Jiang Ran

The counseling office at Fengcheng No. 3 High School.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the blinds, carving neat stripes of light and shadow across the floor.

Jiang Ran sat on the beige fabric sofa, his fingers tapping lightly against his knees as his gaze rested on the boy huddled in the chair opposite him.

The boy was Li Hao, a second-year student, and he was the seventeenth case of school aversion Jiang Ran had received this semester.

"So..." Jiang Ran's voice was gentle, "your father said that if you don't get into medical school, he'll confiscate your game console, phone, and computer next semester, and cut off your allowance?"

Li Hao didn't look up, his fingers sliding rapidly across his phone screen. "Yeah."

"You think that's very unfair."

"No kidding." The boy curled his lip. "Just because three generations of our family have been doctors, now they demand I become one too, without ever asking for my opinion. By what right?"

Jiang Ran smiled.

His gaze fell upon the boy's phone screen.

It was a remake of a classic platformer game.

"That level is quite difficult," Jiang Ran said suddenly.

Li Hao's fingers paused, and he finally looked up, his eyes showing a hint of surprise.

Most teachers, upon seeing a student playing games, would react by confiscating the device or scolding them.

"Especially the third lava pit." Jiang Ran leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You have to time the jump a bit earlier, because the character has a bit of forward momentum after taking off."

Li Hao's eyes widened slightly. "How do you know that?"

"I've played it too," Jiang Ran smiled. "And I beat it."

A brief silence followed.

The game's sound effects continued, but the boy's attention was clearly no longer on the screen.

Jiang Ran struck while the iron was hot. "You said you wanted to get back at your father, so you're intentionally not studying. That's actually a pretty stupid method."

Li Hao frowned. "Then what else can I do?"

"I have a better way to get revenge. Want to know?"

The boy hesitated for a moment, his fingers moving away from the screen as the phone went dark.

Jiang Ran leaned back into the sofa. "Think about it. If Mario went through all that trouble to defeat Bowser and finally reached the castle where the princess was locked up, only to suddenly turn around and leave, leaving the princess all alone there...

Wouldn't that be even crueler?"

Li Hao froze, blinking his eyes.

"It... it really would be quite cruel," he muttered.

"It's the same for you. First, study your heart out and get your grades up, preferably into the top fifty in the grade.

When it comes time to fill out your college applications..."

Jiang Ran paused intentionally, looking into the boy's eyes.

"Don't apply to the medical school your father wants.

Pick a major he would never expect, like game design or psychology."

Li Hao's mouth hung slightly open.

A few seconds later, a spark of excitement slowly ignited in his eyes.

"If I did that..." his voice trembled slightly, "my dad would go crazy, wouldn't he?"

"More than that," Jiang Ran laughed. "He'll be confused, helpless, and completely unable to understand what his son is thinking.

And you, you will have gained complete control.

That is what you call real revenge."

Li Hao lowered his head, looking at the darkened phone screen.

The screen reflected his own face.

And a hint of excitement that had just begun to sprout.

Just then, in the upper right corner of Jiang Ran's field of vision, a pale blue, translucent panel quietly emerged.

[Name: Jiang Ran]
[Age: 24]
[Occupation: Teacher, Artifact Appraiser, Mixed Martial Artist...]
[Teacher Lv.5 (321/500)]
[Basic Occupational Skills: Psychology Lv.9 (832/900)]
[Mathematics Lv.5 (252/500)]
[Chinese Lv.8 (393/800)]

[Physics Lv.4 (123/400)]

[...]

[Career Points: 0]

[Core Career Skill: Psychological Profiling Lv.3 (98/300)]

[Your Psychology skill has improved, EXP +27]

Almost there.

Jiang Ran maintained a calm smile.

His Psychology skill was only 68 EXP away from reaching max level.

"Teacher Jiang..." Li Hao suddenly spoke, his voice much clearer than before, "If I want to do well on my exams, how should I start?"

The clock in the counseling room pointed to 4:40 PM.

The school bell rang out across the campus.

Jiang Ran was just locking the last record book into the filing cabinet.

Outside the window, students surged toward the school gate like a flood released from a dam.

A few girls passed by the counseling room, sneaking glances inside and whispering to each other.

Although Jiang Ran had only been at this school for half a year, the reputation of "that handsome psychology teacher who is exceptionally good at talking" had already quietly spread.

He pretended not to notice, shouldered his black backpack, and locked the door.

He arrived at the parking lot.

