Chapter 48: Admonition

When the sun rose close to eleven o’clock, Lulumia sat down across from Xinleira right on time.

Now, coming here felt as natural as visiting her own home. Even the librarians remembered her—a rather unusual magic automaton—everyone knew that Lulumia had become the Fourth Princess’s assistant. Thanks to this, whenever she entered the library, both teachers and students would smile and nod in greeting.

The Academy was far more comfortable than the Church, Lulumia couldn’t help but think. The Church was filled with clergy and nobles, and there were also Yinuo’s rivals, so she had to watch every word she spoke. By comparison, life at the Academy was downright relaxing.

True, the Academy was a microcosm of society, but those who seriously pursued scholarship didn’t have such complex power struggles as the Church. She didn’t have to constantly worry about how others viewed her.

Thanks to Xinleira, she’d managed to reverse some of her terrible reputation. Lulumia happily picked up her homework notebook to start grading. She just regretted that she hadn’t attended class for so long—she wasn’t sure how things were going with her classmates.

But to those upperclassmen who came to hand in their assignments, she must seem like a savior.

She’d have to find a chance to wrangle a meal out of them.

“You seem very happy.”

Xinleira spoke coolly. Today she wore her usual straight bangs and black hair, matched with a deep red ceremonial dress. Lulumia wondered if Xinleira ever changed her clothes at all.

Lulumia’s eyes widened. “Not at all.”

“No? Then what’s this?” Xinleira pointed beneath the table with her index finger.

Only then did Lulumia realize that she’d unconsciously been swinging her small, white, over-the-knee sock-clad legs. The library’s chairs were too high, and she was too short—her feet didn’t touch the ground.

She must have been swinging them so much that it bothered Xinleira. Embarrassed, Lulumia scratched her head.

“Hehehe… sorry.”

“If you’re this noisy again, don’t come back next time.” Xinleira’s words were as sharp as ever.

With that rotten temper, she’ll never get married, Lulumia thought with a little huff. Whoever marries Xinleira is doomed to be henpecked for life—must be bad karma.

Lulumia carefully tucked away her cheerfulness and began grading the students’ homework in earnest. But not long after, Xinleira suddenly spoke again.

“Didn’t you always come in the afternoon? How come you’re here in the morning today?” “Because I missed you—uh, just kidding, just kidding.”

Lulumia quickly raised her hands in surrender, cold sweat beading on her forehead. Because only a foot from her eyes, a jet-black arrow hovered in midair, its sharpness making her skin crawl. It felt like if she made one wrong move, the arrow would take her life.

She hurried to change the subject, forcing an awkward smile.

“A-actually, I just had some business at the Academy today…”“Don’t let there be a next time.”

Xinleira’s icy voice cut her off, and the black arrow vanished from in front of Lulumia’s forehead.

No incantation at all… Truly a magical genius of the Theran Empire…

But I’m just a child, not some guy her age—did she really have to react so fiercely?

Muttering internally, Lulumia lowered her head in shock.

In truth, she’d lied. She didn’t actually have any business at the Academy; she’d deliberately timed her visit for lunch. That way, once she finished grading assignments, Xinleira would go eat, and she’d be free to do her own things.

Grading the homework only took a short while. If she came in the afternoon and Xinleira got caught up in her reading, she’d have to sit in the library all afternoon. At noon, it was just from eleven to one at most; in the afternoon, she’d be stuck from three until sunset at six.

With the newspaper office about to be established, she couldn’t just idle her afternoons away anymore. That time had to be devoted to work. The Ink was almost ready, just a little more to go.

About half an hour passed in the quiet of turning pages before Xinleira finally closed her book. She seemed in a rare good mood, not wearing her usual cold expression.

“How’s your newspaper office going? I haven’t heard anything about it.”

“Still making the final adjustments—just missing a location and staff.” “Oh? Is there a problem with the printing press?” Xinleira arched her elegant brows.

“No problem. I made improvements to the Ink and the type,” Lulumia replied as she continued grading. “Wood Type wears out too easily; we need to switch to metal type. And the original Ink isn’t suitable for printing, so I had to use a stronger, more adhesive type.”

“By the way,” Lulumia suddenly looked up seriously, “the newspaper needs a name, something like the ‘Ounheim News’ or the ‘Holy News’. Your Highness, do you have any ideas? The newspaper office too—it needs a bold name and a logo.”

“None,” Xinleira answered bluntly.

“But you’re funding it, Your Highness. You should name it.”

