Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

"And you?" Caesar flicked the ash from his cigarette, his voice calm and unreadable. "If you were to have a wedding like this in the future?"

Nono tilted her head, looked at the crescent moon in the sky, thought about it seriously for a moment, and then answered, "Me? I don't have many requirements. As long as it's fun, that's fine."

"Fun?" Caesar raised an eyebrow, not surprised by the answer, but wanting to hear more details.

“Yeah,” Nono jumped off the pedestal, walked up to him, put her hands behind her back, and looked up at him. “For example, instead of those cookie-cutter church vows, listening to the priest recite ancient vows I can’t even understand. Maybe in a hot air balloon? Or rent an amusement park, where all the guests have to ride all the rides to get wedding candy? Or, like today, how about a big-scale themed cosplay wedding, you cosplaying Aslan, and me cosplaying Cagalli? Or the other way around?”

She couldn't help but laugh as she spoke, finding the ideas quite amusing. "Anyway, not too boring, not too formal, preferably something that will give my serious stepfather a fright and leave those old fogies in the Gattuso family speechless—that would be perfect."

Caesar looked into the light dancing in her eyes, brighter than moonlight, more dazzling than starlight. He remained silent for a moment, then stubbed out the last bit of his cigarette in the designated extinguisher on the base of the statue.

"can."

Nono's smile faltered slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across her face. She hadn't expected Caesar to agree so readily. She knew Caesar; while he was certainly proud and self-centered, when it came to family and formal occasions, he also possessed the sense of responsibility befitting Gattuso's heir. What she had just said was more of a playful, dreamlike expression.

"Really?" She blinked. "Even a cosplay wedding? You'd be willing to wear one of those costumes that might look silly?"

"Why not?" Caesar countered, "Since you find it fun."

Nono looked at him, confirming the truth of his words. Then, as if she had thought of something more interesting, she took a step closer and asked, "So, should we also invite Chu Zihang? And Lu Mingfei, and that emotionless girl Zero and Frilline who's with him?"

She specifically mentioned Chu Zihang. Everyone knows that Caesar Gattuso and Chu Zihang are rivals who also deeply respect each other. Inviting Chu Zihang to his wedding?

"Of course we should invite them. Why not?"

This time, Nono was genuinely surprised. She opened her mouth, looking at Caesar, trying to find even a trace of a joke on his face. But she only saw calm and certainty.

"At most, Chu Zihang might not like it, or he might find the process too boring, so he might just smash the axle of our wedding car halfway through."

Nono was stunned.

Caesar looked at her surprised expression, chuckled softly, reached out and gently brushed away a strand of hair that had been ruffled by the wind from Nono's forehead, the gesture natural and intimate.

“If the axle is broken, we’ll just get a new car,” he said, looking into her eyes and emphasizing each word. “Even if all the axles are smashed to pieces, we’ll walk there, or I’ll carry you there, and the wedding will still go on.”

Under the moonlight, Caesar, like an eagle soaring in the sky, locked onto his target.

Chaos? Trouble? Chu Zihang? These factors, which would require serious attention from ordinary people, were merely predictable and easily resolved minor incidents in the fun-filled feast of the wedding for Caesar Gattuso, perhaps even adding to the enjoyment. The wedding he wanted was one she found fun; as for everything else? They were all trivial matters, easily crushed.

Nono looked into Caesar's eyes, which still shone brightly in the night, and her initial surprise slowly faded. She almost laughed, at his arrogance and self-righteousness.

She laughed too, slapped away his hand that was still lingering on her cheek, and snorted, "Easy for you to say. If Chu Zihang really stops you halfway, let's see how you, the groom, will handle it."

“That’s my problem,” Caesar said, withdrawing his hand and putting it in his suit pocket. “You just need to think about how to make the wedding fun enough.”

Chapter 300 The Chrysanthemum and the Sword (Part 1)

The hustle and bustle of the anime festival, like the receding tide, finally subsided completely in the dead of night. For someone like Lu Mingfei, who was exhausted even playing the role of a background NPC on the exhibition stage, the consecutive days of events were nothing short of a blissful torture.

He dragged his body, which felt completely drained, back to his dorm room. He didn't have the energy to complain about Fingel's sprawled-out sleeping posture that took up most of the bed. He practically threw himself into the covers and instantly fell into a deep sleep.

He slept incredibly soundly, without a single dream. Lu Mingfei groggily opened his eyes and was surprised to find that it was already bright outside the window. Sunlight streamed through the gap in the loosely drawn curtains, casting a dazzling golden line on the floor. He reached for the old-fashioned alarm clock on the bedside table, squinted, and saw it was 7:15.

"What the hell?" he muttered, somewhat incredulous. For a seasoned night owl and avid sleeper like him, on mornings without classes and without any life-threatening danger, he usually woke up naturally after the sun was high in the sky. Waking up at seven o'clock like this was a first for him.