Jiang Ran mounted his mountain bike, the tires crushing the fallen sycamore leaves on the ground with a crisp, fragmented sound.

October in Feng City.

The evening breeze already carried a chill.

He rode along Zhongshan Road, passing through the old city district.

On both sides stood aged French-style buildings, their red brick walls covered in withered ivy.

Further ahead, the glass-curtain skyscrapers of the new district rose into the sky, the neon lights just flickering on, looking like strings of colorful gems floating in the darkening air.

Stopping at a traffic light, Jiang Ran glanced at his watch: 5:20.

The timing was perfect.

Twenty-four years old, nearly two years since graduation.

While his classmates were crowding into big corporations, taking civil service exams, or struggling in family businesses, Jiang Ran had chosen a less conventional path.

This was all thanks to the career panel that had suddenly appeared in his mind late one night after graduation.

At first, he thought it was a hallucination brought on by staying up late to write his thesis.

But soon, he discovered that as long as he engaged in work with a clear social identity, the panel would appear to record relevant skills and experience.

Once a career reached max level, he could extract career points to add to other professions.

To master a hundred arts and refine them into one—that was the essence of it.

And so, over the past year, he had tried many identities.

Barista, bookstore clerk, pet trainer, freelance writer...

Currently, he had three stable ones.

An external psychology teacher at Fengcheng No. 3 High School, an external cultural relic appraisal assistant at the Feng City Museum, and a weekend coach at the Hurricane Free Combat Gym.

The income wasn't particularly high, but it was enough to live on.

More importantly... it was freedom.

The Feng City Museum was located on the edge of the old city, a Soviet-style building constructed in the 1950s.

Jiang Ran locked his bike and entered through the side staff entrance.

"Little Jiang is here?" Old Zhang the security guard poked his head out of the window, smiling. "A new batch arrived today, and Director Wang has been asking for you since this morning."

"Uncle Zhang." Jiang Ran nodded, pulling his work ID from his bag to swipe into the building.

Pushing open the door to the appraisal department, the view before him opened up.

In the open space of over two hundred square meters, rows of long tables were covered with white cushions, upon which various artifacts awaiting appraisal were laid out.

Several staff members were carefully examining the objects in their hands.

"Teacher Jiang!" A middle-aged woman wearing round-rimmed glasses looked up; she was the department head, Wang Wenjuan. "You're finally here, we've been waiting for you."

Jiang Ran smiled slightly and took his white gloves and toolbox out of his locker.

His primary income came from this identity as an external cultural relic appraiser.

Though called an appraiser, he was more like a consultant.

Whether it was appraisal or cleaning, Jiang Ran did a little bit of everything.

"What's the situation today?"

Jiang Ran asked as he put on his gloves.

"Three batches of items." Wang Wenjuan led him to the long table at the far end. "This batch is a private donation, said to be Ming and Qing dynasty porcelain passed down through a family.

This batch was transferred by the Public Security Bureau, seized from a smuggling case—bronze ware.

The most troublesome one is this batch..."

She pointed to several transport crates in the corner, their surfaces still caked with dried mud.

"They were sent over yesterday from a construction site in the East District development zone. They were discovered while digging the foundation, and preliminary assessments suggest it's a civilian burial site from the Song and Ming dynasties.

But there are some... strange things mixed in."

Jiang Ran raised an eyebrow. "Strange?"

"We cleaned a portion of it. There are everyday utensils, but also a few pieces that don't seem like they belong to that era."

Wang Wenjuan lowered her voice.

Jiang Ran nodded, not asking further.

He first walked toward the batch of donated porcelain.

He picked up a blue-and-white bowl with lotus scroll patterns, his fingertips feeling the texture of the glaze, leaning in to observe the color of the cobalt, then turning it over to inspect the trimming technique of the foot rim.

After a dozen seconds, he set it down gently.

"Late Qing or early Republic imitation of Ming, a common folk kiln piece. The craftsmanship is decent, but the cobalt pigment is mediocre."

Wang Wenjuan quickly jotted it down in her notebook.

He picked up a small famille rose floral saucer.

"This one is interesting."

Jiang Ran used a professional flashlight to shine light from the side, the beam passing through the body. "A Republic-era imitation of Yongzheng. The brushwork is fine, but the enamel colors are too vibrant and lack the mellow warmth of age."

