Chapter 56

After the monthly exam results came out, Zheng Fa and Tang Lingwumin returned to Bai Lao’s house.

“I heard you did well this time?” Bai Lao asked Zheng Fa.

His expression was less praise than quiet pride.

"It’s all thanks to your elder’s teaching," Zheng Fa replied smoothly.

Hearing this, Bai Lao’s face wrinkled into a radiant chrysanthemum.

“I have a friend who also struggles with his studies…” Zheng Fa suddenly said, seizing the moment.

“Stop!” Bai Lao raised a palm, frowning: “I refuse.”

Zheng Fa hadn’t expected the old man to be so wary—he hadn’t even finished speaking before being turned down.

He wasn’t in the least rushed; he merely glanced at Bai Lao and stayed silent, waiting.

Sure enough, seeing Zheng Fa say nothing, Bai Lao grew restless: “You really won’t tell me?”

Zheng Fa looked at the old man with feigned confusion: “Didn’t you just tell me to stop?”

“How about you beg a little more?”

Zheng Fa spoke as he’d hoped: “Do you have the simplest, fastest way to decode those symbol diagrams?”

“What’s the fastest way?”

Zheng Fa opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words.

Tang Lingwumin understood and kindly offered the precise translation: “Three long, one short—pick the shortest; three short, one long—pick the longest…”

Bai Lao’s face darkened: “No wonder you brought up some ‘friend’—I’m a professor at Beijing University, and you want me to teach you to guess? You’re insulting me with these shady tricks!”

Zheng Fa truly wanted this guessing technique for one friend—the Seventh Young Master.

In two months, the Seventh Young Master must enter Dengxianmen; if he started from Elementary Math now, it’d be impossible—he could only rely on guessing, no, on the great and miraculous power of probability.

Even if not for the Seventh Young Master himself, given the Lady’s demands, Zheng Fa had to secure another safeguard for him.

As expected, upon hearing this request, Bai Lao shook his head rapidly, his small curls flailing wildly as if voicing his refusal.

Zheng Fa gave Tang Lingwumin a glance.

Tang Lingwumin understood instantly and assumed the Song Crane Stance.

Zheng Fa placed his hand on her back.

Bai Lao watched, curious: “What are you two doing?”

“I thought of a shortcut,” Zheng Fa smiled warmly. “To help her cultivate faster.”

“…How much faster?” Bai Lao blinked.

“According to my estimate, she’ll master the Song Crane Stance in half a month,” Zheng Fa mused.

Bai Lao’s eyes widened slightly—he remembered Zheng Fa previously saying Tang Lingwumin, young and healthy, should progress faster than him, but even so, the Song Crane Stance would take at least two or three months to enter.

Now only half a month?

“This…,” Bai Lao rubbed his hands, hesitating: “Could I… maybe try this method too?”

"No, I could never use such underhanded tricks to insult your elder," Zheng Fa replied with perfect sincerity.

“Actually… it wouldn’t hurt to insult you a little.”

After speaking, Bai Lao saw Zheng Fa’s unchanged smile, clenched his teeth, turned, and entered the study. When he returned, he held a black-covered notebook.

“What’s this?”

“I can’t teach you that kind of thing, nor would I ever. But you can learn this faster,” Bai Lao said sternly, handing the notebook to Zheng Fa.

Zheng Fa flipped through the notebook.

Inside were Bai Lao’s summaries of patterns from the symbol diagrams—not guessing rules, but identifying which basic elemental symbols each diagram likely evolved from, based on their distinctive patterns.

“For all but the most complex diagrams, these methods are 80–90% accurate.”

Zheng Fa nodded. The notebook wasn’t thin; Bai Lao had written it with great care—each elemental symbol matched with its characteristic patterns, each pattern illustrated with a dozen or so examples.

Seeing how slowly Zheng Fa learned topology, Bai Lao had skipped the theory entirely and gone straight to application.

“You wrote this…?” Zheng Fa wondered, thinking of where Bai Lao had retrieved it: “You’d already prepared it?”

“I was just bored writing my book, so I summed things up casually,” Bai Lao coughed, eyes darting away.

Zheng Fa knew the old man had put in real effort; his face softened with emotion.

“Don’t make it so sentimental,” Bai Lao muttered uncomfortably, then added: “I noticed you care deeply about this stuff—you’re anxious.”

Zheng Fa fell silent. He was indeed anxious—not just for the Seventh Young Master, but more to use symbol art to escape the Zhao family.

“Remember, this is just a minor trick,” Bai Lao warned again.

Zheng Fa took the notebook and bowed deeply to Bai Lao.

“I said, don’t make it so sentimental,” Bai Lao waved dismissively, then looked at Zheng Fa again and added: “I told you before—I didn’t want to take you on.”

“You said I wasn’t cut out for math.”

Bai Lao pointed at the notebook in Zheng Fa’s hands: “I’d planned to give you this later. But since I’m giving it to you now, I’ll say this: I didn’t take you on because you’re not like her.” He gestured to Tang Lingwumin beside him.