“Name it however you want. I have only one condition: you can’t put anything related to me in the paper’s name, and don’t write about me in the paper. I don’t need publicity.”

Xinleira stood up, her tone still indifferent.

“And another thing—I need to remind you. Try not to wander around alone so boldly. Your dragon horns and tail are too conspicuous. With your current abilities, you can’t protect yourself.”

What did that mean?

Was she hinting at some danger? But what kind? Was it because her dragon horns and tail were real and too valuable?

Lulumia didn’t grasp the deeper meaning. She wanted to ask, but Xinleira clearly had no intention of explaining. She was already heading downstairs, book in hand.

How baffling…

Lulumia tried to appear unconcerned, but anxiety had already taken root in her heart.

Thinking it over, she realized she’d been too trusting of the world’s public security. Almost everyone who saw her dragon horns would ask if they were real, which showed just how rare they were. Walking around with something so valuable was like strolling down the street with hundreds of thousands in cash, flaunting her wealth and inviting trouble. Sooner or later, someone would target her.

She raised her hands and felt the two irregular dragon horns on her head. The horns seemed fused to her skull; when she tapped them, her brain buzzed like a tuning fork.

Getting these sawed off would not be fun…

She’d better be careful from now on.

She engraved Xinleira’s warning in her mind. Uneasy, Lulumia finished grading and headed for the Academy cafeteria.

The food at Saint Istel Academy was far better than what the nuns ate at the Church.

But to Lulumia’s surprise, as soon as she sat down with her meal, several shadows appeared beside her.

The first was Lijie, who had arrived at the cafeteria early. Maybe she’d just finished a practical class—Lijie had taken off her jacket, and the hair on her forehead was soaked with sweat.

“What brings the young lady to see us?” Lijie teased as soon as she sat down.

Lulumia made a helpless face. “Lijie-jie, don’t make fun of me. I haven’t come in ages, so I made a special trip to see you.”

“The Holy Son’s magic automaton came all this way just to see me? I’m not sure I’m up to the task,” Lijie continued to tease, but her smile grew even happier. She was pleased that Lulumia hadn’t forgotten her, even after making something of herself.

“So, you’re done with your Church work and plan to come back to class? I heard from people in your class that you haven’t been to lessons in over half a month. Whether you can keep up is one thing, but if you anger the teachers and get expelled, that’s trouble.”

“Expelled, huh…”

Like I have that much time for classes. I need to stay alive first.

Lulumia sighed. “The newspaper office isn’t up yet. I’ll need a while longer before I have any free time.” “Newspaper office? What’s that? Mia, are you going to have your own workshop?”

That question again. Lulumia couldn’t even remember how many times she’d explained it. She put down the wooden spoon she’d been biting and nodded.

“That’s pretty much it. I’ll need lots of people when the time comes.” “No wonder you asked me to contact Student Work-Study students earlier—you’re opening a workshop…”

“Is this reliable? What kind of work will it be? Will it be embarrassing?” A male student Lulumia didn’t recognize suddenly asked. After hesitating, he went on, “If it’s just wiping tables and pouring tea, I’m out. My family sent me to the Academy to achieve something, and if they hear I’ve been sweeping floors for others, I’ll have no face to go home.”

“Don’t worry, let’s hear what Mia has to say first.” Lijie soothed the boy, then explained to Lulumia, “When you asked me to look for students interested in Student Work-Study, I specifically picked out a few willing ones whose families live far from the capital and who board in the dormitories. I think they’re reliable—he’s one of them.”

Lulumia looked the boy up and down. He was a bit frail and scholarly, definitely not suited for heavy labor.

That was how most students were. Unless they were truly desperate for money, few would take on work that exposed them in the Academy—they were afraid of being seen by classmates.

“It’s not just pouring tea—it’s dignified, respectable work. The only question is whether you can stick with it.” “There’s no work that isn’t tiring. We’re all from poor families—who hasn’t chopped wood or gleaned wheat at home? I only fear there’s no money, not that the work will be hard.”

Another, sturdier-looking boy chimed in. He seemed to be one of the Student Work-Study students, and his dark skin gave his words extra credibility.

This boy is good, Lulumia thought with a silent nod. He’s courageous, unafraid of hard work, and speaks well—he has sales potential. Worth keeping an eye on.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re all from poor families. As long as there’s work, we’re not afraid of hardship.” “It’s better than chewing black bread while smelling the nobles’ roast meat.” “So what exactly will we be doing?”