[Profession: Artifact Appraiser Lv.4 (215/400)]

[Basic Professional Skill: Ceramic Appraisal Lv.5 (189/500)]

[Bronze Appraisal Lv.3 (87/300)]

[Jade Appraisal Lv.2 (45/200)]

[Pattern Dating Lv.4 (156/400)]

On the panel, the experience points for Ceramic Appraisal jumped by three.

An hour later, all seventeen pieces of donated porcelain had been processed.

Next came the smuggled bronze ware.

The condition of these items was poor, with most suffering from severe corrosion.

Except for one Han dynasty TLV mirror and two small, authentic late Western Zhou wine vessels, the rest were later imitations.

It was nine o'clock in the evening.

The other staff members left one by one. Wang Wenjuan glanced at the transport crates in the corner. "Xiao Jiang, why don't we call it a day? We can handle those excavated artifacts tomorrow..."

"I'll take a look at a few," Jiang Ran said. "I've got nothing else to do tonight anyway."

Wang Wenjuan hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright then, I'll go fill out an overtime form. Remember to lock up when you leave and put the key in the usual spot."

"Got it."

The door closed softly.

Jiang Ran was left alone in the vast workshop.

After the overhead lights were turned off, only the two professional appraisal lamps above his head remained.

He walked to the transport crates and opened the first one.

A heavy, earthy, musty smell rushed toward him.

Most of the items were pottery jars, porcelain bowls, and other daily necessities, consistent with the characteristics of Song and Ming civilian tombs.

But an object in the third compartment made Jiang Ran stop his movements.

It was a clod of dirt the size of a palm.

The strange thing was that while the other excavated items had undergone preliminary cleaning and at least partially revealed their forms, this clod remained exactly as it was.

Jiang Ran used his gloved hands to nudge it out.

The clod was heavier than expected.

He held his breath and began to gently brush along the texture of the mud shell.

As the dirt flaked away, a strange, dark red luster was revealed.

The very moment Jiang Ran's fingertip unconsciously brushed against that dark red patch...

A sensation of icy coldness surged violently up through his fingertip.

Jiang Ran's hand trembled, and the clod of earth nearly slipped from his grasp.

Almost simultaneously, that dark red luster seemed to shimmer faintly.

Before he could react, a voice resonated with a hum in his ears.

[Qualification verification in progress...]

[Congratulations, you have obtained the qualification of Void Walker]

[Next opening time of the Void: October 14th, 00:00]

[Please ensure you are in a safe and private environment at that time]

[The mark will guide you there]

Jiang Ran froze in place.

"Teacher Jiang?"

The voice came from the doorway.

Jiang Ran snapped back to reality, his fingers recoiling from the clod of earth.

He looked up to see Lin, a young researcher from the museum, standing at the door holding a stack of documents.

"Director Wang asked me to leave these on her desk." Lin glanced over curiously, "You haven't left yet?"

"...Right away." Jiang Ran's voice was calm.

Lin set the documents down, "Then I'll be heading off, Teacher Jiang."

"Alright, take care on your way."

The door closed once more.

Jiang Ran slowly lowered his head, looking back at the clod of earth.

He took a deep breath, picked up the brush, and this time decisively swept it across the surface of the clod.

The dried, caked mud fell away in rustles.

Half a minute later, the outer layer of the clod was basically cleaned off, revealing the interior...

It was empty.

Only some dark red powder remained on the mat, like traces of some weathered mineral pigment.

The interior of the clod was hollow with an irregular shape, and faint patterns could be seen, as if something had once grown inside and then vanished.

Or, had been taken away.

Jiang Ran stared at that empty void, his mind rapidly replaying the voice from just moments ago.

He extended his right index finger, examining it carefully.

There was nothing unusual about his fingertip—no marks, no residue.

It wasn't an auditory hallucination.

Jiang Ran reached that conclusion almost immediately.

As someone with near-maxed-out skills in psychology, he knew all too well that genuine hallucinations were usually closely linked to an individual's mental state, underlying stress, or physiological factors.

They often carried characteristics of blurriness, distortion, or intense emotional projection.

Yet that voice had appeared without warning, its content abrupt and devoid of any personal emotional color.

The clod was empty.

But that was precisely the corroborating evidence.

If it had been a figment of his own imagination, he likely would have seen or sensed something extraordinary inside the earth, something conforming to some hidden expectation.

But there was nothing; the clod was just a clod.

At this moment, Jiang Ran recalled the final timestamp mentioned.

His heart tightened slightly.

October 14th, midnight...

That was only a few hours away from now!?