Chapter 18: Kraft's First Lesson

The next day, Ryan saw Kraft step out of the room looking exhausted.

"Didn't sleep well?"

"No, I read books for half the night, wanting to fulfill my duties as a lecturer before leaving." Kraft yawned. "Ryan, could I ask you to go find what we need to buy on your own today? I can entrust my money to you."

As the saying goes, one should not accept rewards without merit; taking benefits and then running away seemed a bit embarrassing, so Kraft still wanted to make some contribution before leaving.

He took out his money pouch, grabbed a few silver coins from inside, then handed the rest along with the pouch to Ryan.

"No problem. Before that, shall we find something to eat together?" Ryan was just thinking of how to find a reason to act alone when Kraft himself voluntarily made the request, which conveniently allowed him to go meet the stonemason alone; the carved stone hand with runes he had requested yesterday should be ready to pick up by this afternoon.

After finishing breakfast, the two went out and split up. Ryan rode his horse and quickly disappeared from Kraft's sight again, which made him feel a bit puzzled, sensing that his cousin had already locked onto the target.

However, he quickly cast aside this small problem, clipped on his badge, and decided to walk to the nearby academy. He could use the time on the road to reorganize the content he had thought about yesterday for his lecture.

The things he prepared to discuss actually had some clues when he read that book "Humoral Theory"; after seeing "Human Anatomy" had already drawn the yellow fluid, namely bile, from the liver and gallbladder to the intestines, the entire line of thought for the lecture could be settled.

Logically speaking, even dancing with shackles within the current framework, it could indeed explain why patients presented with jaundiced skin and whites of the eyes due to "excess yellow fluid," yet remained emaciated, edematous, and suffered from indigestion. The content of "Human Anatomy" was sufficient for him to explain this.

In the soft morning light, Kraft, dressed in black medical school attire with a silver badge on his chest and carrying three books under his arm, walked slowly toward the academy, blending into the various scholar robes not far from the entrance, feeling no different from attending classes during his university days.

As the outline was organized, he began to actively supplement more knowledge that might be involved, rehearsing possible questions and challenges. From the third hepatic portal down to the first hepatic portal, then along the common hepatic duct to where it merged with the cystic duct into the common bile duct, the location and contents of the cystic triangle, even blood vessels, lymphatics, and ligaments he had not carefully memorized, were all added to the imagined anatomical diagram.

That abnormal sensation that had appeared several times before descended upon him again; the clear and unmistakable memory made him feel his mind was simply not his own.

Kraft could no longer remember his name over there, but the painful memory of reciting texts still remained. If such memories truly existed, he absolutely would not have needed to stay up late preparing for exams; moreover, he had only glanced at those contents back then, and yesterday's still somewhat crude "Human Anatomy" could not possibly provide these things.

He almost fearfully continued trying to pursue more content in his mind to verify his conjecture. Those things he thought had faded during the long passage of time were, unknown to him when, neatly listed there. It was as if someone had broken into his most private storage room while he was unaware, arbitrarily repainting the faded murals and organizing the scattered books back into place.

Lost items he thought he could never obtain again were placed in the very spot he had just checked, simply because he thought of them.

He could not understand how this happened; he even recalled the page numbers in the book. The black-and-white illustrations were right before his eyes, numerical labels marked on the diagrams, and the names of corresponding parts neatly arranged beside them.

Kraft finally confirmed the existence of the abnormality within him. If nothing was wrong, it was after that inexplicable high fever, as if walls had been torn down, consciousness released from a narrow and restricted space, a certain innate limitation cancelled, allowing it to expand freely.

Its expansion was not controlled by subjective thoughts; once triggered, it would seek, it would dig, finding more information from every possible place. Signals collected by eyes, ears, touch, and all receptors, along with dust-covered things deep in memory that were hard to reach, were all within the territory of this liberated monster.

There was only one thing it could not find no matter what—where it came from.

Fever, strange dreams, subconscious avoidance; after a series of events, consciousness began its infinite expansion, yet it could never touch what happened at the origin of everything, only knowing of its existence without knowing what it was.

Consciousness uncontrollably concentrated on that point; the light before his eyes dimmed, the crowd's noise drifted away from him, and Intense weightlessness struck. He understood this was the price for the meager benefit he had gained; he would never be able to escape an existence he himself could not explain.

