Elder Zhou's Recognition and Warning

Lu Yuan had just pushed open his dormitory door when someone called out behind him.

He turned to see the freckled apprentice from the Soul Beast laboratory. The apprentice hunched his neck and glanced around, his voice barely above a whisper. "Elder Zhou wants you. Now."

With that, he dashed off.

Lu Yuan turned and headed for the laboratory, his mind racing.

There could only be one reason Zhou Chun wanted him now.

The laboratory door stood slightly ajar, letting out the yellowish glow of a Soul Guidance Lamp. Lu Yuan pushed it open and went in.

Zhou Chun stood with his back to the door, fiddling with something at the workbench. Hearing him enter, he turned around. He was actually smiling-the old man usually wore a permanent frown.

"Close the door," Zhou Chun said, unable to suppress the excitement in his voice.

Lu Yuan pulled the door shut. It clicked, and the room fell silent except for the faint hum of the Soul Power meter.

"Sit." Zhou Chun pointed to a wooden stool, then plopped himself down on the edge of the workbench, his legs dangling and swinging. He rubbed his hands together, staring at Lu Yuan as though he were some rare curiosity.

"I figured out that little trick you pulled under the arena," he said, getting straight to the point.

Lu Yuan lifted his eyelids slightly.

"Dead Leaf Snake venom gland powder, roasted to remove the poison but retain its stickiness. Ground-up shed skin from a Gray Rock Lizard mixed in to lower the coefficient of friction." Zhou Chun spoke like a string of firecrackers. "The key wasn't the materials, but the timing. You calculated exactly when his center of gravity would shift forward during his lunge, when his right foot pushed hardest against the ground. At that moment, even the slightest slip would have left him unable to stop himself."

He slapped his thigh.

"Brilliant!"

The exclamation rang especially loud in the quiet laboratory. Lu Yuan didn't move, only watched. Zhou Chun's eyes shone with the light that only appeared when a pure researcher saw a brilliant experiment.

"And the cracks in the arena," Zhou Chun continued. "You surveyed them beforehand, didn't you? You deliberately lured him into charging that way. The granite there was badly weathered, with grains flaking off the surface. It was slippery to begin with. Add your powder to that..."

He shook his head and laughed again.

"Those fools called it a cheap trick. A cheap trick? What the hell do they know? You factored in the properties of the Soul Beast materials, the environment, and your opponent's behavioral patterns. You fought with a comprehensive model!"

Zhou Chun hopped off the workbench, walked up to Lu Yuan, and leaned forward.

"Tell me, how did you think to use Gray Rock Lizard shed skin? It has almost no residual Soul Power. Nobody pays any attention to it in conventional research."

Lu Yuan was silent for a moment.

"It was in the laboratory sample records," he said. "Cabinet thirty-seven, lower shelf. It was labeled 'Soul Power decay rate: extremely fast; residue negligible.' I looked through it."

"So you thought that since the residual Soul Power was negligible, you could instead make use of its remaining physical properties-like the powder from that slippery outer keratin layer?"

Lu Yuan nodded.

"Yes."

Zhou Chun straightened and let out a long breath. With his hands clasped behind his back, he paced a few steps around the laboratory, his boots creaking on the old wooden floor.

"Now that's a researcher's mind." He stopped suddenly, turned, and pointed at Lu Yuan. "You don't worship data or blindly follow convention. Most people see 'residual Soul Power negligible' and toss it aside. But you turned the question around: once the Soul Power was gone, what was left? What could it do?"

He walked back to the workbench and grabbed a stack of record sheets, shaking them until they rustled.

"In all my years teaching students, all I've seen are people who learn by rote and parrot the books. Someone like you, who can turn the cold data in a laboratory into living tactics in the arena-"

"You're the first."

He put great weight on those words.

The laboratory fell quiet. The needle on the Soul Power meter trembled slightly.

The excitement slowly faded from Zhou Chun's face. He pulled over a stool and sat opposite Lu Yuan, a mottled worktable between them.

"What a pity," Zhou Chun said.

Lu Yuan said nothing.

Zhou Chun watched him for a while, then suddenly lowered his voice.

"Ning Zhishou joined forces with Sun Ming, Chen Qinian, and two old pedants from the theory department. They submitted a report to the academy administration this afternoon."

He paused.

"The report says your theoretical foundations are extreme, and that you habitually use unproven cutting-edge conjectures to answer exam questions; that your fighting style relies on cheap tricks and undermines the seriousness of the assessment; and that your intentions... are unsound."

He said those last words very slowly.

Lu Yuan's face showed little expression. His fingertip tapped lightly against his knee.

"They've recommended a reassessment of your work-study status." Zhou Chun's voice dropped even lower. "They claim there are 'risks' in allowing you access to advanced theoretical materials and laboratory privileges. They've requested restrictions on what you can borrow and a suspension of your participation in any independent research project-including mine."

He gestured around them.

"Their reasons?" Lu Yuan asked.

The corners of Zhou Chun's mouth twitched, his smile a little cold.

"Ning Zhishou says your approach to answering questions 'deviates from the classical system.' Sun Ming says you 'undermined the fundamentals' in Soul Tool class. And Chen Qinian-the referee today-says the way you won 'lacked the upright conduct expected of a Soul Master.' Three people, three charges. Is that enough?"

The sky outside the window had darkened. In the distance, the academy's evening bell sounded, deep and heavy.