He lay in bed, trying to force himself back to sleep. But his brain was like a rebooted computer, unusually awake, utterly unable to feel sleepy. In his ears was Fingel's rhythmic snoring, sometimes long, sometimes short, occasionally interspersed with a few indistinct words in his sleep, sounding like he was muttering, "Pork knuckle, don't run away."

Lu Mingfei rolled over and covered his ears with a pillow, but the sound stubbornly crept in. He tried counting sheep again, and when he reached the hundredth, the sheep suddenly started playing "Gokuraku Jodo" in his mind and even winked at him.

"Oh no, I can't sleep anymore," Lu Mingfei said in despair, sitting up and scratching his messy hair. A wave of boredom washed over him. Was he really going to spend this rare early morning listening to his useless senior brother's snoring and spacing out? That would be such a waste of this first peaceful morning after the anime festival.

Slipping on his slippers, Lu Mingfei wandered aimlessly through the empty campus. The morning air at Kassel College was slightly chilly, fresh and clean. Occasionally, he could see a few students jogging by, full of energy, which only made his aimlessness seem more apparent. As if possessed, he headed towards the building housing the student council. At this hour, perhaps only the student council president, known for his self-discipline and elite status, had begun his day's work.

The student council building was quiet. Lu Mingfei found his way to the small meeting room that Caesar often used; the door was ajar. He peeked inside and, sure enough, saw Caesar Gattuso lounging on the expensive-looking velvet sofa.

Caesar was wearing a simple white shirt, the sleeves casually rolled up to his elbows, revealing his smooth forearms, and he was holding a book in his hand, looking focused.

Lu Mingfei tiptoed closer, thinking that the chairman was indeed extraordinary, studying some profound philosophical works or strategic classics so early in the morning. However, when he saw the title on the book cover, he almost popped his eyes out.

Chrysanthemum and the Sword?

That famous book on Japanese cultural studies? A series of question marks flashed through Lu Mingfei's mind instantly, like a barrage of comments. Why was Caesar reading that book? Studying flower arranging and samurai swords? Or was he preparing to expand into the Japanese market?

"Good morning, Lu Mingfei," Caesar said without looking up, seemingly having sensed his arrival long ago. He simply gave a curt greeting, his gaze remaining fixed on the pages of his book.

"Good morning, President," Lu Mingfei scratched his head, but finally couldn't resist his curiosity and pointed to the book, "Um, are you looking at this?"

Caesar closed the book. "What? Is it strange?"

"A little," Lu Mingfei honestly admitted, "It doesn't quite fit your style."

In his mind, Caesar should be the kind of person who holds a Dictator, stands in front of a map and strategizes, or sits on a luxury yacht, champagne and looking down on everyone else. He really couldn't connect this kind of academic work on culture and national character.

“I’ve recently become somewhat interested in Japan.” Caesar casually placed the book on the coffee table, leaned back, and found a more comfortable position. “A few days ago, I chatted with a student who had just returned from an exchange program at the Japanese branch, and he told me some very interesting stories.”

"The Japanese branch?" Lu Mingfei recalled that the academy did indeed have close cooperation with the Herakiya family in Japan, and exchanging students was a common practice.

“Hmm.” Caesar nodded, a look of reminiscence in his eyes. “That kid wasn’t like this before. Before he left, he was a pretty cheerful, even a bit reckless, B-level specialist, always getting things done in a rush. But when he came back this time, I almost didn’t recognize him.”

Caesar paused, organizing his thoughts, "When he saw me, he almost instinctively bowed at nearly a ninety-degree angle, quickly saying, 'Sir Marseille, sorry to bother President Gattuso.' Throughout the conversation, he kept a slight bow, avoiding eye contact with me for too long, and when answering questions, he kept repeating words like 'Hi,' 'Sir Marseille,' and 'Domo.'"

Lu Mingfei imagined the scene: an elite specialist from Kassel went to Japan for a while and came back looking like a rookie in a Japanese drama. It did seem a bit incongruous.

“I asked him how things were going at the Japanese branch,” Caesar continued. “He was silent for a few seconds, then smiled wryly and said it was a ‘reshaping’ experience. He said that the Japanese branch, or rather the Snake Clan, was permeated with an extremely strong culture of the strong.”

"A culture of the strong?" Lu Mingfei blinked.

“Yes. He told me that there, the hierarchy is strict, and the relationship between superiors and subordinates is clearly defined. The strong possess absolute authority and respect, while the weak are required to obey and revere unconditionally. This strength refers not only to bloodline and combat power, but also to willpower, decisiveness, and even aura.” Caesar tapped the armrest of the sofa lightly with his fingers. “He said that there, you can feel an invisible pressure at any time. When carrying out a mission, if you are not decisive enough, or show the slightest hesitation or cowardice, you will not only be severely reprimanded by your superiors, but even your comrades will cast strange glances at you.”

