September 1st, the second day of the eighth month in the lunar calendar.
Auspicious for sacrifices and prayers.
Inauspicious for consecration.
Zheng Qing lay in bed, yawning lazily and counting on his fingers under the covers.
It really wasn't a good day for school to start.
He squinted, taking a deep breath.
Today was Monday.
There was a Spell Class in the morning.
This would be his first class in his University life.
How exciting.
Perhaps the excitement from yesterday hadn't faded, as Zheng Qing slept restlessly last night, even waking up once from a nightmare in the middle of the night, but he quickly fell back asleep.
He exhaled the stale Qi accumulated in his chest and opened his eyes.
The dormitory was very quiet.
The sky was just beginning to lighten, and through the balcony glass, the noisy chirping of birds could faintly be heard from outside the window.
Zheng Qing carefully climbed out of bed.
On the large desk in the center of the dorm, the Little Elves' cardboard box was still placed.
He carefully lifted the fine fleece blanket covering the cardboard box.
Inside the box, the little fellows were still sound asleep.
Zheng Qing frowned, feeling that things were a bit tricky.
Perhaps after class today, he should go ask the Old Professor how to save the injured Little Elves.
Right now, he was truly powerless.
Zheng Qing sighed and covered the cardboard box with the blanket again.
The Fat Cat nestled on the windowsill twitched its ears, let out a big yawn, and then buried its head deeper into its front paws.
Next to him, faint snores came from Xin Fatty's bed. Zheng Qing noticed that a section of his thin blanket had fallen to the floor, so he chuckled and helped the Fatty tuck it back onto the bed.
Dylan's bed, however, was very quiet.
He didn't know if the coffin blocked out snores, or if he didn't snore when he slept.
Zheng Qing's gaze quickly slid past the Edge of the tightly closed, heavy curtains.
He didn't want to encounter any bad luck first thing in the morning.
After washing up, Zheng Qing went to the balcony, planning to do his morning practice.
He habitually pulled out a handful of Hamster food from a gray bag, preparing to sprinkle it on the windowsill of the balcony.
Then he froze there.
He gave a bitter smile.
He was too used to doing morning practice with that fat Hamster.
He wondered if anyone was feeding it after he left home.
Closing his eyes nostalgically, he stretched his limbs slightly, and Zheng Qing couldn't help but frown.
The dormitory's balcony was a bit too small, not allowing him to stretch out fully.
"If you want to do morning exercises, it's better to go downstairs," Xiao Xiao's low voice drifted over. "The dormitory isn't a suitable place."
Turning his head, Xiao Xiao had already changed into a dark red practice uniform and was tightening his belt.
Zheng Qing quickly slipped back into the dorm to change his clothes.
Before leaving, he hesitated, then pointed at the still-sleeping Xin Fatty and the silent Dylan, opening his mouth and silently asking, "What about them?"
Xiao Xiao didn't speak, but instead pulled him out of the dorm.
"Do you think werewolves like daytime, or Vampires like daytime?"
Zheng Qing thought of werewolves under the moonlight and Vampires in the darkness, and shook his head.
"So, don't observe night-dwellers with the mindset of day-dwellers." Xiao Xiao held his large glasses in his hand, pondering whether to put them in his backpack.
"Then how does he attend class?"
"They don't like daytime, but that doesn't mean they can't be out during the day. Especially here, at First University. There are many doors on campus, and many long corridors."
"I see. What about Xin?"
"That Fatty doesn't look like a creature that does morning exercises." Xiao Xiao finally put on his large glasses, while holding his black-shelled notebook in his arms, and sighed, "Moreover, Blue Giant and such are not scholars like you and me. We can only draw strength from books, they only need to guide their talents and develop the abilities of their Bloodline."
Thinking of Xin Fatty snoring under the covers, Zheng Qing suddenly felt life was unfair.
In the early morning campus, there weren't many students.
On the sports field, Zheng Qing observed carefully, and students with yellow faces were in the majority. A small number of white and black-skinned students could also be easily identified by their robust physiques, indicating their majors.
