Chapter 46: Borrow a Brain

(Non-canonical: The previous chapter was overwritten by new plot; readers who viewed it before 2 AM last night, please go back and review it to avoid plot discontinuity.)

Looking at the milk tea in front of him, Zheng Fa frowned at Tang Lingwumin: “I’ve always known Old Bai fears death—but you’re still so young…”

“It can make you white.”

Tang Lingwumin whispered.

Zheng Fa stared at her small face for a long time, confused: “Do you even have this need?”

In his view, Tang Lingwumin’s face was whiter and smoother than his own now.

Tang Lingwumin’s eyes burned with eagerness as she nodded seriously, making it clear she desperately wanted it.

Zheng Fa shook his head in confusion and turned to look at Old Bai beside him.

Old Bai also felt Zheng Fa didn’t understand him and whispered in defense: “That’s not fear of death—that’s deep attachment to this world!”

He sighed: “All those young people online complain about wanting to die. Wait till you reach my age—you’ll understand how beautiful life is, how precious existence is. One blink, your whole life is over, and then you’ll learn to cherish it.”

Seeing Old Bai’s pale hair, his wrinkled face, and hearing his sigh filled with life’s wisdom, Zheng Fa couldn’t help but be moved.

Tang Lingwumin looked at him with admiration: “Grandpa Bai, I’ve rarely met someone as passionate about life as you.”

“You don’t get it!” Old Bai waved his hand. “When I was young, my PhD thesis was garbage—I was terrified I wouldn’t graduate. My boss after graduation treated me like dirt. I wanted to be a great mathematician remembered for eternity? I didn’t have the brains. I wanted to be an academic slacker living off free meals until I died? I didn’t even have the right father.”

“Back then, every morning I woke up wishing the world would end. I dreamed of hanging myself from that crooked tree outside the department office, just to show that idiot boss what for.”

“Now it’s different! My pension is tens of thousands a month. I own an apartment in Beijing, don’t have to work, don’t have to babysit grandkids. Every morning I stroll in the park, exercise, strong and healthy, no illness, no pain. I ride the bus and no young person needs to give me their seat.”

“At night I go watch square dancing. Those little old ladies ten years younger than me, hearing my conditions, dream every day of a twilight romance with me.”

Old Bai looked at the two of them and sighed: “I’ve paid social security for decades—finally, this day has come. If it were you, would you want to die?”

Tang Lingwumin’s eyes widened: “So you mean… when we reach your age, we’ll understand…”

“Exactly. When you retire, you’ll understand.”

Old Bai said as if it were obvious.

…

“The Dao is not lightly transmitted, let alone my sect’s ultimate art. Your desire to learn martial arts is clearly insincere.”

Although the old man spoke with reason and conviction, Zheng Fa did not easily agree.

“Master, please, give me another chance—I’ll study hard!” Old Bai gazed at Zheng Fa with pleading eyes.

“Really want to learn?”

“Really!”

Zheng Fa nodded: “I’ll warn you upfront—your talent isn’t good. If you truly want to learn, you must never quit halfway again.”

“Never!” Old Bai slapped his ribs hard, making a loud thudding sound.

“Slow down! First, show me your sincerity!”

Zheng Fa turned and pulled several thick stacks of manuscript paper from his backpack on the chair.

They were the diagrams from the “Complete Explanation of Talisman Charts,” recorded from memory—he’d spent immense effort on just the first few volumes.

To his slight surprise, after mastering the “Spirit Crane Body,” his physical enhancements had improved his memory somewhat.

Old Bai stared at the thick pile of paper, lips trembling, sensing something wrong: “How many volumes… is this sincerity?”

Zheng Fa slowly extended one finger, smiling: “A whole room.”

Even without mastering the “Spirit Crane Body,” Old Bai was now whiter than Zheng Fa.

In recent weeks, Zheng Fa hadn’t given Old Bai many talisman diagrams to analyze—he’d mostly been learning topology from him.

After all, he preferred mastering the subject himself.

But he had to admit: his talent in this field was painfully lacking.

He stared at Old Bai’s curly-haired head.

You keep calling me stupid—but your brain seems pretty sharp. Mind if I borrow it?

Previously, Old Bai had been lazy and unwilling to be a tool.

Now… wasn’t this exactly what Old Bai had brought upon himself?

At the perfect moment of his guilt, Zheng Fa naturally pulled out the papers.

“Maybe… I should keep teaching you topology? Knowledge kept in your own head is safest,” Old Bai rubbed his head, feeling a chill—clearly still reluctant to be a tool, still struggling to resist.

“I never said I wouldn’t learn—I’m just slow,” Zheng Fa smiled sweetly.

He wanted top-tier private tutoring.

He wanted the tool’s brain too.

“Actually… I’ve just realized—you’re a raw gem in topology,” Old Bai said sincerely.

Zheng Fa sighed lightly: “Then your desire to learn martial arts doesn’t seem very sincere either.”

Seeing Zheng Fa wouldn’t budge, Old Bai glanced sideways—at the milk tea beside Zheng Fa.

A sudden insight struck him—he remembered he still had an ally. He twitched his eyes toward Tang Lingwumin:

We’re on the same side—you want to learn too! Help me plead!

Tang Lingwumin nodded, as if understanding perfectly, walked to the table, picked up the cup, and personally inserted the straw.

Old Bai smiled—he knew Tang Lingwumin understood: to beg for help, you must offer service!

The next moment, he watched in horror as Tang Lingwumin placed her lips on the straw.

“Feed me with your mouth?” Old Bai quickly reached out: “That’s too much service!”

Tang Lingwumin swallowed the milk tea, confused by his frantic expression, as if she didn’t understand him.

Old Bai stared blankly at her: “You drank it yourself?”

“Mm!” Tang Lingwumin nodded.

“Isn’t this your Baishili ?” Old Bai pressed.

“I’m not learning.” Tang Lingwumin lowered her head.

“It makes you white!”

“I’m naturally beautiful.”

“It’ll make you even more beautiful!” Old Bai pleaded.

“I’ll attract bees and butterflies.”

Old Bai hadn’t expected Tang Lingwumin to change so fast.

Remembering her earlier eagerness when speaking of becoming white, he shook his head, his gaze toward Zheng Fa turning colder.

Zheng Fa stared deeply at Tang Lingwumin—he understood her intent: she didn’t want to make him struggle.

After all, hiring a professor from Beijing University as a tool would cost more than a lifetime of milk tea.

Sensing both were watching her, Tang Lingwumin glanced away, muttering: “I’m just a little afraid of pain and tiredness… I don’t really want to train martial arts.”

Old Bai stared at her, slapping his forehead—this ally was worse than none!

He stared at the manuscript stack before him, frowned for a long time, then sighed softly and pushed it away.

This move surprised Zheng Fa.

Old Bai had been obsessed with living longer.

“What’s this?”

“I really don’t have time—I still have to write my book.”

Zheng Fa blinked: “You’re actually writing a book?”

“…So you thought I was lying to you?”

Zheng Fa nodded.

Old Bai looked at Tang Lingwumin beside him—she was nodding too.

“There’s not a shred of trust among the three of us!”