Chapter 197: The Tour Group

The facts were indeed much as suspected. The scars left by the fire on the Dunling University Medical College had not healed in months; instead, they showed signs of infection, suppuration, and chronic persistence.

After escorting the visiting delegation to the banquet hall, Professor Samuel exchanged pleasantries with the other professors and lecturers, then excused himself under the pretext of busy affairs, preparing to leave. Even Kraft, as the primary representative of the technical exchange society, received only minimal extra attention.

He offered perfunctory praise for the new academic group's abundant achievements and its young, capable staff, his wandering gaze revealing something more worthy of his time than mere formalities.

"Considering you've just arrived in Dunling and are likely fatigued from travel, the schedule over the next few days will leave ample time for rest," he explained.

【Not yet arranged】

"We welcome free exchange and academic discussion among you, especially regarding internal medicine, drug properties, and pathological research. But please ensure your methods remain within bounds unlikely to provoke controversy."

【Not including surgery】

In short, with no schedule set and the Tribunal inspecting every few days, everyone had to tone it down—certain gray-area activities were off-limits.

Professor Lin Deng coughed deliberately to interrupt, signaling he wished to speak: "I have a question, an important one—your answer may determine our society's arrangements for a long time to come."

"Go ahead."

"I haven't been to Dunling in years. Are the same places still worth visiting? If nothing's changed, I'll just take my students straight there."

A wave of laughter broke out across the room, even among the Dunling side. Amid the laughter, Lin Deng pushed back his chair and led his students out, taking the reddest apple from the fruit basket on the table as he left.

Kraft hesitated, feeling he had nothing left to do here, and rose to leave as well, slipping out of the hall disguised as a member of the surgery society amid the commotion.

But outside, Lin Deng did not head straight for the tourist spots as he claimed. Instead, he moved with familiar ease to a staircase and prepared to ascend. "I need to visit an old friend first. You all may disperse—this is your one chance to come to Dunling. Go wherever you like. Don't follow me. Just be back before dinner."

The students, already restless, eagerly took their leave. As members of the surgery society, they had never expected to learn much in tightly controlled Dunling. With no schedule and their professor granting them half a day's freedom, it was perfect—they skipped straight to the paid-tour phase.

As the crowd dispersed, three members of the Tuberculosis and Rare Diseases Society emerged from behind. Kraft spread his hands: "I thought there was nothing worth staying for either. Mind if I join you for the tour later?"

"Before that, would you be interested in touring the college first?"

"Perfect."

Perhaps due to its remoteness, they encountered no faculty, students, or inquiries, and proceeded straight up the stairs to the fourth-floor corridor.

A classic, minimalist layout: one side featured rows of rooms, their sizes suggesting teaching and laboratory use; now empty, with no one entering or exiting.

The other side opened to windows overlooking the garden enclosed by the building. From here, the trimmed tree-towers and spherical hedges formed delicate, intricate landscapes, symmetrically interlinked, arranged in concentric circles. Main paths radiated outward, branching into numerous narrow trails that sliced through the colorful flowerbeds.

【Given the current environment, this site may shut down at any moment—please migrate promptly to the permanently operated Huanyuan app】

Lin Deng paused briefly to orient himself, then walked purposefully in one direction—toward the center of the main building, beneath the dome.

A heavy door blocked the corridor. He grasped the handle and pushed; a dull, metallic clanking echoed from behind the thick panel.

"Locked? Even against our own people?"

"You've been here before?" To visit an old friend here? This routine—avoiding the main entrance, climbing the back staircase to the top floor—was far too practiced to be the work of someone unfamiliar with Dunling.

Lin Deng tugged again, confirming he hadn't misremembered the opening direction. "Someone showed me this route before. It bypasses the central spiral staircase and was used when the dome was closed to the public."

"For experiments?" It was hard to understand: what would a Rivers member do sneaking into Dunling's medical college labs on a day they were sealed?

