1039: Chapter 101 Laboratory Work 1039: Chapter 101 Laboratory Work “Zheng Qing?!”
Professor Montreya scrutinized the young wizard in front of him with his characteristically stern gaze, his tone firm and yet tinged with a hint of curiosity.
“Yes, Professor Montreya.
It’s a pleasure to et you.”
Zheng Qing clasped his hands in front of his stomach, nodding slightly with restrained courtesy as he unfolded the reply slip given to him by Professor Montreya and handed it over—just after passing through the bronze small door, the Bull Head that served as the doorkeeper had spat the slip back out, returning it to the young wizard.
Professor Montreya extended his hand but did not take the slip.
Instead, he reached out and grasped the cost student’s wrist.
Zheng Qing’s arm trembled slightly but ultimately he did not withdraw his hand.
“Su Councilor said you want to understand yourself as much as possible,” the professor said, pinching Zheng Qing’s wrist between two fingers, as though taking his pulse, but also as if holding him to prevent escape.
“Yes…” Zheng Qing nodded repeatedly, wanting to offer more explanation, only to be cut off by Professor Montreya.
“That’s not easy,” the professor shook his head, apparently not optimistic about Zheng Qing’s idea, “It’s not the only hard thing in this world, but to ‘recognize oneself’ surely ranks among them.
Many people want to recognize themselves, but very few manage to do so.”
Zheng Qing did not dispute this.
“I just want to check if there is any special bloodline in my body,” Zheng Qing carefully chose his words, both to make his request clear to Professor Montreya and to avoid arousing his keen interest—altogether, it was a very skillful conversation—added the young wizard:
“Because I seem to be quite sensitive to strong ntal stimuli, often getting hyposphagma, but the school dical center found no lesions…
and sotis, so magical creatures seem very interested in my scent…
Dean Yao knows about this; he previously suggested that I consult with you.”
“Oh, Old Yao said so too?” Professor Montreya’s gaze finally shifted sowhat, “What a pity, it seems we can’t just casually dissect you on the operating table now.”
Zheng Qing turned pale with fright.
A few muffled chuckles ca from the black-robed wizards at the nearby experintal table.
“What are you laughing at!
Have you finished your tasks?
Do you think working 996 is not addictive enough and want to stay in the lab 24/7?” Professor Montreya scowled, glancing at his assistants.
The laughter stopped abruptly.
With a glance from the corner of his eye, Zheng Qing saw that the wizards had all resud their grave expressions and efficient movents, as if the laughter had just been an illusion.
Professor Montreya, without further reprimanding his assistants, released Zheng Qing’s wrist and turned to walk deeper into the laboratory.
There, a remarkably large experintal table was positioned, with no one sitting behind it, evidently the professor’s own workstation.
Zheng Qing stood dumbfounded behind the professor, watching his receding figure, unsure of what to do.
“Hurry up and follow!”
Behind the neighboring experintal table, a round face lifted, struggling with lip-read signals to Zheng Qing—just a dozen seconds earlier, he was the first wizard to laugh quietly.
Zheng Qing exhaled quietly.
The subdued laughter of the assistant wizards behind the experintal desk and Professor Montreya’s sowhat la joke had eased his tension a little; he wasn’t shaking anymore from the re handshake with the professor.
He adjusted the hem of his robe and took a few quick steps to catch up with Professor Montreya.
“How long have you been studying Magic Script?” the professor asked as he walked, tossing a question at Zheng Qing.
“Six, seven months now.” Zheng Qing calculated the ti since enrollnt in his mind and quietly replied.
“That is to say, before entering the academy, you had no foundation in Magic Script, right?” Professor Montreya sighed.
Zheng Qing softly acknowledged, feeling sowhat embarrassed.
“Have you studied Talisman?” the Professor asked again.
“Yes!
I have studied!” Zheng Qing imdiately straightened up, his voice growing much louder, “All one thousand two hundred ninety-six Basic Runes, I can write them from mory.”
Finally, the Professor stopped walking.
At the sa ti, the two had already arrived in front of the large experintal platform.
He turned his head, looking at the Young Wizard with surprise, as if seeing him for the first ti.
“Oh, you are the first-year cost student from Dean Yao’s faculty who has received the rlin dal, right!” Professor Montreya suddenly realized, “I heard Little Zhang ntion this…
Hmm, very good, this will be much easier.”
Little Zhang must be Professor Zhang from Talisman Studies.
Zheng Qing felt his face grow a shade darker—he ant to say that after talking for so long, the Professor hadn’t figured out who he was!
“Sit!”
Professor Montreya dragged out a soft cushioned chair with a white leather covering from behind the experintal platform and then, gripping Zheng Qing’s shoulders, pressed him into the seat, “Tilt your head back, open your eyes…
and look at that big lamp overhead.”
Zheng Qing dutifully lifted his head, opened his eyes wide, and looked towards the circular chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
Inside the white lampshade, shimring specks seed to drift about—whether there were fireflies inside or it was just an illusion from his blurry vision, he couldn’t tell.
Professor Montreya took out a brand-new pair of silk gloves, eyeglasses with multiple lenses, and a tiny glass bottle from his pocket.
Inside the bottle were a few specks the size of rice grains, gently floating.
The Professor set up the eyeglasses, donned the silk gloves, then drew a tiny speck from the glass bottle with a straw and touched it into Zheng Qing’s eye, “Don’t blink…
When did the red scars at the back of your eye appear?”
When the speck entered his eye, it didn’t feel like gritty sand, but rather as if his eyeballs were soaking in a hot spring, warm and seemingly massaged by multiple tiny hands.
For so reason, the image of Doctor Duzem scooping out his eyeballs and washing them in water flashed through Zheng Qing’s mind.
“I was fine during lunch yesterday…
but by evening, my eyes turned red,” whispered Zheng Qing, his lips barely moving.
“Last night?” the Professor furrowed his brows, murmuring, “Last night’s irritation…
were you frightened by Satoguya’s Big Eye?”
Zheng Qing was stunned, suddenly feeling tears well up in his eyes.
“You saw it too, right?!” He opened his eyes wide, staring intently at the Professor above him wearing a face mask, his voice filled with excitent, “I always said that last night…”
“Don’t move, or you might poke your eyes out!” he warned sternly, stifling the Young Wizard’s outburst.
Startled, Zheng Qing froze, his eyes as wide open as possible, not daring to make a single movent.
Professor Montreya did not continue the topic; instead, he attentively observed the condition of Zheng Qing’s eyeballs, while occasionally instructing the nearby Feather Pen to jot down the stream of numbers and terms he called out.
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