"They're all combat-oriented fanatics."
Watching a bald, large black-skinned man practice boxing with heavy shackles, Zheng Qing shook his head repeatedly.
"Squeak squeak~" A white figure emerged from somewhere, circling Zheng Qing excitedly.
"Poseidon?" Zheng Qing exclaimed in surprise, grabbing the fox by the fur on its head and pulling it into his arms, rubbing it fiercely: "Hey! You scoundrel!"
"The sun is rising! Are you here to walk your dog?" Xiao Xiao squinted and grumbled sourly.
His Old Turtle was still hiding somewhere.
"This is a fox." Zheng Qing stroked Poseidon's large tail, correcting him.
Then he dropped the little fox, who was rolling its eyes, to the ground, gazed at the sky which was just showing a hint of dawn, and turned to the side to begin his boxing practice.
Above the world, there are myriad methods of foundation-building.
Zheng Qing's foundation-building method was the guidance technique taught to him by his teacher when he was young.
This set of movements resembled a boxing style, but it wasn't continuous. Each stance and move, while not rigid, didn't give one the feeling of flowing like clouds and water, or being perfectly smooth.
Zheng Qing had once asked his teacher the name of this guidance technique.
His teacher replied very simply: "No Fist."
What did "No Fist" mean? Did it mean the boxing style wasn't ancient enough? Or not grand enough? Or that it wasn't a boxing style at all? Zheng Qing never quite understood, only feeling that this set of movements, like his teacher, was profound and unfathomable.
After a few rounds of movements, Zheng Qing gradually felt the dormant power deep within his body gradually awaken and become active, flowing along his meridians and Bloodline.
In just a moment, he felt his entire body enveloped in a warm Qi. He quickly became immersed in it, oblivious to everything, not thinking or pondering, letting the Qi flow naturally, and naturally walking the Dao.
Not far away, Poseidon also stood on its hind legs in a proper manner, arching its back, bending its waist, extending its claws, wagging its tail, and making various incomprehensible movements.
Its pink nose occasionally wrinkled in the cool air, looking very serious.
Xiao Xiao sat on the bluestone under the tree, quietly breathing and exhaling, facing the morning sun.
The Old Turtle with the reddish-brown shell had crawled to his side at some point, extending its head, half-opening its eyes, motionless, just like the stubborn stone beneath him.
Further away.
On the wide lawn, under thick trees, by the tranquil silver Lake.
Students gathered in groups of three or five, taking advantage of the morning vigor, quietly yet enthusiastically doing their morning exercises.
Gradually, the sky grew brighter and brighter.
The crimson morning sun struggled to break free on the horizon, just a sliver away from escaping its constraints.
Zheng Qing seemed to sense something, turned to face the morning sun, calmed his Qi and focused his mind, slightly clasped his fists, exhaled a long breath of turbid Qi, and with a clear voice from his tongue, let out a long "Duō" sound.
At the same time, Xiao Xiao under the tree opened his eyes wide, puffed out his chest, and let out a clear roar from his throat.
Other students doing morning practice around them also exhaled and made sounds.
For a moment, clear sounds, heavy sounds, and various exhalations resonated with each other, shaking the campus in the morning, echoing through the sky, and dispersing the surrounding clouds.
The rising heat billowed, wantonly displaying its vigor and vitality.
In the distance, on the mountaintop, beneath the tower.
Several Old Professors in black robes were gathered together, saying something.
Hearing the shouts that vibrated all around, they couldn't help but laugh heartily.
"Drinking the morning glow at sunrise, and feasting on the evening splendor under the moon," a lean and vigorous Old Professor twirled his short, snowflake-white beard, pointing and laughing, "Their hard work is not in vain of our toil."
"The vigor of youth," another short, plump Old Professor shook his head and sighed with emotion.
"Yet, who knows if it's vigor that makes the young, or the young that make vigor?" The last tall Old Professor, seemingly sensing something, sighed deeply.