Caesar frowned slightly, recalling the student's lingering fear: "He gave an example. Once, their squad was on a mission to exterminate 'Deadpools,' that's what they called them. The target was hiding in a complex abandoned factory. He was responsible for developing the initial operation plan, but due to faulty intelligence, the squad was put on the defensive. Although they eventually completed the mission, one member was seriously injured. When they returned, his squad leader, a guy named Ryoma, didn't yell at him. He just looked at him with icy eyes and said in a flat tone: 'Because of your incompetence, your comrades bled. This shame is etched into your soul.'"

"Just that one sentence made him feel like he had fallen into an ice cave, even worse than being scolded. He said that in that environment, bowing and scraping was not just an apology, but a necessary survival skill. It was about showing humility and admitting mistakes in front of the strong to appease the anger of those in power, or at least to hope to lessen the punishment. Bowing and scraping became muscle memory, an instinctive reaction to the power gap."

Lu Mingfei listened, stunned, and couldn't help but think to himself: "Damn, isn't this just a chuunibyou-esque version of social Darwinism?" But then he thought again, this extreme glorification of the strong and clear hierarchy seemed to really appeal to the narcissistic—no, I mean, overconfident—president next to him. Caesar, who always considered himself a born king and an absolute powerhouse, probably gave this kind of culture a hundred and twenty thumbs up in his heart, and couldn't wait to fly to Japan to experience the atmosphere of being the center of attention and respected by everyone.

"That sounds pretty depressing," Lu Mingfei remarked.

“Suppressive?” Caesar raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying. “Perhaps. But undeniably, this kind of environment can indeed temper a person. That student also said that although the process was painful, his six months there significantly improved his combat skills, his control over his own strength, and the tempering of his willpower. It was a kind of growth that was forced to the limit and then had to break through. However, the price was that he brought back some habits that were not quite Kassel.”

Caesar pointed to the book "The Chrysanthemum and the Sword" that he had just put down. "So, I looked it up and tried to understand what kind of cultural environment could produce such an extreme person."

Lu Mingfei thought to himself, "Oh, sure enough, Caesar is doing market research." He suddenly remembered someone and blurted out, "Actually, if you want to learn about the Japanese branch or the Snake Clan, you don't have to just read books. Don't we have exchange students from Japan at our main campus? I think it's the Inuyama family."

"The Inuyama family?" Caesar's interest was piqued, and he leaned forward slightly. "Who is it? I don't recognize the name."

Chapter 301 The Chrysanthemum and the Sword (Part 2)

Kassel College has a large student body, including many members of mixed-race families from all over the world. As the president, Caesar cannot possibly know everyone, especially those who are relatively low-key.

“It’s a girl named Inuyama Rin,” Lu Mingfei said. “She’s quite cute, not very tall, with long, straight black hair. She usually looks quiet and unremarkable.”

"Inuyama Risa," Caesar thought, searching his memory but not really recalling her. "Is there anything special about her?"

“What’s special about it,” Lu Mingfei said with a slightly amused expression. “Yesterday, I was buying drinks for Frillie and the others from the vending machine downstairs in the teaching building. That lousy machine swallowed the money and wouldn’t spit out the drinks. I patted it several times, but it didn’t work. I was feeling really frustrated when Inuyama Rin happened to walk by. She glanced at me and the vending machine, didn’t say anything, just walked over and kicked it. Yes, with her foot, wearing her little leather shoes, and with a ‘bang,’ she kicked the side of the vending machine solidly.”

As Lu Mingfei spoke, he gestured to imitate the scene: "That sound was really loud, it startled me. And guess what? The machine 'clunked' a few times, not only spitting out my drink, but also dropping out an extra one! Then she picked up my drink and handed it to me, her expression still so calm, as if she had just casually touched the door frame, said 'okay,' and chatted for a while before leaving."

Caesar paused for a moment, then burst into hearty laughter: "Hahahaha! Interesting! Really interesting! Using brute force to solve mechanical malfunctions is simple, direct, and highly effective! As expected of the Inuyama family, you certainly have personality! I admire people who don't play by the rules and have explosive action!"

He laughed until tears almost streamed down his face. After finally stopping, he wiped his eyes with his fingertips and added, "Of course, Chu Zihang is an exception. That's not called having personality, that's called being expressionless and a walking machine. We're formidable rivals, so we can't appreciate that."

Lu Mingfei silently complained in his heart: President, your double standards are too obvious! Isn't Senior Brother Chu very decisive? He was much more violent when he killed Deadpool than a vending machine! It really comes down to looks, no, it's about whether the atmosphere is right or wrong.