"Not experiments. Just sightseeing." Lin Deng leaned against the door, his eyes filled with nostalgia. "I might forget other places, but this one stands out—deeply memorable. If you get close to local students, they'll tell you: legend says this is where 'Human Anatomy' was written."

"Really?" Kraft felt a quiet sense of superiority. According to the manuscript from the Forest Church, Edward's final writing location was likely not within the university at all, but atop the bell tower of some church.

Discovering hidden historical secrets was fascinating—especially when seeing everyone misled by "credible rumors." Too bad this secret could only be buried inside him.

"True. It's a pity—there were still some artifacts from Edward's time preserved here. Now they're all destroyed. Centuries later, we could have pointed to those objects and told future generations: 'Edward once observed dissections right here on this table.'"

He made a vague pointing gesture, imagining the scene. "By the way, I almost forgot—remember to preserve the earliest set of ether bottles."

After a moment of reflection, Lin Deng suppressed his emotions and gave Kraft specific instructions to safeguard the current equipment, then abandoned the idea of finding another route to the dome laboratory.

"Looks like we can't get in today. Interested in visiting other places? I haven't been here long, but Dunling doesn't change often."

Kraft looked out the window. Behind the white stone rooftops, a tall, gray-black spire loomed, asserting its omnipresent presence. A distant bell chimed, trembling, triggering a chain reaction—metallic clinks from nearby and faraway towers chimed in harmony.

"How many bell towers does Dunling have?"

"That stumps me. Why not ask how many stars are in the sky, or how many bones a person has?"

"206."

"Correct—assuming a typical adult human. Children and certain special cases may differ." Lin Deng glanced with mild surprise at the one who answered—Kraft's male attendant. "Is this your student? My apologies—I assumed he was your attendant."

"Learning more never hurts."

"True," nodded the Rivers surgeon. "Dunling's bell towers may outnumber human bones. You couldn't visit them all in an afternoon. But only one is famous. Visit that one, then head to Knight Island nearby—you'll still make it back for dinner."

"The Cathedral of the Holy Mother. Dunling's tallest bell tower—this is it. We saw it from the ship." Lin Deng stepped down from the college-provided carriage and gazed up at the building casting its shadow.

Up close, the overwhelming scale of the structure was magnified by its deliberately towering design. Only at this distance could one discern the preserved original hues within the layered, stepped architecture—constructed from light stone similar to the college's, yet darkened over centuries into a solemn, contrasting tone.

This deepened color naturally merged with the building's façade design, unintentionally—or perhaps intentionally—enhancing its relief and creating dynamic contrasts of light and shadow. Within the eternal, layered structure of marble and snowstone, semicircular recesses were adorned with narrative reliefs.

The carvings mostly depicted standing figures, echoing the building's upward momentum, conveying a sense of soaring ascent, converging at the angelic wings of the spire, pointing directly toward the sky, seemingly within reach.

Most distinctive were the tall, slightly bowed female figures, cradling a softly sculpted swaddling cloth in both arms, positioned high beneath the outstretched wings—only their arms visible.

"I must admit, their taste is still sound. It would be even more beautiful if we could climb the bell tower."

"By the way, does this cathedral's bell tower have a hunchback bell-ringer?"

"How do you know that?" Lin Deng looked at Kraft in confusion. Where had he gotten this tourist trivia? This wasn't the kind of detail a first-time visitor would know.

"There's an unverified story, very old, told only locally. It says he was abandoned at the church's doorstep, raised by a priest, born deformed and ugly but kind-hearted. He married a woman famed for her beauty, and with his adoptive father's blessing, they lived happily ever after."

"Huh?"

"What's wrong? Why do you look so surprised?"

"It's quite unexpected—but I love this story. Thank you." Kraft laughed uproariously, offering no explanation for the private amusement he couldn't share. "Don't mind me—everyone has their own peculiar sense of humor, right?"