My Nascent Soul Ran Away Again

Chapter 51: Sightings

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation       Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

“Enough, that’s enough, cease this commotion!”

Chen Xu hastened forward, raising his voice to intervene.

With the academy’s grand celebration imminent, such turmoil was unacceptable.

“Senior Brother Chen.”

Upon his arrival, the ruckus immediately ceased.

As the chosen disciple of the future headmaster and the prospective chancellor of Sancai Academy, not to mention a renowned saint in a major sect, Chen Xu commanded immense respect and authority.

His words held weight, and as such, he was able to investigate the cause of the commotion with relative ease.

It was as the disciple holding the pitchfork had reported: his graduation project had been devoured by a peer’s research.

Mid-semester, with graduation merely months away, his spirit was understandably fractured.

“This isn’t an unprecedented incident. Why cause such a huge stir?” Chen Xu questioned, his sleeves fluttering.

“The Agricultural Saints Institute possesses the Heart Questioning Treasure Mirror, does it not? Both of you may petition the academy. If you can withstand the mirror’s scrutiny and prove your truthfulness, the academy will certainly grant you additional time for preparation.”

Addressing the instigator, who held a Cha spirit, Chen Xu decreed, “Your graduation will now hinge on the completion of his project, which you shall assist in. Until its completion, you shall not graduate.”

Prior to a certain individual’s attendance, Sancai Academy did not enforce graduation projects. It was only after Lu Xuan’s appearance that a wave of change had occurred.

Years ago, while instructing at the Academy, he had initiated a graduation evaluation system. Initially, it wasn’t stringent; thorough preparation usually sufficed for passing.

This system later evolved into a College Tournament, a spirited event where department graduates showcased their research on stage.

In Lu Xuan’s recollections, the tournament always revealed a few ingenious minds.

For instance, in a past assessment, a disciple from the Curse God Sect, attending for education, had cultivated a flower capable of emitting wide-range love curses. He hoped to confound his rivals and seize victory. Alas, the Love Curse’s potency fell short, as his group was filled with hot-headed males.

Without the referee’s swift intervention, he would have found himself swarmed by formidable men.

Chen Xu addressed the disruption following academy regulations, and the disciples, without dissent, returned to their respective activities.

Half an hour into his walk, Lu Xuan observed a disciple stepping outside to let his flowerpot bask in the sun.

Seeing the situation, Chen Xu explained, “This is the Spiritual Plant Cultivation Project of the Agricultural Saint Institute. The goal is to find ways to cultivate ordinary plants into spiritual flowers and herbs with minimal resource consumption.”

Many students of the institute were intrigued by this, and they employed various methods including but not limited to spiritual liquid irrigation, array catalysis, terrain radiation, and the influence of relics from great powers to attempt this goal.

Cheng Lingzhu approached an unremarkable-looking orchid, driven by curiosity.

To her surprise, the orchid spoke.

“A noble orchid grows in the deep valley, fragrant regardless of being unseen; a gentleman pursues virtue and maintains integrity, not swayed by poverty.” “Wow,” Lu Xuan expressed his surprise. “A cultured flower indeed.”

“The senior brother jests,” the disciple holding the orchid replied with a slight smile. “I just used a little trick to let this orchid comprehend the teachings of the saints.”

“Why not take a look at mine?”

Another female disciple, seemingly competitive, presented her peony. She poured spiritual spring water from a jade flask over it.

The peony’s leaves unfolded: “A night of soft thunder unwinds a myriad threads, clear light dances on tiles in variegated blues. The emotional peony weeps in spring, the powerless rose lies on morning branches.”

“Excellent poetry,” Lu Xuan commented after pondering for a moment.

The poem was somewhat flamboyant, exuding a subtle beauty upon closer reflection.

Lu Xuan guessed that this peony was nurtured by a junior sister from the Agricultural Saint Institution, fed with words from romantic alleyways. Like the orchid, this process resembled Artificial Intelligence training – the output depended on the fed material.

Chen Xu, intrigued by the first two plants, turned his attention to a melon vine near him, poking at it.

The vine’s watermelon spoke: “Folks, who could understand this baffling event? I open my eyes to see scholars below…”

“Bang!”

The disciple who cultivated the watermelon promptly struck it with a ruler, bursting the watermelon.

Wiping the juice from his face, he apologized, “Sorry, senior brother. The materials must have been contaminated during cultivation. I’ll dispose of the rest. ”

Due to the nature of their field, the Agricultural Saint Institution often ended up cultivating bizarre entities, and they had to promptly destroy them upon discovery.

Within the hallowed halls of Sancai Academy.

“My apologies, fellow Daoists,” Chen Xu expressed regretfully. “An urgent summons from my master has just arrived. Would it be acceptable if I arrange another disciple to guide you?”

His waist token had vibrated moments ago, signaling an urgent message from his master, beckoning him to the Raindrop Pavilion in the academy’s eastern sector. The Pavilion, rather than a mere attic, served as the director’s office, perched elegantly amidst an artificial lake.

“There’s no need for that,” Lu Xuan pondered briefly.

“Brother Chen, proceed with your duties. We’ll explore at our leisure, guided by the map. It’s unnecessary to trouble another disciple.”

Chen Xu, noting Lu Xuan’s sincere demeanor, nodded in gratitude and respect, his fists clasped in a traditional salute.

With those words, he activated his escape technique, transforming into a swift breeze and departing.

Lu Xuan watched Chen Xu’s departing figure, waiting for him to fade into the distance. Then, he extended his hand towards Cheng Lingzhu.

“Shall we visit a particular place?”

“Where do you have in mind?” Cheng Lingzhu inquired, her curiosity piqued.

“The Literary Saints Institute” Lu Xuan replied with a smile. “I left something there long ago. I wonder if it’s still there.”

Cheng Lingzhu’s hand, soft and delicate, rested in his. The sensation was pleasing, tempting Lu Xuan to draw her hand to his lips. However, mindful of their public surroundings and his esteemed seniority, he refrained from such an intimate gesture.

As the duration of an incense stick’s burn elapsed, Lu Xuan and Cheng Lingzhu arrived at the Literary Saints’ Institute.

At its entrance stood a grand statue of the Confucian Saint, a symbol of scholarly wisdom. One hand held an open book, as if imparting knowledge, while the other rested behind his back in a contemplative pose. A ferule, more decorative than functional, hung at his waist.

This statue, loftier than those in other departments, signified the Confucian Sect’s prominence and influence among the Hundred Schools of Thought. Contrasting with the inner city gate’s sculpture, this one exhibited a gentler carving style and demeanor. Its flowing robes exuded a refined air, mirroring the Confucian Sect’s philosophy:

Project strength to deter external threats, yet embody gentleness and generosity among your own, cultivating admiration and trust from within..