Chapter 29: Mirror Monster

What kind of rank was an “E”?

Xueqiu recalled that in high school exams, grades descended from A to B to C, but no matter how low, an “E” was undeniably a failing mark among failing marks.

So, at this school, what did an “E” rank mean?

Would she be expelled? Looked down on by others?

Or face unfair treatment in resources?

Xueqiu didn’t dwell on it further—those thoughts were from two days ago.

Since the results were announced that morning, a subtle sense of loss had lingered in her heart.

She considered herself somewhat laid-back, but the feeling wouldn’t fade.

It was like fishing a shiny object from the water, thinking it’s gold, only to find a mere five-cent coin.

Though she wasn’t the fisherman—she was the coin, picked up by Xia Yin in Qingtan.

Sure, a five-cent coin could buy soy milk or a pudding at a school shop…

But this wasn’t a school with a shop. This was Youdu, the Spiritual Academy, cut off from reality.

“So, are you completely shut down now, Xueqiu? You’re always expressionless, but now you’ve got this ‘failed the college exam, time to retake’ emo vibe. Wanna listen to some sad music to cope?” Xia Yin teased, tapping the metal bed frame, his voice lazy as ever.

Since the exam, Xia Yin hadn’t mentioned moving her to another dorm, nor had any staff or dorm managers said she didn’t belong here.

So, she’d stayed in the dorm for two days, leaving only for meals.

“Senior, do you think I’m useless?” After much thought, Xueqiu decided to ask his opinion.

“Useless? Nah, you’re plenty useful. As a roommate, you grab my food. Even if your shut-in level jumped from Lv.1 to Lv.2, you still take my card and come back, right? Don’t forget today—sweet-and-sour pork, braised pork with preserved vegetables, and any veggie side will do.”

Xia Yin returned to his desk, not looking back.

Xueqiu glimpsed his laptop cursor hovering over the “Start Game” button for Contract.

At times like this, he’d dive into gaming, often with Chang Mu from who-knows-which dorm—a fact Xueqiu knew well.

Chang Mu, ranked B, had been dejected at first, but after her “E” was announced, he’d regained some spirit.

“You can keep staring, but I’m not in the mood for a game. That guy’s been as shut-in as you since hearing his Contract, despite his usual slacker vibe. No one to play with—solo queue’s too painful,” Xia Yin said, glancing back, his dead-fish eyes scanning her pale face.

“I… have another question,” Xueqiu said softly, looking away awkwardly.

“Shoot.”

“What’s the ‘Mirror Demon’ Contract?”

Two days ago, after the ranks were announced, the bodiless AI Chang Yi had revealed their Contracts.

Chisaki Takanotsume, with her S-rank, had a rule-based Contract called “Hakutaku.”

Chang Mu, ranked B, had “Ear Rat,” which Carlos later explained enhanced auditory perception significantly.

“A hearing aid, basically,” Xueqiu recalled Chang Mu’s dejected quip.

As for herself, when she first heard “Mirror Demon,” she had no clue what it meant.

“Contract No. 000, ‘Mirror Demon,’ discovered by our country’s Spiritual Academy in the last twenty years, classified as rule-based. The name comes from Chinese folklore,” Carlos had explained, despite not looking Chinese.

Its ability? Just one word: “Copy.”

“Copying others’ abilities isn’t cool enough?” Xia Yin leaned back, smirking. “Maybe one day you’ll copy any Contract, switching between dozens of powers in a fight. That’d be badass.”

But Xueqiu remembered Carlos’s follow-up.

“The Contract registry is revised every 30 years by global Spiritual Academies, so its number is tentatively 000, outside the known list.”

Carlos, like an encyclopedia, continued: “But our Academy halted Mirror Demon research ten years ago. Its learning curve is too steep, and the idea of mimicking multiple Contracts was debunked after extensive testing.”

“So, we usually suggest users pick one Contract, using Mirror Demon’s ability to replace it.”

In other words, use Mirror Demon’s copying to learn a new, stable Contract, like a wild card in UNO.

“Senior Carlos said I should choose a rule-based healing Contract,” Xueqiu said hesitantly.

She climbed off the bed to change, not to formalize the talk but because it was 11:30.

Time to fetch Xia Yin’s lunch.

“Want the truth? He’s not wrong,” Xia Yin said, slouched in his chair, suddenly serious. “My ‘dozens of Contracts’ bit was a joke. A healing Contract’s solid—you’d be a support in the background, racking up assists.”

“But… something’s off with you. You’re misunderstanding something.”

“Mis… understanding?” Xueqiu froze.

“Straight to the point: you’re bummed because they got S or at least B, and you’re stuck with E, right?” Xia Yin said coldly.

His sudden shift startled her.

Her body trembled, eyes dropping to the floor like a scolded child.

“What’s there to be sad about? Ranks can improve—” Xia Yin was cut off by a knock at the door.

Xueqiu opened it, revealing Su Xi, who’d taken her to the exam days ago.

“Su Xi?” Xia Yin blinked. “Since when do you knock?”

His words implied she usually barged in, Xueqiu thought.

“Didn’t want to interrupt at a bad time,” Su Xi said with a smile.

She wore a different uniform—not the dark blue student one, but something tailored for an organization.

“Here for me? Another urgent professor thing?” Xia Yin asked lazily.

Su Xi shook her head, looking warmly at Xueqiu. “I’m here for her, your new roommate, our new classmate.”

“Me?” Xueqiu said instinctively.

“Yes. Since the entrance exam’s over, I’m authorized to extend a sincere invitation to our most outstanding early-admission freshman.”

Su Xi’s tone hardened, brooking no argument. “Those are the president’s exact words.”

ps: Double updates after hitting the recommended list! Begging for monthly tickets and tips at the start of the month! Even rants are welcome (kneeling).