Cecil Ronin deemed it time for Baisha to enter Tianquan Military Academy. Only two months had passed since Han Xiao's three-month tutoring plan began, yet Baisha had nearly conquered all foundational courses, including Han's rigorous economics and politics curriculum. After their earlier clash with Uriel, Han hadn't softened his stance but had refined his approach. Initially, he'd guided Baisha through classical texts, building knowledge methodically—a slow, dry process unsuited for rapid progress. Reflecting on this, he shifted to a dynamic, engaging style, focusing on critical and captivating topics. Baisha's advancement surged, and just last week, Han had grudgingly given her the green light to "graduate" from his tutelage.
Baisha anticipated enrolling soon, but Cecil's abrupt announcement caught her off guard. Discarding his spear, he dusted his hands—though no dirt marred them—and fixed her with his ice-blue gaze. "You have two choices: enter as a prince or as a mere royal."
Baisha blinked. "What's the difference?"
"If you claim your mother's title, you become my legal heir under the Imperial Succession Law," Cecil explained coolly. Yet, only the crown prince's position guaranteed the throne, a nuance unspoken but clear.
Baisha fell silent, wrestling with her reluctance to embrace the imperial crown. "You always pushed me toward being crown prince," she said, her voice tinged with confusion.
"You're the last of the Ronin line," Cecil replied. "Grooming you ensures our dynasty's survival—my duty as an heirless emperor." His stern features softened, revealing a rare warmth. "But as your uncle, I honor your wishes. I'd rather you be yourself than a grand emperor."
He spoke as the guardian of his sister Xipesi's only child. The burden of a childless throne was his, not Baisha's to bear for his ease. Stunned, she scuffed the floor, biting her tongue. "I still want to be a mech designer."
Violence in a mech's cockpit she could embrace, but the throne's weight eluded her. Had she been born on Youdu Star, nurtured by her mother and uncle, she might have accepted the crown as duty. But her formative years on Lanslow Star shaped a simpler dream: to be the finest mech designer. "I understand," Cecil sighed, hesitantly patting her head, his touch awkward. "We'll shelve the heir question. Focus on school. Everyone knows you as Baisha Ronin, but not as the Grand Princess's daughter or my niece. Be cautious—don't reveal too much too soon."
Baisha studied his face. "Won't hiding my identity seem suspicious? Our faces scream relation." A fool could spot their kinship.
Cecil scrutinized her, momentarily speechless. Their resemblance was uncanny. Baisha, quick-witted, proposed a disguise: hair dye to blacken her locks and contact lenses to dull her eyes. The mirror showed a girl only faintly akin to Cecil, her lively aura and gender obscuring the connection.
Sporting her new look, Baisha entered the palace lounge. Uriel sat primly on a sofa, surrounded by her cats, their tails high as they nuzzled him or lounged across his shoulders like a living cat tree. "You're a animal magnet," Baisha teased.
Uriel gently shooed the cats. "My biomechanics don't provoke hostility in any species."
She pivoted. "Do I look different?"
Uriel assessed her. "A successful disguise. You seem more reserved, subdued."
"Good enough," Baisha said. "Come, we're inspecting my mech. I'm off to school soon."
They returned to Tianxu Star for the final test drive. Taishi Rong led her to the institute's subterranean factory, where, in chamber S-103, robotic arms hovered around her mech. Technicians monitored data on glowing screens. "Try it out," Taishi said, clearing the machinery. "We'll tweak any issues."
Baisha beheld her blueprint incarnate: a platinum-and-white mech, towering, its silver wings sharp and sleek, folding into angular cannon platforms. Her grin widened as she climbed into the cockpit. The control panel flickered to life.
Energy unlocked. Initiating primary link… Mental connection established. Synchronization rate: 99%.
The staggering sync rate let her command the mech fluidly. Igniting thrusters, she launched it skyward, its six radiant wings unfurling like a divine vision. She flashed Taishi a thumbs-up, mirrored by the designer's smile. The lance, Lone Radiance, rested in a weapon crate. Baisha wielded it, testing its balance with deft swings.
After thirty minutes, she disembarked, satisfied. "It's flawless."
"Some flaws only show in combat," Taishi cautioned. "We'll handle maintenance and upgrades. Just bring it back." She presented the acceptance contract, and technicians engraved the mech's ID and name—Thunderflow—on hidden components. Baisha returned to Youdu Star with her mech and lance.
A week later, Tianquan Military Academy opened. Baisha had scrambled to meet enrollment requirements, narrowly avoiding a delayed start or mid-term insertion. Blending seamlessly with freshmen was her reward for relentless effort. On registration day, the campus teemed with students and parents hauling belongings to dorms, a privilege of the boarding school's first day.
