[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies":3,"chapter-notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-18":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Notes on Kraft Anomalous Studies",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2283496,4467,"Chapter 18: Chapter Seventeen: Kraft","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-18",18,"\u003Cp>The next day, Ryan saw Kraft walk out of his room looking exhausted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Didn’t sleep well?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No, I read half the night, wanting to fulfill my duty as a lecturer before leaving,” Kraft yawned. “Ryan, could you go find what we need to buy alone? I’ll entrust you with my money.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the saying goes, one should not receive benefits without merit; taking the money and running felt slightly shameful, so Kraft still wanted to contribute something before departing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pulled out his money pouch, grabbed a few silver coins, then handed the rest of the coins and the pouch to Ryan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No problem. Before that, let’s get something to eat first?” Ryan had been thinking of a way to act alone, and Kraft had just volunteered the request—perfect timing, since he could now go meet the stonemason alone. The carved rune stone hand he’d ordered yesterday should be ready by afternoon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After finishing breakfast, the two parted ways. Ryan mounted his horse and vanished from Kraft’s sight once more, leaving him with a faint suspicion—that his cousin had already fixed his target.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he quickly dismissed the thought, pinned on his badge, and decided to walk to the nearby academy. The path would give him time to reorganize the content he’d planned to lecture on.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His ideas had begun forming long before he read that book on Humorism; after seeing how the *Structure of the Human Body* had already mapped the pathway of yellow fluid—from liver to gallbladder to intestines—he had his entire lecture outline settled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Logically speaking, even within the current framework, bound like a dancer in chains, it could still explain why patients showed jaundiced skin and sclera from excess yellow fluid, yet remained emaciated, swollen, and suffering indigestion. The content of *Structure of the Human Body* was sufficient for him to explain it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the soft morning light, Kraft walked slowly toward the academy in his black medical academy robe, silver badge pinned to his chest, three books tucked under his arm. Near the entrance, he blended into the crowd of scholars’ robes, feeling no different from his university days.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With his outline complete, he began actively filling in additional knowledge, rehearsing possible questions and objections. From the third hepatic portal down to the first, along the common hepatic duct to its junction with the cystic duct into the common bile duct, the location and contents of the cystic triangle—even vessels, lymphatics, and ligaments he’d never memorized—appeared in his imagined anatomical diagram.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That familiar strange sensation descended upon him again; the crystal-clear memories made his mind feel alien, as if it no longer belonged to him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kraft had long forgotten his name on the other side, but the agony of memorizing still lingered. If he truly possessed such memories, he’d never have needed to stay up all night preparing for exams—especially since he’d only glanced at these topics back then, and yesterday’s crude *Structure of the Human Body* could never have contained such details.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He nearly trembled as he pushed further, searching his mind for more content to confirm his suspicion. Things he believed had faded over years now stood neatly arranged, as if someone had slipped into his most private storage room and repainted the faded murals, re-shelved the scattered books.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Objects he thought lost forever had been placed exactly where he’d just checked—because he’d thought of them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He couldn’t comprehend how this was happening. He even recalled page numbers; black-and-white illustrations appeared before his eyes, numbered labels marked on the diagrams, corresponding anatomical names neatly aligned beside them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kraft finally confirmed the abnormality within himself. If he hadn’t erred, it was after that inexplicable fever—he felt as if walls had been torn down, his consciousness released from a narrow, confined space, freed from some innate restriction, allowed to expand wildly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Its expansion was beyond his control; once triggered, it seized, excavated, scavenged for information from every possible source. Signals gathered by eyes, ears, touch, and all senses—long buried, unreachable relics in the depths of memory—now lay within the territory of this liberated monster.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was only one thing it could never find—the origin of itself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fever, strange dreams, instinctive avoidance—after a chain of events, consciousness began its infinite expansion, yet never touched the source of it all. He knew it existed, but not what it was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His awareness unconsciously converged toward that point; the light dimmed, the crowd’s noise receded, a violent sensation of weightlessness struck him. He understood: this was the price of his meager gain. He would never escape an existence he could not even name.