"Oh, I suppose we should get a move on then," Gao said, his arm slipping away from Lingqi's shoulders like the last remnants of warmth on a cold morning.

The library loomed ahead and they entered, the scent of parchment and ink heavy in the air.

Two students awaited them—Chen Xiu, the portly beacon of levity in the academy's routine, and Yi Ming, the lanky, awkward figure who seldom graced their gatherings. The group settled into the seats prepared for them, their presence a ripple in the library's stillness.

Master Zhang stood at the forefront, a sentinel before an oversized map pinned to a large board. Lingqi recognized it instantly—the Jade Sovereignty and its sprawling provinces, a tapestry of their heritage.

"Welcome, class. I trust your morning meditations went well," Master Zhang greeted, his brown robes whispering as he stepped forward, hands concealed within his sleeves.

"Yes, Master Zhang," the class responded in practiced unison.

"Good, good. Today, we revisit our history. We shall recount the origins of the Jade Sovereignty," Zhang intoned, turning to gesture at the map behind him.

"This," he said, pointing to the capital city of Huadu, "is the cradle of our ancestors, the birthplace of our Sovereignty. Here, in Huadu, the tenets of our peace were forged from the fires of conflict." Zhang's voice resonated within the library.

"Now, Li Bie, which province was the first to sign the treaty?" Zhang's gaze fell upon his senior pupil, a challenge in his eyes.

"The province of Jing, Master Zhang," Li Bie replied, his voice steady.

"Correct. The people of Jing, weary of endless strife, were the first to embrace the Sovereignty's promise of peace. Flocks of hopefuls surged into Huadu, seeking refuge and renewal. Thus, the city flourished," Zhang continued, his words painting a vivid picture of hope and transformation.

A new generation of leaders emerged, visionaries who heeded their people's cries for peace. The Jade Sovereignty was born from their resolve, and the Opal Palace stood as a beacon of their commitment to harmony," Master Zhang concluded, his voice a thread of wisdom weaving through the air.

Lingqi listened, his heart echoing the familiar tale. Yet, questions lingered, gnawing at the edges of his mind.

"What about the Khalkans?" he asked, his voice slicing through the silence, drawing the curious eyes of his peers. "How long have they been... a problem for the Sovereignty?"

"Ah, an excellent question, young Lingqi," Zhang said, nodding appreciatively. "The Khalkans are a nomadic people, their culture steeped in war and conflict. They roam the hills of the southern province of Chen, ever at odds with our quest for peace."

Lingqi's mind flashed back to the raid on his village, the visceral memories of blood, screams, and terror still fresh and raw. "But what if they attack again?" His hands were clasped together tightly. "Shouldn't we fight back?"

"Lingqi, the Sovereignty does not seek conflict. Remember our tenets: Conflict breeds despair. To choose war is to repeat the mistakes of our ancestors. Peace is the only path to a brighter future," Master Zhang's voice was firm, yet compassionate, each word a balm for Lingqi's troubled soul.

Lingqi sat there, the weight of his past pressing down on him. He wanted to believe in peace, but the scars of his memories were too deep. He chewed on his bottom lip, wanting to rebuttal, but no words came.

"I know it may be hard to understand now, but one day you will see that there is always another way," Master Zhang's words lingered in the air, a promise of hope.

Lingqi bowed his head, his emotions a tumultuous sea. Fear gripped him—the fear that the Sovereignty's ideals were a fragile shield against the relentless tide of violence.

Master Zhang cleared his throat, steering the class back to the lesson. Lingqi felt the eyes of his peers upon him, their curiosity a palpable force. A gentle hand on his shoulder drew his attention—Yuyan, her hazel eyes filled with concern.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, her voice a soft anchor in his storm.

"I'm fine," Lingqi insisted, turning away, his voice betraying his turmoil.

"Do you want to go outside and get some fresh air?" Yuyan's suggestion was a lifeline.

"I said I'm fine," Lingqi muttered, his tone sharper than intended. Yet, she didn't flinch, her frown a silent testament to her understanding.

Yuyan gave his shoulder a gentle pat before turning back to the lesson. Lingqi tried to follow suit, but his mind was adrift.

The rest of the lecture passed in a blur, Master Zhang's words a distant echo. The class was finally dismissed, and Lingqi followed his peers out, his thoughts a maelstrom. "Hey," Yuyan called, jogging to his side. "Are you sure you're okay?"

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"No," Lingqi admitted, his shoulders slumping. "I'm just...thinking. About everything that's happened. What Master Zhang said—it didn't sound right. If the Khalkans hurt people, shouldn't we make them pay?"

Yuyan pondered his words, her expression thoughtful. Lingqi had kept his pain hidden for so long, and she realized now how deeply it still cut him. "I don't know. Maybe you're right, but...you know the tenets. Violence only leads to more violence. We should trust in Master Zhang. If he says there's a better way, then maybe we should believe him."

"Yeah, but...it just doesn't seem right. Maybe it's because I'm still hurting," Lingqi said, rubbing his arm.

Yuyan stepped closer, her hand a comforting presence on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I know you've been through a lot. I can't imagine what it must have been like, to see your whole village...well, you know," she faltered, struggling to find the right words.

"Thanks. I appreciate it," Lingqi managed a weak smile.

"Look, if you ever want to talk, I'm here. Don't shut us out," Yuyan said, her sincerity a balm to Lingqi's wounded heart.

"Us?"

"You know what I mean. Me, Li Bie, Gao—everyone. We're here for you, Lingqi. That's what friends are for," Yuyan's words brought a flicker of warmth to Lingqi's chest.

"Right," he nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thanks, Yuyan."