Emerging from the student council building, filled with an air of elite sophistication and the subtle scent of cologne, Lu Mingfei felt the sunlight outside seemed much more welcoming. Chatting with Caesar always carried an invisible pressure; no matter how easygoing the other seemed, the inherent nobility and confidence ingrained in him made this commoner feel somewhat out of place. He kicked at the pebbles by the roadside, his mind still echoing with phrases like "culture of the strong," "the chrysanthemum and the sword," and Inuyama Rin, who solved a vending machine problem with a single kick.

Ding-dong, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I took it out and saw a friend request notification on the screen.

"Inuyama Rishi requests to add you as a friend."

The note was as simple as just two words: "Hello".

Lu Mingfei was taken aback, then thought to himself, "Speak of the devil, and he appears," and clicked "accept." Almost immediately, a new message popped up in the chat interface.

Inuyama Risa: Hello, Lu Mingfei. I'm Inuyama Risa.

A photo was attached. In the photo, a pure white cat with heterochromatic eyes is lazily lying on a soft patch of grass. A slender, fair hand gently strokes the cat's chin, and the cat comfortably squints its eyes, its head tilted back slightly.

Lu Mingfei: Ah, hello, hello! [Attached: scratching head emoji] Is he feeding a cat?

Inuyama Risa: Hmm. There are a few permanent residents in the grove behind the academy. This one is called Yukimaru, and it's quite friendly.

Then, she sent a short video. In the video, Inuyama Risa was squatting on the ground, opening a small can of cat food, and carefully placing it in front of Yukimaru. The white cat sniffed it warily at first, then began to eat it in small bites, purring contentedly. Inuyama Risa stood quietly beside her, her fingers casually combing the fur on Yukimaru's back, a few strands of her long black hair falling beside her cheeks, a stark contrast to her earlier image of kicking a vending machine.

As Lu Mingfei watched the peaceful and beautiful scene in the video, he recalled Caesar's description of the Japanese branch, and a strong sense of disconnect arose within him. He hesitated for a moment, then tapped his fingers on the screen.

Lu Mingfei: Um, I was just chatting with Caesar, the student council president, about the Japanese branch. I heard that you guys really value a culture of the strong?

After sending the message, he waited nervously for a reply.

Inuyama Rin: Of course. [Attached: nodding emoji] That's the kind of atmosphere the Snake Clan has. Strength is paramount, there's a clear hierarchy, and it's only natural for the weak to submit to the strong.

Her reply was quick, and her tone was as calm as if she were stating a common-sense statement.

Lu Mingfei: That sounds like a lot of pressure...

Inuyama Nashi: It's alright, I'm used to it. Besides, having ability alone isn't enough.

Lu Mingfei: Huh? What else?

Inuyama Nashi: It's all about bloodline. [Attached: Cat tilting its head emoji] The older and more prestigious the family, the higher the status of its descendants within the Eight Families. This is something determined at birth and is very difficult to change.

Lu Mingfei: Bloodline theory? What does that mean?

Lu Mingfei was taken aback. The word sounded familiar to him, but in this context it felt somewhat strange and feudal.

Inuyama Rin: It's exactly what it sounds like. For example, the three main families like the Minamoto, Uesugi, and Tachibana clans—as long as their bloodline ranking isn't too low—have a starting point and access to resources far superior to other branch families. Our Inuyama family, while also one of the eight families, has historically been more responsible for... well, external affairs. So, in the eyes of the old-fashioned, the nobility of bloodline is ultimately somewhat lacking. Strength is important, but noble bloodline is the foundation.

Lu Mingfei stared at the words "bloodline theory" on the screen, feeling a strange tightness in his chest. He thought of his S-level rating, which felt like a label he'd gotten by sheer luck. Half curious, half self-deprecating, he typed:

Lu Mingfei: So, according to your Snake Clan's standards, what status would someone like me have?

He regretted it as soon as he sent it, feeling like a little kid seeking approval.

On the other end of the phone, Inuyama Risa, who had been gently scratching Yukimaru's chin, stopped. She looked at Lu Mingfei's question, tilted her head to think for a moment, and then her gaze fell on the white cat stretching comfortably beside her. She reached out and gently stroked Yukimaru's smooth, soft head, as if gaining some kind of confirmation from the warm touch. Then, she picked up her phone and replied earnestly.

Inuyama Rin: That's what you said.

She paused for a few seconds, organizing her thoughts.

Inuyama Rin: Probably, something like Director Genjiro?

"Pfft—," Lu Mingfei almost choked on his own saliva. Genjiro? The executive director of the Japanese branch, the young master of the Snake-Headed Eight Family. He felt his heart skip a beat.

Before he could even react, another message came from Inuyama Rin.