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought he’d left that place the next day, but now he wasn’t sure. Even though this consciousness had exhausted every piece of information he knew, he still stood in unknowable, immeasurable darkness, gazing at an endless night beyond sight—something invisible lay before him, always just out of reach, and even sensing its existence had been his limit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Lecturer Kraft?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Kraft!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Light returned instantly, as if everything before had been pure illusion—even a faint thought whispered it was merely hypoglycemic fainting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kraft rejected the thought, blinked, and adjusted to the light. Before him was a brown-haired head, its owner gazing down with concern. Sharp pain pulsed at the back of his skull—he realized he was lying on the ground outside the medical academy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Lu Xiusi?” Kraft found he wasn’t alarmed; his emotions still floated somewhere distant, leaving only a thin residue of fear. His voice sounded calm, alien, just like when he’d woken from his dream last time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Instinct tried to erase what he couldn’t accept—but this time, it failed. Kraft grasped the truth, at least one corner of it—the terrible, unavoidable corner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Just call me Kraft. It’s just low blood sugar. Could you help me up?” Kraft fabricated the excuse without hesitation, extending his hand to Lu Xiusi.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Uh… what’s ‘blood’ and ‘sugar’?” Lu Xiusi pulled him up, his worry still lingering, but the new term had captured his attention.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Nothing important. Just a new term—we’ll have plenty of time to discuss it later.” Kraft brushed dust off his robe. “I seem to have forgotten to schedule a time today. When would be suitable for me to begin my duties as lecturer?” He even smiled at Lu Xiusi, easing his doubts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course. If you don’t mind, please wait in an empty classroom for a moment—I’ll inform the other students.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The strange unease lingered, but for today, Kraft decided he could finish his lecture before confronting these incomprehensible mysteries.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m delighted so many of you came to hear my lecture—I bet my own teacher never imagined I’d reach this day.” In the larger, more formal classroom—spacious compared to yesterday’s dissection hall—Kraft opened with self-deprecation. A soft ripple of laughter rose from the audience.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Today I’ll present a theory proposed by a predecessor—confirmed, of course, for reasons I cannot disclose.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>You’ve all studied *Humorism* in depth—it describes jaundiced skin and sclera from excess yellow fluid, alongside symptoms of anorexia, emaciation, and diarrhea after consuming fatty foods.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The prevailing view holds this contradicts yellow fluid’s digestive function. But *Structure of the Human Body* already provided the explanation—though its author never realized it.” He turned, and with small pieces of chalk, drew the bile pathway from liver to descending duodenum on the dark wooden board behind him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s obvious: this yellow fluid has but one narrow passage from liver to intestine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why not consider it never reached its destination? It could be blocked somewhere along this duct—or never even exited the liver, never entered the intestine—thus severely weakening digestive capacity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, I acknowledge more complex mechanisms are at play here; these symptoms aren’t this simple. But today, we’ll only discuss these two possibilities…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>… In summary, once we understand multiple causes can lead to yellow fluid stagnating inside the body without entering the intestine, the contradiction between jaundice and emaciation\u002Fanorexia naturally dissolves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I believe understanding human anatomy is a vital step in medical progress—it will explain and overturn countless old notions. To advance further, even breaking part of tradition is acceptable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thank you all. That concludes my lecture—I hope it was helpful.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kraft finished his lesson. The classroom fell unnaturally silent. No questions, no challenges—only the rustle of pens taking notes. There was still no custom of applause here; respect for knowledge-bearers was shown in solemn silence and careful writing. Yet Kraft noticed Professor Karlman seated below, lost in thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sensing Kraft’s gaze, Professor Karlman rose carefully, not disturbing the students still absorbed in their notes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Perhaps a lecturer’s position is too modest for you—I’ve never seen a family of your caliber remain obscure.” He leaned in, whispering. “But for now, this is all I can offer. Perhaps you’ll become a professor yourself soon enough.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Karlman paused, glanced around to ensure no students were listening, then lowered his voice to near inaudibility, murmuring into Kraft’s ear: “When you said ‘break part of tradition’—did you mean *that*?”\u003C\u002Fp>",1494,"2026-06-20T02:15:55.761Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","e949530a5bb2739c648934506a2b0f8baafda5036a32dffe732cf4534b521eea","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-19","notes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-chapter-17",406,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fnotes-on-kraft-anomalous-studies-cover.jpg"]