"Don't mention it. Now, come on, I'm starving. Let's get some lunch," Yuyan wrapped an arm around Lingqi's shoulders, leading him towards the dining hall.

They arrived, the aroma of food filling the air. Gao was at the serving counter, distributing portions of fish and rice—a staple in Huadu. Lingqi and Yuyan joined the other students, settling into their seats.

"Ugh, I hate fish," Chen whined, poking at his bowl.

"Deal with it," Gao retorted, taking a bite.

Chen grumbled, his dissatisfaction evident. "I prefer real meat, like boar or pig."

"Don't be such a baby," Yuyan teased.

"Whatever," Chen muttered, still poking at his food. "I guess I just have refined tastes."

"Anyways," Li Bie cut in, seeking to change the topic. Chen could drone on for hours complaining about food if they let him. "How are you doing, Lingqi?" Li Bie asked, redirecting the conversation.

"Me?" Lingqi was caught off guard as he fiddled with his meal.

"Yeah, you. Are you homesick yet?" Li Bie continued.

Lingqi winced internally. Only Yuyan knew his true circumstances. "Oh, I—"

"I haven't been home in a while, and I do miss Jing sometimes," Yuyan interjected, saving him.

"Isn't there an academy in Jing?" Lingqi seized the diversion. "Why did your parents send you here?"

"I wouldn't have fit in with the students there. Too pompous. Can you imagine a school full of Gaos?" Yuyan joked, eliciting laughter.

"Hey, watch it," Gao warned, smiling.

"Elder Zhu is friends with my grandfather. They both recommended I come here," Yuyan continued.

"And you, Li Bie? Where are you from?" Lingqi asked.

Li Bie fiddled with his food. "My family lives in Yan to the East. My parents want me to become a diplomat, so they sent me here for the best training."

"Wow, your family must be important," Lingqi marveled.

"I suppose," Li Bie said, rubbing his neck. "But I just want to help people. Titles don't matter to me."

"Such a saint," Yuyan teased.

"Yeah, yeah," Li Bie chuckled.

"And you, Chen?" Lingqi turned to the plump boy.

"My family lives in Huadu. My dad wants me to take over his business, so he sent me here to learn discipline and respect," Chen grumbled.

"Discipline, huh?" Li Bie joked.

"Quiet. And don't forget us when you're a big shot diplomat," Chen retorted, examining a piece of his fish.

"I won't," Li Bie assured him. "We're all in this together."

"Yeah, yeah," Chen mumbled, returning to his food.

"Do you visit your grandmother, Gao?" Lingqi asked.

"I used to," Gao answered with a shrug. "But nowadays I just send her a letter. It's pretty expensive to go back and forth from the capital to Chang."

"Is that where she lives?" Lingqi asked.

"Yea, way out to the west. That's our family's ancestral home," said Gao.

Lingqi couldn't help but marvel at the thought of having familial ties to a province. By comparison, lands to the south were disjointed.

The southern province of Chen was splintered into small villages and towns that operated on their own accord, perhaps in part due to their distance from the capital and their close proximity to the Khalkan tribes. From what Lingqi's father had told him, he and his mother traveled from village to village before settling down in his birth home.

"Alright, let's talk about something fun," Chen said, leaning forward. "Like Cuju."

"Want to play?" Li Bie asked, smirking.

"One on one, first to three," Chen challenged.

"Deal," Li Bie accepted, standing.

"I'm in," Gao added, rising with a grin.

"Me too!" Yuyan exclaimed.

"Wait, I want to play too," Lingqi interjected.

"Sure, let's go."

Lingqi finished the last few bites of his food with a sense of urgency. He hurried to follow the others out of the dining hall and towards the academy courtyard, where the sun, now past its zenith, cast harsh shadows and illuminated the dusty ground beneath their feet.

Chen retrieved the ball from the equipment shed—a small, worn leather sphere that had seen countless games—and kicked it with a precise motion toward Li Bie, who caught it effortlessly, his movements fluid and practiced.

"So, how do we decide the matchups?" Yuyan mused, her finger tapping her chin thoughtfully, eyes narrowing in calculation.

"Simple," Chen declared, his voice carrying a confident edge. "Li Bie and Gao are the oldest; they should face each other first. The winner goes against Yuyan, and then the victor of that match takes on Lingqi. The ultimate winner is the champion." His strategy was laid out with a smug smile, one that dared anyone to challenge his plan.

"What's the matter, Chen? Afraid you might lose?" Li Bie taunted, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Please," Chen scoffed, dismissive and assured. "I'll beat you easily and then take down Yuyan."

"Oh? We'll see about that," Li Bie shot back, juggling the ball with his foot.

"I think Lingqi should go against Chen first," Yuyan interjected, arms folded across her chest, her tone decisive. "It's fair since Lingqi is the newest, and Chen is...well, Chen. Then the winner can face me, their senior."

"Hey, I'm right here," Chen protested, though his complaint lacked real heat.

"Sounds good to me," Gao agreed, nodding his head in approval.

"Alright, fine," Chen conceded with a wave of his arm.

"Okay, so it's decided," Li Bie clapped his hands together, signaling the start. "Lingqi, Chen, you're up first."

"Good luck, Lingqi," Yuyan called out, her encouragement sincere.

"Just give it your best shot," Li Bie added, placing a reassuring hand on Lingqi's shoulder, his eyes conveying a mix of challenge and support.

"Right," Lingqi nodded, swallowing his nervousness.

Li Bie stepped back, giving the two players room to start.

"Ready, Chen?" Lingqi asked, trying to steady his voice.

"Are you? Remember, no mercy," Chen warned, his eyes gleaming with competitive fire.

"Right," Lingqi repeated, his voice firmer, attempting to project confidence.

"Go!" Li Bie called out, marking the start of their contest.