"Who has the report now?" Lu Yuan asked.

"The vice dean. The one in charge of teaching and discipline," Zhou Chun said. "He's been trying to get the better of Ning Zhishou for years, but Ning Zhishou has connections on the fringes of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect behind him, so he can't touch him. As for your situation... he'll probably use it as a bargaining chip and go back and forth a few rounds."

He sighed and leaned back.

"In the end, they'll likely each take a step back. You should be able to keep your work-study status, since Shen Moxin vouched for your admission. But the restrictions on your access... will most likely pass."

Zhou Chun looked at Lu Yuan.

"You might not be able to enter the library's inner section anymore. Your authorization to requisition advanced Soul Beast samples will also be taken away. As for the laboratory-"

He looked around and gave a bitter smile.

"Nobody wants to come to this place of mine anyway. They probably won't bother issuing a special order, but they'll 'advise' me to choose my assistants carefully. In other words, you shouldn't come around so often."

When he finished, only the hum of the Soul Power meter remained in the laboratory.

Lu Yuan lowered his eyes to the stains of varying depths on the worktable. After a long while, he spoke.

"Why are you telling me all this, Teacher Zhou?"

Zhou Chun was taken aback.

Lu Yuan raised his eyes, his gaze calm.

"You just said they advised you to choose your assistants carefully. If you wanted to avoid trouble, you could simply distance yourself from me in private. There's no need to risk warning me."

Zhou Chun looked at Lu Yuan for a long while. Then he suddenly laughed and shook his head. He pulled a flat tin from inside his clothes, pinched out some shredded tobacco, and stuffed it into his mouth to chew.

The pungent smell of tobacco spread through the room.

"I've been at this academy for twenty-eight years." His voice was a little muffled. "I've taught more than four hundred students, published seventeen papers, and applied for research funding nine times. Three were approved. My best result was discovering that the Soul Power decay in Bristle Rat bristles fluctuates in cycles-and even that was dismissed by the theory department as having 'limited practical value.'"

He spat out the chewed tobacco.

"I don't have much of a future left, Lu Yuan. This is how it'll be for the rest of my life: tending this ramshackle laboratory, tinkering with these low-level Soul Beast materials nobody wants. One day, when I can't keep working, I'll retire and leave."

Zhou Chun stared at the old Soul Power meter.

"But I don't want to see the same thing happen to you."

He paused, his voice sinking.

"They're trying to cut off your path. First they'll limit your access to knowledge, then trap you in work-study chores, wearing away your time and draining your spark. When you've become like most people, only capable of following the usual steps, they'll say, 'See? We said from the start this kid was no good.'"

Lu Yuan said nothing.

Zhou Chun stood and walked to the peeling metal filing cabinet by the wall. He crouched, pulled open the bottom drawer, and reached all the way to the back. After feeling around, he took out a yellowed sheet of writing paper folded in half.

He walked back, placed the paper on the worktable, and pushed it toward Lu Yuan.

"I'm a nobody, so I can't do much to help," Zhou Chun said. "But if the day comes when you can't stay at the academy..."

He hesitated, tapping a finger on the paper.

"You can try your luck here."

Lu Yuan picked up the paper. It was brittle, its edges worn and frayed. An address was scrawled on it in ink.

[No. 27, Old Shipyard Alley, West District, Vast Sea City, Southwest Heaven Dou Empire]

Below it was another line in smaller writing.

[Ask for Elder Lin. Tell him Old Zhou sent you.]

Lu Yuan looked up.

Zhou Chun avoided his gaze and walked to the window, turning his back to him.

"That place... is different. The people there study things that can't be brought into the open. Spirit Hall doesn't recognize them, the great sects look down on them, and the academy system certainly won't include them."

He paused.

"But they might understand what you're saying."

Outside, the sky had gone completely dark. Lights came on one by one in the distant dormitory district.

Lu Yuan looked at the paper in his hand. The rough surface felt slightly cool beneath his fingertips.

He folded it carefully and placed it in the pocket closest to his body. The fabric made the faintest rustle.

"Thank you," he said.

Zhou Chun didn't turn around, only waved a hand.

"Go on. Come to the laboratory less often for now and let things blow over. I'll record the data for you."

Lu Yuan rose and walked to the door. With his hand on the handle, he stopped and looked back.

"Teacher Zhou."

"Hmm?"

"The conjecture about the tidal cycle," Lu Yuan said. "If it's verified, can a paper be published on it?"

Zhou Chun's back stiffened. Then he laughed, the sound dry.

"Published? Where? Those people in the theory department would say, 'Fluctuations in the ambient Soul Power field? What a wild fantasy! Without perception on the level of a nine-ring Titled Douluo, who could verify a hypothesis like that?'"

He turned around, wearing that familiar expression, a mixture of mockery and resignation.

"That's how this world is. If you haven't reached that level, everything you say is wrong. Once you have, even your farts are gospel."

Lu Yuan nodded.

He pulled open the door and walked out. The corridor was empty, with the faint clamor of students at evening study coming from afar.

The door closed softly behind him.

Inside the laboratory, Zhou Chun returned to the workbench and stared at the jumping needle on the Soul Power meter. After watching it for a long time, he suddenly reached out and switched off the Soul Guidance Lamp.

Darkness swallowed everything.

Only the faint green glow on the Soul Power meter's dial continued to flicker stubbornly.