The Unexpected Admission Letter

The Feng family of the Huashan Sect traced its origins back to Feng Qingyang, a revered grandmaster of the Sword Sect, and a pivotal figure in the study of Huashan sword arts.

Senior Feng had inherited the true teachings of Senior Dugu Qiubai, the second principal of Tianwu University. Their ambiguous relationship, shrouded in mystery, became the subject of much fascination for centuries.

Indeed, countless tales of “push and pull” — or rather, “heroic and tragic” — romantic legends and martial arts sagas were woven by eager gossips.

The “pivotal” aspect, as it were, pertained to Linghu Ruoxu. The reason his family possessed the Dugu Nine Swords was because Senior Feng, acting on behalf of his senior, had passed on the art to Linghu Chong, the Great Hero Linghu, an ancestor of Linghu Ruoxu’s family.

Considering this lineage, Principal Dugu’s decision to appoint her as his secretary might simply be an act of an elder’s care for a junior. It might not be as scandalous as Yang Laoer had suggested.

****

I was still lost in a daze of contemplation when the woman seated across the desk from me cleared her throat softly, instantly snapping me back to reality.

“So, little sister,” she began, her voice sweet yet tinged with a hint of amusement, “since you’re not a student of Tianwu University, what brings you here to see Principal Dugu? He’s quite swamped with school affairs and various matters, so he might not have time to meet you over something like, say, your pear candy being stolen.”

She continued, a warm smile gracing her lips, “You must be a child of someone connected to the school, yes? How about this, I, your sister, will call your parents and have them come pick you up, alright?” All the while, her hands deftly continued to sort through her documents.

I paused, slightly taken aback, before managing a faint, wry smile.

‘Please, Auntie Feng,’ I thought, ‘even if I’m on the smaller side and don’t quite look like an undergraduate, I certainly haven’t regressed to elementary school. “Stolen pear candy,” indeed…’

Yet, recalling Yang Laoer’s usual admonitions to me and Linghu Ruoxu, I knew better than to actually call her “Auntie.” This senior alumna of Tianwu University, who had reportedly earned her doctorate just three or four years prior, might very well be provoked into silencing me permanently.

So, I meekly used her chosen address. “Big… Big Sister… I’ve come to see Principal Dugu because, well, I… I have an admission letter from Tianwu University… and I need to show it to him.”

“Hmm… An admission letter from Tianwu University?” she mused, a hint of confusion in her tone. “Did a student misplace it? You should really take this to the Academic Affairs Office, not bring it directly to the Principal.”

A sweet smile returned to her face. “Still, returning lost items to their owner is a wonderful habit, little sister. You’re very good!”

“I… I absolutely *must* show it to the Principal!” I insisted, gritting my teeth, my voice unintentionally rising by several decibels.

This outburst genuinely startled Feng Tian’er, who had been engrossed in her documents. Her beautiful eyes, wide with surprise, fixed on me as if I were a child throwing a tantrum.

Then, a gentle smile softened her features. “Alright, then, how about you let your sister see it first, okay?”

While I bristled slightly at her condescending, child-coaxing manner, I decided to tolerate it, given her undeniable beauty and sweet demeanor.

Despite my internal resolve, my lips involuntarily formed a pout. I unfastened the satchel from my back, then, with a touch of solemnity, retrieved the admission letter, folded twice, and slowly extended it to her.

A flicker of interest crossed her face, though she maintained a facade of respectful deference as she accepted the letter. She smiled, opening it carefully, and then a subtle trace of astonishment appeared on her beautiful features.

“Oh, it truly is an admission letter from Tianwu University,” she murmured. “And yes, this is undoubtedly Principal Dugu’s personal signature… Hmm… Dongfang Bubai… Foreign Language Academy… Special enrollment… Oh!”

She suddenly gasped, her captivating eyes, which seemed capable of ensnaring souls, now wide with disbelief. Her gaze darted repeatedly between me and the admission letter, a look of utter astonishment etched on her face.

Suddenly, she pushed back her chair with a decisive *swish* and rose to her feet.

“Little sister… ah… you… No, please, *you*,” she stammered, correcting herself with a sudden formality, “Please wait a moment! I, I’ll be right back! No, I, I’ll go inform Principal Dugu right away! You, you *must* wait here for me!”

Her graceful, slender figure whirled around the desk and hurried towards the door. As she vanished from my view outside the open office, I heard her slender back disappear down the corridor, followed by the rapid *click-clack* of high heels receding into the distance.

While I had somewhat braced myself for her sudden shift in demeanor, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret. She was, after all, a stunning beauty. Now that she knew my true identity, I feared her attitude towards me would undergo a drastic change, no longer treating me with the unguarded familiarity she had shown a child.

If Yang Laoer had been granted such a rare opportunity, I dared not even imagine the chaos that would have ensued.

Even as I lamented the fleeting nature of beauty—or rather, the fleeting ease of flirtation—that graceful, captivating figure reappeared, flustered, at her office doorway. She bowed slightly to me, still lost in my reverie on the chair.

“Principal Dugu requests your presence!” she announced, her right hand gesturing subtly, inviting me forward.

Observing her deferential manner, which aligned perfectly with my expectations, I realized my suspicions had been confirmed. Though I was no lecherous scoundrel like Yang Laoer, and currently inhabiting a female body, having lived as a male for so long brought an inexplicable sense of loss at being unable to tease a beautiful woman.

I sighed inwardly, then re-wrapped the satchel and secured it to my back. Hopping down from the chair, I offered a slight nod to Feng Tian’er, who still stood in a subtle bow, before slowly walking out.

We walked in silence, her graceful figure consistently at my side, occasionally gesturing for me to proceed. After approximately ten meters, we finally arrived at two tightly closed doors.

On the golden plaque to the right, written neatly in black regular script, were the three characters: “Principal’s Office.”

Feng Tian’er approached without hesitation, grasping one of the ornate door knockers and tapping it lightly. Through the remarkably thick, heavy door, an aged yet profoundly deep and resonant voice boomed forth.

“Enter!”

The two words resonated like clashing metal, or more precisely, like the keen cry of a sword mingling with a dragon’s roar.

Only then did Feng Tian’er slowly push one side of the heavy door inward. She then stood respectfully by the frame, bowing with an inviting gesture, ushering me inside.

I had intended to tell her that such formality was unnecessary, but the sheer gravity of the situation silenced me. I could only offer her a slight bow in return, then, following her guiding hand, slowly stepped through the threshold.

As I entered the room, the door, which had been ajar, slowly and silently swung shut behind me.