Upon hearing the professor’s teasing, Zheng Qing forced a bitter smile.
"I deserved it."
The young public-funded student muttered, once again flashing back to the slender Red Sky Pillar on the Black Prison Battlefield, the wall of the inner fortress crushed beneath it, and the scattered figures beneath the wall, unable to help letting out a deep sigh.
"A very interesting gift."
The professor repeated, holding the pot of mushrooms in his hands, moving it into the sunlight for a closer inspection: "See, this is a shade-loving plant, sunlight will make it curl up its cap, covered with red spots all over... just a little sun, and it will die."
Zheng Qing watched the Death Cap slowly curl its cap under the sunlight without speaking. The reaction of the Death Cap to sunlight was sowhat like a mimosa reacting to a touch, except, compared to ordinary plants, magical plants react more sensitively. This was in sharp contrast to the changes he experienced after becoming a wizard.
When he was still an ordinary high school student, he was particularly sensitive to slight changes in the outside world; but after he beca a wizard and experienced many things, he began to feel a bit dull.
Yet, the Dean of Jiuyou Academy did not mind the subtle feelings in the boy’s heart as he raised the pot of Death Cap, having other intentions.
"Mushrooms are a very special kind of life form."
The professor carefully examined the shriveling fungus in the sunlight, paused after starting to speak, then continued: "They grow in the dark underworld, always accompanied by the breath of death but never truly die... from life to death, and then grow again from the decaying corpses... this is an ancient cycle."
Cycle.
Zheng Qing inexplicably thought of a snake biting its own tail, then of that fat wizard Sepulano from Alpha Academy, thinking of his brother who had turned into a Pig Demon, that brutal scene he first saw upon stepping into the wizard world.
"But they really died."
Zheng Qing, anxious and sowhat rude, interrupted the Dean of Jiuyou Academy, his voice sowhat weary: "Because of my mistake, they really died."
"Sorry, I know it’s sensitive."
The professor put down the pot of mushrooms, looked at the boy gently: "But I must tell you, death is more complex than you imagine... I won’t say it’s a great adventure or a new journey. I can only tell you, it’s not fixed; for wizards, death holds a higher aning."
"Just like this pot of Death Cap, throughout its ti, life and death are intertwined. Sotis a beginning is an end, and sotis an end is a new beginning... In the late seventeenth century, a famous wizard during Charles II’s reign, Joseph Granville, said a very famous phrase — ’People die not because they yield to angels nor submit to death, but because their will is too weak to sustain themselves to live.’
"Today, I give it to you."
"People fall into despair not because they yield to angels or succumb to death, but because their will is not firm enough to sustain an increasingly powerful soul."
"In short, these heavy topics, you can find answers yourself in the library after you recover."
Saying this, Professor Yao patted the boy on the shoulder, the seriousness on his face swept away, smiling mischievously: "Now, we can totally discuss lighter topics... Such as the owner of those two pots of flowers, Student Jiang Yu, as well as Su Councilor."
After pausing for a few seconds, he seed to rember sothing, raised his eyebrows: "If I’m not mistaken, you have a good relationship with Student Elena as well? I quite like these girls... of course, not in the way you do."
Zheng Qing blushed, opened his mouth, wanting to argue, but was cut off by the professor’s firm gesture.
"I understand, I understand."
The professor took out a pipe, put it in his mouth, chuckled: "I was young once too... Young people, with broad hearts and active minds... but as soone who has been through this, I remind you, everything should be within your capacity, know when to stop... like Su Councilor, there aren’t ten thousand, but at least eight thousand outstanding wizards in the wizard world pursuing him, and if they knew..."
"It’s not what you think." The boy had to raise his voice, interrupting the professor’s ’nonsense’: "We are innocent!"
The professor blinked, puffing on his pipe.
Ptoo.
He blew out a puff of smoke, shaking his head: "That’s no fun... Perhaps ordinary wizards didn’t hear it, but among the many great wizards present, including great demons, all can attest to what Su Councilor said. Do I need to retrieve so mory? Or, should I bring that little fox in front of you? I rember it’s called Neptune or Poseidon?"
Zheng Qing was left speechless, unable to respond for a mont.
Luckily, this was a hospital room.
Smoking was not allowed in a hospital room.
Professor Yao’s smoke ring had just been blown out for less than three seconds when dozens of Sprites sward in, grabbing the elder wizard’s hair, collar, and robe hem, shrieking, flinging him out.
This greatly eased the young public-funded student’s mind.
...
...
A group of Sprites naturally didn’t have the ability to throw a Legendary Great Wizard out of the hospital room, unless he volunteered. Zheng Qing watched Professor Yao’s departing figure, suddenly feeling that the pressure buried deep in his heart seed to leave together with those Sprites, becoming much lighter.
He turned back, looking at the sepulchral Poisonous Fly Agaric placed by the professor on the windowsill, covered in red spots, nearly withered.
After a long while, he murmured to himself: "Death... Speaking of it so simply... Death is not like cooking a steak, with a difference between dium and dium-well..."
Clap clap clap.
Light clapping sounded beside him.
Zheng Qing was startled, turned around, and saw Mr. Wu sohow had entered his hospital room, sitting cross-legged on his bed, peeling a plump orange.
Upon seeing the orange, he imdiately detected the fragrant aroma diffusing throughout the hospital room.
Noticing the boy’s astonished gaze, Mr. Wu raised the orange in his hand, smiling: "Want a slice? The taste is excellent, makes one feel as if they have tasted life marinated in sunlight..."
"Sir!"
Zheng Qing’s eyes revealed a hint of surprise, wanting to rush over yet feeling a bit inappropriate, raising and lowering his arm, appearing sowhat restrained. In contrast, the shadow at his feet was much more impudent, a few slender shadows stretched from Zheng Qing’s shadow, clinging to Mr. Wu’s robe corner like an octopus, also a series of ink spots splattered from the shadow, like a fountain, very much like scenes of crying in cartoons.
Mr. Wu stuffed the last few slices of orange into his mouth.
Then wiped his hands, comfortingly patting the shadow clinging to his robe corner.
"Don’t worry, you are still free."
After comforting, he raised his head, looked at Zheng Qing, with a satisfied look in his eyes: "That was a good taphor just now, death is not cooking a steak... dead is dead. It’s always perfectly, completely, without any discount. It’s not romantic at all but the most brutally real."
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