available anytime."

"Let me do the formal introduction," Mag continued. "This is Senior Si Tingfeng — Fourth Prince of the Red Maple Empire, and a fixture in the top ten of the Combat Power Rankings."

Both Lu Yuan and Yang Ping went still for a beat.

*Fourth Prince.*

Si Tingfeng waved a hand before either of them could react. "None of that 'Your Highness' business. We're all Talent Camp students here — future pillars of the Empire, the same as each other. I'm just a senior to you. Call me that."

"Nice to meet you, Senior Tingfeng," Lu Yuan said with a slight smile. "I'm Lu Yuan."

Yang Ping scratched the back of his head. "Nice to meet you, Senior Tingfeng. Yang Ping."

They sat. Beji had laid out a generous spread, with chilled beer already poured. Si Tingfeng raised his glass.

"To our two new juniors. Welcome."

All four clinked glasses. Yang Ping had drained his before Lu Yuan had even lifted his.

Si Tingfeng cast an appraising glance at Lu Yuan. "I caught people talking about you when I came back. Word is you're only First-rank, but you held your own against a Second-rank low-tier Boss Grade in the entrance assessment. That's genuinely impressive. I'd say you'll be in the top fifty of the Combat Power Rankings before long."

"Just luck," Lu Yuan said, a little embarrassed.

"Strength isn't something you can write off as luck," Si Tingfeng replied. His tone was easy, but he meant it. "What people call luck is just the inevitable result of hard work."

Mag made an enthusiastic sound of agreement. "Lu Yuan junior, you were already that powerful before officially enrolling? At this rate, you could be aiming for the top ten."

Yang Ping nodded vigorously, then seemed to check himself and nodded again — with slightly less conviction.

Conversation drifted naturally toward the subject none of them could ignore for long: credits.

"I took a look at the school store earlier," Yang Ping said, chewing a piece of pork. "So many incredible things. Just a shame about not having the credits."

Mag set down his chopsticks and nodded with the gravity of someone confirming a law of nature. "Credits are the one thing every student at this school is always short on. I've been here three years and I'm still strapped for them. It's not just students — even Senior Tingfeng, who's been in the top ten rankings his entire time here, doesn't have enough. Even some of the teachers don't."

"Then how do you actually build them up quickly?" Yang Ping asked, leaning forward. "Senior Tingfeng, any advice?"

Si Tingfeng thought for a moment.

"Early on, missions are your main avenue. Even simple tasks pay out something. Beyond that, if you come across rare items, you can trade them with other students for credits — the school doesn't restrict it, and the student forum exists specifically for that purpose. If what you're selling is valuable enough, even faculty will place bids." He paused. "Once you've accumulated enough credits, you invest in a solid Body Technique or spirit skill to raise your combat power, use that to climb the Combat Power Rankings, and the loop starts feeding itself — higher ranking means more credits, more credits means better resources, better resources means tougher missions, and tougher missions means rarer loot from the Land of Origin."

He took a drink. "There's also wager duels — a legitimate path, and potentially very lucrative. For the two of you right now, though, your strength isn't quite there yet."

*Wager duels,* Lu Yuan thought. *If I went the wager duel route, could I realistically rake in a few million credits?* He filed it away. *That would need planning. And right now, honestly, I'd just be giving my credits away.*

Yang Ping had straightened up. "I'll check the mission board first thing tomorrow!"

"One more thing worth mentioning," Si Tingfeng said. "Your enrollment timing was a bit unlucky. Today is September third — you're right at the start of the month. If you'd enrolled even a few days earlier, you could have entered last month's Combat Power Rankings and walked away with a reward."

Lu Yuan looked at him. "How much of a difference are we talking?"

Mag took over. "Positions four through ten each earn three thousand credits. The top three hundred earn five hundred. Below five hundred —" he shot Yang Ping a look that was almost sympathetic — "ten credits. Basically nothing." He returned his attention to Lu Yuan. "Especially unfortunate for you. You'd have placed in the top three hundred for certain, easy five hundred credits. For your cultivation level, that would buy some genuinely meaningful things." He looked back at Yang Ping. "Yang Ping junior, on the other hand, you'd probably have landed past five hundred anyway, so you'd only have gotten ten. Hard to say you missed much."

Yang Ping stared into his beer with the expression of a man receiving unflattering but accurate feedback. He tipped the glass back and drained it in one go.

