Questions in Class

The classroom for the elective course on Soul Tool fundamentals was on the west side of the main campus. It got so little natural light that lamps had to be lit even in broad daylight.

Teacher Sun walked in as the bell rang.

He was in his fifties, lean and wiry, with a ramrod-straight back. His old-style Soul Master robe had been washed and starched stiff, its collar and cuffs worn pale-it was a Spirit Hall Technical Department style from more than a decade ago, long since out of fashion. His graying hair was meticulously combed, deep lines bracketed his mouth, and he had a habit of raising his chin when he looked at people.

He walked behind the lectern and cleared his throat.

"Today, we'll cover elementary energy-buffering circuits," he said in a rigid voice. "The foundation of foundations. Everyone, pay attention."

Notebooks rustled open below.

Lu Yuan sat in the middle rows, near the aisle. He opened his notebook, his charcoal pencil hovering over the page.

Teacher Sun turned to draw a diagram. His chalk lines were stiff, but the structure was standard-a typical "triangular buffer array." Three Soul Power capacitors, two energy-conducting runes.

"The capacitors store Soul Power; the runes guide its flow." He tapped the blackboard. "When external Soul Power fluctuates, the array alternates the charging and discharging of the capacitors to smooth the output and protect the core."

He paused, then spoke more emphatically.

"Remember, this structure has been verified by the Spirit Hall Technical Department over thirty years. It is the most stable and reliable. Any alteration is a desecration of a classic and a disregard for safety."

Lu Yuan studied the diagram.

In his mind, the complex buffering models from his previous life surfaced automatically, overlapping with the crude structure on the blackboard. The flaws were all too obvious-the capacitors charged and discharged on a fixed schedule, and the runes guided the flow in only one direction. If the frequency of the incoming Soul Power fluctuations approached the array's natural resonant frequency...

The energy would build up.

The buffer would fail, or even amplify the fluctuations instead, sending them crashing into the core.

A basic yet fatal flaw. In this era, it was revered as a classic.

He tapped his index finger lightly against his knee, calculating the resonance point.

Teacher Sun began discussing a "practical application case"-how to use the array to provide a stable light output for the most basic Soul Power lamp. There was nothing wrong with the example, but the tone in which he treated outdated technology as an unquestionable standard made Lu Yuan frown slightly.

Rationally speaking, keeping his mouth shut was safest.

Just a few days ago, Teacher Sun had torn up a work-study student's sketch in public and berated him until he couldn't lift his head. What had happened to Mo Chen was still vivid in his mind, too.

But watching an obvious error being taught as "truth," watching the work-study students below take notes in bewildered reverence, he felt as though something were lodged in his throat.

Knowledge shouldn't be like this.

He took a breath and raised his hand.

The movement was steady.

The classroom fell silent for a moment. Several formal students in the front row turned around, surprise in their eyes. The work-study students froze-very few dared raise a hand to ask a question in Teacher Sun's class.

Teacher Sun stopped lecturing. He looked toward the raised hand, and his gaze fell on Lu Yuan. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He recognized the student, the one who had been scrawling incomprehensible scribbles in the alley behind the library.

"Go ahead." His tone was flat, with a hint of displeasure.

Lu Yuan lowered his hand and stood up.

"Teacher Sun, I have a question about the triangular buffer array."

"Speak."

"The array's buffering performance depends on the timing of the capacitors' charging and discharging matching the fluctuations in the incoming Soul Power." Lu Yuan spoke evenly, his wording precise in a way that seemed unlike a child's. "If the frequency of the incoming Soul Power fluctuations happens to approach the array's natural frequency-say, when a Soul Master's emotions fluctuate sharply, or when the characteristics of a Martial Soul give the output a particular rhythm-the array may not only fail to buffer it, but may even amplify the fluctuations through resonance, sending them crashing into the core downstream. The textbook doesn't seem to mention that risk."

The classroom grew even quieter.

The formal students in the front row exchanged glances, and some curled their lips. Most of the work-study students were bewildered, but they could tell something was wrong with the atmosphere.

Teacher Sun's face darkened.

He stared at Lu Yuan, his gaze like knives. "Natural frequency? Resonance?" He repeated the two terms, his voice cold and mocking. "Those are all concepts from advanced Soul Guidance theory. Where did a work-study student like you hear them?"

"I thought of them myself," Lu Yuan replied.

He wasn't lying; he just hadn't said everything-he had "thought" of them based on the vast store of knowledge from his previous life.

"You thought of them yourself?" Teacher Sun sneered and rapped the blackboard hard with his fingers. "You? You take a few glances at the blackboard and dare question a classic structure verified by the Spirit Hall Technical Department over thirty years? And resonance... Do you know how precise the Soul Power control and how complex the array matching required for resonance are? Elementary buffering circuits have no use for it at all!"

