Chapter 199: Turquoise and Instruments

When leaving with the holy text, Kraft found Kup and Yin Feng waiting beneath the rose trellis.

The young woman he had seen earlier was also there, explaining to the two—mainly Yin Feng—the virtues of this red-core, pink-petal variety and the key points of its cultivation, trying to pick a flower and offer it to the girl.

Noticing someone approaching, she withdrew her hand in annoyance; her waist-tightened, pale-yellow layered gown swirled like a giant bell-shaped bloom as she turned lightly.

"Welcome to Dunling, professors of Rivers University. The Xiguo family greets you. I apologize for not greeting you sooner—it's just that this child is so adorable, she's..." Her turquoise eyes moved between the three before her, visibly clouded with the glinting confusion of a gemstone's surface.

"Is she someone's daughter?"

If Kraft were to score this family's greeting method, he'd give nine points—the remaining ninety-one would be deducted for that sentence.

"She is my student. Assuming relationships between others is impolite, Miss Xiguo." He already had one student whose thinking was bizarre despite appearing quiet and well-behaved; the mere thought of her being his junior—or worse, a blood relative—was enough to shorten his cardiovascular and cerebral lifespan by years, "May I ask your name?"

"Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself—I'm Frances Galat Xiguo." This was the second "sorry" since their meeting, yet Frances showed no sign of apology; she even reached out to pluck a handful of the girl's fine chestnut hair, which the child deftly avoided.

"I've met some professors' students, but never one so young—this young scholar must possess extraordinary ability."

"So may I know your name, exceptionally intelligent young lady? In exchange, I can give you this." Frances removed a turquoise brooch perfectly matching her image, placing it in her palm, hoping it would prove more effective than the roses.

Yin Feng was unmoved, glancing at Kraft for guidance—she wanted to immediately shake off this stranger who had inserted himself so brazenly.

But the brooch triggered Feiernan's limited aristocratic-network knowledge, reminding him of which clan this Xiguo family belonged to: "Turquoise Xiguo? The family that made its fortune in turquoise trade?"

"Precisely. I'm honored that the leader of Rivers Medical College remembers us. Our business has since expanded to all kinds of jewelry—if your wife or daughter has any needs, please feel free to contact us." She smiled in reply, unashamed of her family's commerce.

"You know me?"

"Of course, Professor Feiernan. If I recall correctly, you are the only professor at Rivers University of the same generation as Professor Mo Lisen." She wisely avoided mentioning having read his published papers—topics that invited false familiarity and were easily trapped by follow-up questions—sticking to facts while subtly promoting her family's products.

"Beyond custom jewelry, the Xiguo family also undertakes precision instrument customization and collaborates with Dunling University. If you have any needs, we can provide them at cost price."

"Our college is not yet at the point of purchasing equipment from outside." Feiernan firmly rejected the pitch; if he accepted now, next time she promoted to others, it would become "in collaboration with the two most authoritative institutions."

Undeterred by the failed exchange, Frances turned smoothly to the next person: "Then this must be Rivers University's youngest professor ever—Professor Kraft? By the way, your student looks remarkably sharp."

She subtly drew closer to Yin Feng, clearly fond of children—possessing the lethal allure of a perfectly fluffy feline toward plush-loving humans, impossible to resist when so close yet untouchable.

"My student doesn't care for contact with strangers," Kraft offered, feeling it necessary to warn her, lest she be gently brushed away—Yin Feng's version of brushing away.

A misunderstanding was minor; an impromptu surgery was major.

"I'm quite interested in custom instruments—could you tell me what kinds of instruments you've customized, Ms. Frances?"

"Ah, that's too bad." Reluctantly withdrawing her hand, Frances poured out everything Kraft wanted to know: "We customize all manner of measuring containers, especially glass ones, as well as pipettes, scalpels, forceps, and tweezers."

"Have Dunling University professors also commissioned instruments from you?"

Frances realized she had successfully connected with Rivers' inner circle, though she couldn't fathom what had given her the edge: "Yes, I came here specifically to deliver the final batch of orders."

"I'm very interested. Give me your workshop address—I'll visit as soon as I can to see your existing products." Kraft had never been so grateful for this era's lack of personal data privacy.

"That's wonderful."

【That's wonderful】

On the return carriage, Kraft eagerly opened the holy text.

"Professor Kraft, are you really going to read this compilation of the most absurd stories from the past several centuries? I thought you were just joking." Professor Lin Deng voiced his personal opinion on the book borrowing.

"Merely curiosity. Aren't you curious why Professor Mo Lisen took interest in the holy text?"

"When most people realize their bodies can no longer sustain their minds, they inevitably cling to things claiming to transcend all—seeking to extend their thoughts or reunite with the dead, even though many once scoffed at such notions. Yet at the very moment they commit to this, their thoughts have already died."

Feiernan cracked open one eyelid while resting his eyes, the day's itinerary leaving him slightly drained: "I hope I never reach that point."

"After all, we can't expect everyone's will to be as unyielding as the Duke's, can we? Consider it a beautifully bound collection of stories." Pages fluttered beneath his fingers like brushing over a broad-leafed lawn; he sensed subtle differences—the owner had left no annotations, yet the act of turning pages itself left traces.

Sections frequently opened and pressed flat were noticeably looser than the rest. After flipping back and forth three times, he quickly identified the pages with anomalous texture.

Pinching the target pages, he spread the book open on his lap, expecting to read words like "ring" or "angel"—anything tied to the deeper layers would inevitably connect to religion: heretical cults worshipping living shield machines, orthodox faiths venerating celestial bodies; mysticism remained an endless wellspring of inspiration for explaining the unknown.

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Discovering a liquid beyond imagination, causing a lifelong-troubled professor to embrace creationism, was not strange at all.

With this thought, he opened the page, mentally prepared for anything—demons, monsters, or worse.

【The seven sons of this household were all tall, handsome, and extraordinary; each time they approached Saint Yeg, Saint Yeg doubted whether this was the king chosen by the Lord. Yet the Lord's answer was always: "No."】

【Their hearts were insufficient—they could not pass the trial to pull up that sword…】

Kraft suspected he had misread; he flipped back to the beginning and stopped again at the same passage.

It was familiar content—well-known to him and most others—one of the most recent and historically plausible sections of the holy text: the chosen one drew forth the stone sword now symbolizing the royal house, and the land known as Nos was thus unified.