Chapter 37: Vice Head (Part 1)

  Transtor: Krukist

  Lin Yu couldn’t help but grumble inwardly, though his face stayed bnk. He eyed the crystal card in his hand, marveling at it—like a bank card from his past life, etched with mystic arrays for cashing out Spirit Sto trade houses.

  “Pretty wild…” he muttered. His father had left him one, but it was empty by the time he transmigrated. This o different.

  Nan Ziyan giggled at his awe, strolling over with a crisp, “You’re that broke? Father said he gave you a thousand Spirit Stones yesterday.”

  Lin Yu froze, pocketing the card. He almost shook his head, but her haughty air—born of years atop the heap—sparked an idea. His tourned mournful. “Miss, you wouldn’t get it. Kids like me from dirt-poor homes, we ate big when we could— meal might not e. At my lowest, I had no clothes, just ran around in oversized hand-me-downs…”

  Pure nonsense. Before his father vanished, he and Lin Ling’er lived detly—not noble-rich, but solid. Lin Ling’er ouched prowing up—proof enough. Still, he admired her. Despite the fall from grace, she stayed upbeat, vowing to tough it out with him. When the inal Lin Yu hit ro, she’d been his rock. A sister like that—he’d kill to keep her safe.

  Back to the sob story, Nan Ziyan’s eyes welled up. Gazing at Lin Yu’s sharp yet gentle face, pity stirred. “So that’s a oner’s life… brutal. Yet it didn’t break him—it made him this good. No wonder his food doesn’t turn my stomach.” She resolved, “Father wants him as my private chef. If he agrees, he’s getting top treatment.”

  “To eat, I’d beg by bridges, hoping for scraps. Life’s better now, but I’ll never fet those days,” Lin Yu rambled on, oblivious to her full buy-in.

  Lin Ling’er’s mouth twitched. Her brother, a liar now? So ving—if she weren’t his sister, she’d fall for it too. Besides Nan Ziyan, Han Ya overheard, pity softening her gaze. She knew Lin Yu scraped by, sometimes starving to fund Lin Ling’er’s expenses.

  Turning to Shuitian, she said gravely, “Situ g thinks we’re after his recipe?”

  “Probably,” Shuitian replied, hesitating. “But when I ate the Braised Pork, I probed it with a spell. No trace of Spirit Chef teiques.”

  “No teiques, yet it’s a Spirit Feast. Only a frade Spirit Chef could pull that off—and Lin Yu’s not oheir talk flowed through thoughts, unseen by others, who only caught their smiles. “Exactly why I’m tapping him for Vice Head,” Shuitian thought babsp;

  “Hundreds of Great Houses eye Heavenly Cloud Academy. Me, Old He, and your master worked hard to keep it free from their s, letting its spirit breathe…” He sighed, gng at Lin Ling’er. Without their efforts, a gifted oner like her would’ve been snatched up decades ago—married off to some he moment she enrolled.

  “But freedom’s a double-edged sword. They think we’re hiding treasures, fueling their greed. The Dining Pavilion’s our bait—tangled in power pys. My eldest disciple holds it down, but he’s nearing a breakthrough, off wandering the kingdom now.”

  Han Ya’s jaw dropped, a gasp slipping out. “Brother Yun’s breaking through?”

  She caught herself, but too te—Nan Zhan’s eyes lit up with awe at Shuitian, then softened on Nan Ziyan, ’s st disciple. He’d settle for half the feats of ’s elusive eldest.

  Lin Yu, sing the room, figured this was above his paygrade. Time to bounce. Vice Head of the Dining Pavilion? He’d dodge it if he could—Lin Ling’er needed living cash. Plus, joining the Academy, even as staff, would eat his freedom. He wanted Spirit Stoo juice up his mind’s puter. This mess taught him: nth, no trol—fate’s a cage.

  Ba Earth, he didn’t get why novel protagonists raged against the world. Now, g values in this realm made it clear. To own his destiny, he needed power.

  Before he could speak, Shuitian cut in. “He’s been stuck at that bottleneck for years. Finally seeing light, I sent him roaming. The Dining Pavilion’s a mess now—leaderless, chaotic.”

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