He thought he had left that place the next day, but now he was somewhat uncertain. Even though this consciousness exhausted all the information he knew, he still stood in the unknowable, unpredictable darkness, gazing at the long night his sight could not penetrate; the invisible thing was right before him, yet he could never touch it, and even perceiving its existence was already the limit.

"Lecturer Kraft?"

"Kraft!"

Light returned instantly, as if everything just now was purely an illusion, and even a faint thought suggested it was just fainting caused by low blood sugar.

Kraft rejected this thought, blinked, and readjusted to the light. What appeared before his eyes was a head of brown hair; he looked down at Kraft with a worried expression. Severe pain came from the back of his head, and he realized he was lying on the ground at the entrance of the medical school.

"Lu Xiusi?" Kraft found he was not panicking; his emotions seemed to still be floating in mid-air, not yet returned, with only a thin remnant of fear remaining. His voice was so calm it did not sound like his own, just like when he woke from the dream last time.

Instinct tried to erase what it could not accept, but this time it failed; Kraft grasped the truth, or at least a corner of it, that terrible corner he had to face.

"Just call me Kraft. It's just some low blood sugar; can you help me up?" Without any obstacle, he fabricated an excuse, reached out his hand to Lu Xiusi, and signaled for him to pull him up.

"Uh, what do you mean by 'blood' and 'sugar'?" Lu Xiusi reached out and pulled Kraft up; the worry on his face had not yet faded, but a new compound word diverted his attention.

"Nothing, just a new term; we'll have plenty of time to talk about it later." Kraft brushed the dust off his clothes. "I seem to have forgotten to schedule a time today; could you tell me when it would be suitable for me to fulfill my duties as a lecturer?" He even smiled at Lu Xiusi to dispel his doubts.

"Of course. If you don't mind, please sit in an empty classroom for a while first; I'll go tell the other students."

The strange and inexplicable feeling lingered, but at least for today, Kraft felt he could finish the lecture first before considering these things with no clear lead.

"I'm so glad so many people came to listen to my lecture; I bet my teacher never thought I would have such a day." In the formal classroom, which was slightly more spacious than yesterday's anatomy room, Kraft opened with self-mockery, and a slight chuckle rose from the audience below.

"Today I want to discuss a theory proposed by a senior, of course, confirmed based on some reasons that cannot be explicitly stated.

Everyone should already have a fairly deep understanding of the book "Humoral Theory," which mentions jaundice caused by excess yellow fluid, as well as patients simultaneously exhibiting anorexia, emaciation, and diarrhea after eating greasy food.

The mainstream view has always held that this situation contradicts the function of yellow fluid digesting food, but in fact, "Human Anatomy" has already provided an explanation, though the author himself was unaware of it." He turned around and, on the dark wooden board behind him, used small pieces of chalk to draw the bile pathway from the liver all the way to the descending part of the duodenum.

"Actually, it is very obvious; everyone must realize that this yellow fluid, from the liver to the intestines, has only one narrow path it can take.

Then why couldn't it be that it simply never had the chance to reach where it should go? It could be blocked at some point along this duct, or even fail to exit the liver and be discharged into the intestines; naturally, the digestive ability would be greatly weakened.

Of course, I must say there are more complex mechanisms at play here, and the causes of these symptoms are by no means so simple. However, what we are doing today is just to discuss these two situations...

... In short, once we understand that multiple causes can lead to yellow fluid accumulating in the body and not entering the intestines, the claim that jaundice contradicts emaciation and anorexia naturally collapses.

I believe that understanding human anatomy is an extremely important link in the development of medicine, which will explain and overturn countless existing things. To gain further understanding, even breaking through part of tradition is acceptable.

Thank you all; my lecture ends here. I hope it is helpful."

Kraft finished his lecture. The classroom was unusually quiet; the imagined questions and challenges did not appear, and only the sound of scratching pens could be heard below. There was not yet a custom of applause here; students' respect for the knowledge transmitter was reflected in solemn silence and serious writing. Instead, Kraft spotted Professor Kalman below, lost in thought again.

Noticing Kraft looking at him, Professor Kalman carefully stood up without disturbing the students around him who were still thinking and taking notes.

"Perhaps a lecturer's position is too stingy for you; I've never seen a family with this level of talent remain obscure." He leaned in and whispered, "However, the only thing I can offer for now is this; perhaps you yourself will sooner or later become a professor."

Kalman paused, saw that the students around were not paying attention to this side, lowered his voice again, and asked Kraft in a volume barely audible: "Did you mean that by 'breaking through part of tradition'?"