“This girl is simple-hearted. You? Full of schemes.” Bai Lao’s gaze returned to Zheng Fa: “You have two problems: impatience and selfishness.”

These words were heavy. Tang Lingwumin opened her mouth as if to speak for Zheng Fa.

“I’m not criticizing this boy—given his background, complexity is natural,” Bai Lao stopped her.

“But this won’t work in academia. I already told you about your impatience,” Bai Lao continued to the silent Zheng Fa: “Now, selfishness—I truly hoped you’d come asking for a real friend.”

“You’re a martial cultivator. In the martial world, whoever has the strongest fists rules. Everyone hoards divine arts and secret manuals, hoping only they can practice them.”

Zheng Fa thought of the culture in the Xuanwei Realm and nodded.

“But academia is different, Zheng Fa. Remember this,” Bai Lao fixed him with a steady gaze: “In academia, our enemy is never another person—it’s the mysteries of the world, the unsolved problems.”

Zheng Fa began to understand.

“Why do I want to write a book?” Bai Lao continued: “When I studied math, I read many others’ books. I know I couldn’t have reached my current level without them—I stood on the shoulders of giants. I’m old now, and I want to be a shoulder for others to stand on.”

“I understand,” Zheng Fa said to Bai Lao.

He knew Bai Lao meant well, but honestly, in the Xuanwei Realm, he couldn’t meet this standard—not yet.

“No, you don’t understand,” Bai Lao suddenly shook his head: “In my eyes, we academics are a league of failures—vast heavens, endless science. Tomorrow, the truth we believe may become nonsense; humanity may never see the world’s true face. Our failure is inevitable.”

“So we must accept failure—and cling together. A phrase that might be wrong elsewhere fits us perfectly: To go far, we must go together.”

"No, you don’t understand. Do you know? In my eyes, we academics are nothing but a league of failures— Heaven and Earth are vast, science has no end; tomorrow the truths we believe in may become fallacies, and perhaps humanity will never see the true nature of the world. Our failure is inevitable." The old man shook his head; "So we must accept failure, and above all, cling together for warmth. A saying that might be wrong elsewhere fits us perfectly— if you want to go far, you must walk together."

He believed he couldn’t live up to it, but that didn’t stop him from knowing Bai Lao was right.

“No, you still don’t understand,” Bai Lao suddenly grinned mischievously: “Everything I just said? Pure nonsense. The most important thing is—since we’re all going to fail, don’t let temporary wins or losses trouble you.”

Zheng Fa snapped his head up, staring at Bai Lao: “How did you know?”

He finally understood why Bai Lao had spoken these words—after meeting the Lady, he’d carried a burden, but he’d thought himself skilled at hiding his emotions.

Now he realized: whether giving him the notebook or speaking of failures, Bai Lao had been trying, in every indirect way, to comfort him.

Bai Lao snorted, pointing behind Zheng Fa: “This girl told me.”

Zheng Fa turned and saw Tang Lingwumin standing behind him, holding out a milk tea, her face expressionless: “Here. Drink.”

He fell silent, took the milk tea, sipped it, then stared into her eyes: “It’s sweet.”

Behind them, Bai Lao muttered: “I told you taking students is a hassle—you have to do all this emotional labor… and you haven’t even mastered martial arts yet. What a loss!”

“Grandpa Bai… your earlier words were a bit one-sided, weren’t they?” Tang Lingwumin sounded puzzled: “Isn’t academia full of plagiarism and theft? I’ve seen so many news stories.”

Both she and Zheng Fa knew those words hadn’t been nonsense.

Despite how this old man claimed he never wanted to take them on, from these opportunistic lessons, they could feel his deep expectations for them.

Hearing Tang Lingwumin’s question, Bai Lao pointed at Zheng Fa, baffled: “Does this boy’s martial skill look like decoration?”

Zheng Fa mentally translated Bai Lao’s words:

Academia is full of decent people.

But if someone refuses to be decent, Zheng Fa could help him be decent.

But if someone refuses to keep face, Zheng Fa can help him keep it.

When he woke, he was back in the Xuanwei Realm. Gao Yuan stared at Zheng Fa: “Zheng Fa, why do I feel you’ve smiled more these past few days?”

“I was a bit down before, but today I decided to do something that makes me happy,” Zheng Fa nodded.

“What’s that?” Gao Yuan asked curiously.

“You’ve studied math for a while—I think today’s a good day for a surprise exam, to celebrate!”

Gao Yuan whirled to face Zheng Fa.

Seeing Zheng Fa’s genuine smile, his face slowly formed a question mark: “You use exams to have fun?”

“No,” Zheng Fa replied sincerely, and utterly heartlessly: “I use you guys to have fun.”

“No, I’m using you for my amusement,” Zheng Fa replied sincerely, yet utterly inhumanly.