"Ha." Si Tingfeng laughed. "When you really break down what five hundred credits is worth in real terms — it isn't quite a hundred million Red Maple Coins, but it's honestly not far off."

Lu Yuan pressed a hand to his chest. "Senior Mag, hearing that genuinely hurts. That feels like losing a hundred million."

"If it hurts, have a drink," Si Tingfeng said cheerfully. "Does wonders."

Lu Yuan, with the air of a man accepting difficult truths, lifted his glass and drank.

The welcome dinner stretched on for several comfortable hours. When the last dishes were cleared and the conversation finally wound down, all four drifted back upstairs. Beji handled the cleanup without needing to be asked.

That evening, Lu Yuan stretched out on his bed and picked up his phone.

There was a message from Li Qinghe, sent sometime before the dinner.

*Little Yuan, how are you settling in? Getting used to things?*

He typed back.

*Pretty comfortable, actually. There's even an Imperial Prince in my building — Si Tingfeng. He and another senior just threw a welcome dinner for me and Yang Ping.*

She replied quickly. She wasn't in the Land of Origin today.

*Oh? You're in the same dorm building as that Si Tingfeng kid?*

*You know him, Sister Qinghe?*

*The Si family has a Battle Emperor, and the Li family is nominally part of the Red Maple Empire. We've always been on decent terms with them. Of course I know him.*

Lu Yuan nodded to himself, reading that. *Right. A Battle Emperor clan would naturally move in those circles. Makes perfect sense.*

*By the way — I've already arranged a mentor for you. She should come find you tomorrow.*

*She? Sister Qinghe, who are you talking about?*

*My best friend. She happens to be an instructor at Talent Camp, and she's Guardian Type. I asked her to look after you.*

Lu Yuan paused, thinking.

*Is this the best friend who has a room at your place?*

*Smart boy! She's also an absolute beauty, for what it's worth. Very selective about taking students — she hasn't accepted a single one yet, even though plenty have tried. I had to work on her for quite a while to even get her to give you this chance. Don't embarrass me.*

*Don't worry, Sister Qinghe. I'm talented.*

*Oh, listen to yourself. Wait until you actually surpass me before you start bragging. Little rookie.*

Lu Yuan put the phone down with a smile.

Then, as he settled back against the pillow, his mind caught on something.

*The teacher Sister Qinghe mentioned earlier... is this Si Tingyu?*

He turned the name over. Something about it felt faintly familiar — like he'd seen it somewhere before — but he couldn't quite place it.

Then it clicked.

*Si Tingyu. Si Tingfeng.*

The same family name. The same 听 character in their given names.

His expression shifted. *Hold on. Does that mean I'm going to study under a Guardian Type warrior?*

He thought about his dorm-mates: Yang Ping was Assault Type, Mag was Assassin Type. Not a single Guardian Type between them.

*Is this mentor also from the royal family?*

The more he thought about it, the more it tracked. Given Li Qinghe's own status and connections, her closest friend very likely was. The Li family, as a Battle Emperor clan, moved in exactly those circles.

He lay there turning it over a while longer, then chatted with Li Qinghe a little more before putting the phone away and letting sleep take him.

The next morning.

Lu Yuan was deep in cultivation when voices drifted in from the hallway — excited, urgent.

"Junior! Lu Yuan junior! How did you manage it?! Is there any way to ask Teacher Si Tingyu to take another student?!"

He opened his eyes. *How did I manage what?*

He closed his Light-Brain and opened the door.

Mag was standing in the hallway looking as though he'd just been told his life was over and also somehow the best day of his life at the same time. Yang Ping stood behind him, watching Lu Yuan with an expression of barely restrained longing.

"You're finally out!" Mag burst out. "How did you pull it off?! Tell me!"

Lu Yuan looked at him. "Pull what off? What are you talking about?"

Mag's eyes had practically gone red. "What am I *talking about*?! *Teacher Si Tingyu came here. To this building. To find you. And she said she wants to take you as her student.* Do you understand what that means?! That's Teacher Si Tingyu! She's the dream — every single student and faculty member at this entire Talent Camp!"

Lu Yuan: "..."

*A full head of question marks.*

Behind Mag, Yang Ping cleared his throat with studied delicacy.

"...Hey, Bro Yuan. So. Your little bro here doesn't actually have a mentor yet."

Lu Yuan looked at the two of them.

He had absolutely no idea what expression he was supposed to make.