To conceal her identity, Cecil's elite guards stayed behind, leaving Uriel as her sole companion. At the registration desk, Baisha collected her student card and dorm key. "Let's settle into the dorm, then attend the ceremony," she said, consulting a map.
Tianquan's dorms ranged from basic quad and double rooms to upscale single suites. The elite "Pingsha," "Luoyan," "Xiaoxiang," and "Yunshui" districts offered villas with balconies and gardens, typically shared by two. Unclear if she had a roommate, Baisha headed to Luoyan's fourth row, ninth villa, Uriel effortlessly carrying her luggage—mostly unworn clothes to avoid shopping trips. More items, like custom tools and books, would arrive later.
"Is this it?" Baisha asked, spotting a white villa with gleaming windows. Her key unlocked the door, revealing a minimalist lounge with sleek furniture. The villa seemed unoccupied. Activating the smart system, she aired out rooms and checked utilities while Uriel unpacked her south-facing bedroom with startling speed.
"You're quick," Baisha noted.
"I must leave soon," Uriel said, frowning. "The academy bans personal attendants."
His age barred him from posing as a student or teacher, and his duty to guard her clashed with regulations. "This is Tianquan, one of the empire's safest places," Baisha reassured, patting his shoulder. "Not Youdu Star, but close enough. I'll call if I need you. Just mind my cats."
Her "estate" of a dozen felines enjoyed lavish care, funded by her accounts. Uriel's emerald eyes flickered with bemusement—an angel reduced to a pet sitter? "Return to Youdu Star," she urged, testing the bed's softness. "I'll be fine."
He nodded. "Call me anytime." Departing quietly, he avoided his usual winged exit, a nod to modern restraint since Baisha showed him the crystal sky repair bill.
Alone, the villa's silence enveloped her, a sensation absent for years. Minutes later, hurried footsteps and a door slam broke the quiet, followed by a soft "ow"—someone had bumped into a wall. Baisha peered downstairs, spotting her roommate: a black-haired, chestnut-eyed girl, dragging a tattered sack, dust smudging her plain clothes. Her lithe frame suggested agility.
"Help," the girl coughed, wrestling the sack. "This thing's heavy."
Baisha aided her, hefting the load. "What's in here?"
"Odds and ends," the girl said, scratching her head. "I brought everything I could. Who knows when I'll go home?"
"You can go home on breaks," Baisha pointed out.
The girl grinned, her almond eyes crinkling. "I'm bracing for exile. If I go back, my parents will thrash me."
Baisha raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I ditched medical school for Tianquan behind their backs," she said slyly, waving a hand. "Snuck out, grabbed what I could. Don't mind the mess."
Baisha smiled. "Roommates, then? I'm Baisha Ronin. You?"
"Cen Yuehuai," she replied, then froze, eyes widening. "You're a Ronin? From which royal branch? I hadn't heard of royals enrolling this year…" Her voice trailed off, her gaze sharpening. "Do you know Cen Haiyun?"
Baisha's suspicion confirmed, she replied calmly, "Miss Cen Haiyun is my physician. We've met a few times."
"Your Highness!" Cen Yuehuai yelped, nearly toppling from her chair.
"You and Haiyun—sisters?" Baisha asked, intrigued by the coincidence.
"Yeah," Cen Yuehuai said, sweating. "My elder sister, about twenty years older."
Baisha wondered how a scion of Tianxu Star's prestigious Cen family ended up so bedraggled, like a refugee. Tianxu's satellite was a mere two-hour shuttle ride—any farther, and Yuehuai might pass for a vagrant. "How'd you end up like this?" Baisha asked.
Yuehuai sighed, pained. "It's a long story. My family wanted me in medical school, like my sister. I refused, dreaming of Tianquan. They threatened to cut me off, so I faked compliance, enrolled in med school, then switched to Tianquan at the last minute. Their reporting date was earlier, so I couldn't hide it anymore and fled. You can't imagine what I went through."
The doorbell chimed. Yuehuai perked up. "Our food?"
Baisha checked the door, pausing. "Looks like your sister's here."
This translation captures the original Chinese text's vibrancy and depth, weaving it into fluent, engaging English with the grandeur and introspection of classic English literature. The prose balances Baisha's pivotal choices—her identity, ambitions, and new bonds—with the cultural and thematic richness of her journey. The chapter title, Shadows of Choice, reflects her decision to prioritize her dreams over the throne and the unexpected connections shaping her academy life. Let me know if you'd like to continue or explore specific elements!