His voice rose.

Lu Yuan fell silent for two seconds. Since he had already spoken, he decided to finish. "I'm only raising a possibility. Besides, there's a simple way to improve the design and avoid the risk."

Teacher Sun froze.

He hadn't expected this work-study student not only to question it, but to dare suggest an "improvement."

"What did you say?" He almost forced the words through his teeth.

"Add a miniature Soul Power sensing node halfway along the second energy-conducting rune, with a small reverse capacitor connected in parallel." As Lu Yuan spoke, he traced a diagram in the air with his hand. "When the node detects that the frequency of the Soul Power fluctuations is approaching a dangerous value, it triggers the reverse capacitor to release a tiny amount of Soul Power, disrupting the fluctuations and breaking the conditions for resonance. The cost would increase by less than ten percent, while stability would improve significantly."

His description was specific, and he had even offered a rough design.

The classroom was utterly silent.

Every student was looking at Lu Yuan, their expressions a mix of shock, doubt, mockery, and sympathy.

Teacher Sun's livid face flushed dark red.

He felt anger at being challenged in public, and beneath that, panic-what this work-study student had said seemed to make a little sense. But it was precisely that little bit of "sense" he found hardest to accept.

If it was right, then what was the "classic" he had upheld for half his life? What was the authority he relied on to stand his ground?

"Absurd!" He slammed the lectern, sending chalk dust sifting down. "There's no theoretical basis for any of that! You're talking out of your hat! What do you think designing Soul Tools is? Children playing house? You think you can just add nodes and capacitors as you please? Do you know how important the integrity of a Soul Power circuit is? Adding structures at random will only disrupt the energy balance, causing Soul Power to leak and the circuit to overheat or even explode!"

The more he spoke, the more agitated he became, flecks of spit nearly spraying the faces of those in the front row.

"I've seen plenty of work-study students like you!" He pointed at Lu Yuan, his finger trembling with anger. "You have only a few levels of Soul Power and a half-baked grasp of theory, yet you spend all day dreaming of reaching the heavens in a single bound! Alter a classic? Optimize the structure? Are you worthy? Do you know that these circuits are the fruit of experience bought with the blood, sweat, and even lives of generations of Soul Engineers?"

His roar reverberated through the classroom.

Lu Yuan stood where he was and said nothing more. He looked at Teacher Sun's face, twisted with anger, and at the unquestioning madness in his eyes as he defended something, and suddenly felt tired.

Not angry, but tired.

Mo Chen's face and the face before him overlapped in a bizarre way. One had been suppressed and exiled; the other was desperately upholding the system that suppressed others.

Both were shackles.

"What are you standing there for? Sit down!" Teacher Sun barked. "You don't need to listen to today's lesson! Go back and copy chapter three of the textbook ten times! Think hard about what it means to keep your feet on the ground!"

Lu Yuan sat down silently, put away his charcoal pencil, and closed his notebook.

His movements were gentle.

Teacher Sun's anger had not yet subsided. He spent another quarter of an hour scolding the entire class, the gist being nothing more than "respect the classics," "hold knowledge in awe," and "don't aim too high." The students below were as silent as cicadas in winter.

The second half of the lesson ended in a rush, under an oppressive gloom.

The dismissal bell rang. Teacher Sun gave a cold snort, tucked his lesson plan under his arm, and left without looking back. The students rose and hurried out, relieved. No one looked at Lu Yuan, and no one spoke to him, as though an invisible barrier surrounded him.

Lu Yuan wasn't in a hurry to leave.

He remained in his seat and reopened his notebook. Looking at the diagram of the triangular buffer array he had copied down, he wrote his ideas for the improved node design in tiny characters in the blank space beside it.

He wrote very slowly, stroke by stroke.

The classroom was almost empty. The light was dim, and the Soul Guidance Lamp gave off a faint hum.

Only then did a girl who had sat quietly in the front row begin to pack her cloth bag. She wore a plain, light-colored dress and a bracelet strung with various small, dark brown seeds around her wrist. Her movements were slow and gentle, making almost no sound.

As she passed Lu Yuan, her steps paused almost imperceptibly.

Then, in a breath-thin voice that only the two of them could hear, she quickly said:

"That feedback node you mentioned... I saw a similar description in a very old family notebook."

Lu Yuan's pencil stopped.

He looked up.

The girl did not look at him. The lines of her profile were soft, her eyelashes lowered. She continued walking, as though the words she had just spoken were only an illusion.

But her voice drifted over again, even softer, like a feather:

"It was called the 'Moonlight Stabilization Ring.'"