The morning sun streamed through his window, waking Lin Yun from a deep, dreamless sleep. He felt refreshed, the lingering fatigue from his breakthrough and nighttime excursion completely gone.
The spiritual energy within his dantian circulated smoothly, a testament to his new-found 3rd Level Qi Condensation strength.
Yu Tao'er was already bustling about, preparing a hearty breakfast of spirit grain congee, steamed buns filled with minced spirit beast meat, and a pot of fragrant tea that shimmered with energy. The aroma filled the main room, a comforting and familiar start to the day.
As he ate, Tao'er hovered nearby, her expression a mixture of her usual cheer and a new, persistent worry.
"Young Master," she began tentatively, "are you sure you don't want me to accompany you to class today? After... everything that happened..."
Lin Yun looked up from his bowl and offered her a reassuring smile. It was a genuine smile, one that seemed to surprise her slightly.
"I'm fine, Tao'er. Really. It was just a minor accident. There's no need to fuss." He finished his congee and stood up. "I can handle myself."
He could see the conflict in her eyes—her duty to protect him warring with his clear dismissal. Finally, she just sighed and bowed her head. "As you wish, Young Master. Please be careful."
With a final nod, Lin Yun left the courtyard, stepping out into the bright morning light. He could feel Tao'er's worried gaze on his back until he turned a corner and was out of sight.
Following the mental map provided by the original Lin Yun's memories, he navigated the bustling pathways of the academy.
Students in robes of various hues streamed towards the large, multi-storied lecture halls. The air was filled with the chatter of hundreds of disciples, a stark contrast to the quiet solitude of his courtyard.
As he walked, he noticed the glances. Subtle, sidelong looks from his classmates. Whispers trailed in his wake, snippets of conversation catching his enhanced hearing.
"I heard that he blew up a cauldron..."
"He's lucky to be alive..."
"Such a disgrace to the Lin Clan..."
"Well, he always was a clumsy oaf..."
Lin Yun's expression remained placid. He didn't care. These people were NPCs in his new game, their opinions irrelevant background noise. The scorn and pity that would have crushed the original Lin Yun simply washed over him, leaving no mark. His focus was inward, on his system, his plans, his growth.
He entered the designated lecture hall, a vast room with tiered seating looking down on a central platform. The memories guided him to his usual seat, a spot towards the back and off to the side—the perfect place for an unremarkable student to fade into the background.
He noted, with a wry internal smile, that his situation defied a common novel trope. There was no loyal, chubby sidekick waiting for him. No one greeted him or saved him a seat. He was truly alone here.
The only person who could remotely be considered an acquaintance was a girl sitting a few rows ahead. Through the memories, he knew her as Hua Mengyan, the young miss of the Hua Clan.
The Hua and Lin Clans had a strong, symbiotic relationship; the Hua Clan were master herbalists who cultivated the finest spiritual plants, while the Lin Clan were master alchemists who transformed those plants into pills. It was a classic alliance.
As if sensing his gaze, Hua Mengyan turned around. She had a delicate, pretty face with kind eyes. A faint, concerned frown touched her lips. "Lin Yun? You're back. Are you... alright now?"
Her tone was genuinely worried. It seemed the news of his 'accident' had spread.
Lin Yun met her gaze calmly. "I'm fine. Thank you for your concern." His voice was even, his demeanor composed.
Hua Mengyan blinked, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. This wasn't the flustered, awkwardly grateful boy she was used to. The Lin Yun she knew would have stuttered, his face turning red, mumbling a barely audible reply before looking away.
This Lin Yun looked back at her with a steady, almost analytical gaze, his thanks polite but distant. She felt a strange shift in his aura, but she simply nodded.
"That's good to hear."
She turned back around, a faint puzzle in her expression.
Soon, a shift in the room's atmosphere announced the arrival of others. Ji Xuan and Nangong Qing'er walked in, flanked by a small entourage of sycophantic students. They were like the sun and moon entering a room of stars—immediately drawing all attention.
Ji Xuan carried himself with his usual air of aloof superiority, his gaze sweeping over the class without lingering on anyone in particular. Nangong Qing'er, however, spotted Lin Yun almost instantly.
A mask of sweet concern instantly adorned her beautiful face. She glided over to his seat, her movement graceful and practiced.
"Young Master Lin," she said, her voice a soft, melodious chime designed to draw sympathy. "I'm so relieved to see you in class. We were all so worried after the accident. Are you sure you're fully recovered?"
Lin Yun looked up at her. He saw the perfect performance—the slightly widened eyes, the delicate frown of worry. But beneath it, his instincts, honed by the memory of Ji Xuan's surprised glance in the ruined alchemy room, screamed of falseness.
"I am perfectly fine, Miss Nangong," he replied, his tone flat and devoid of the warmth she probably expected. "It was nothing serious."
He then deliberately looked down at the empty desk in front of him, a clear dismissal.
A barely perceptible stiffness went through Nangong Qing'er's smile. She was not used to being brushed off, especially not by someone like Lin Yun. She recovered quickly, however, offering another sweet, meaningless platitude before rejoining Ji Xuan at the front of the class.
Just then, the classroom door opened again, and an elderly man walked in. He had a long, grey beard and wore simple grey robes, but his eyes held a sharp, penetrating intelligence. This was Teacher Xu Jian, a respected elder of the academy who specialized in the art of formations.
The class fell silent. Xu Jian did not bother with greetings. He stood at the central platform and began his lecture on the basic principles of spatial confinement formations.
Lin Yun, who had initially planned to just go through the motions, found himself leaning forward, genuinely intrigued.
Formations? This was like programming on a cosmic scale! It involved arranging spiritual energy nodes in specific, resonant patterns to achieve a desired effect—be it defense, attack, illusion, or confinement.
It was another system of logic, another set of rules to be mastered. The idea of becoming an all-rounder cultivator, proficient not just in alchemy and combat but also in the arcane art of formations, appealed to the part of him that loved mastering complex systems. It was a common trope for protagonists, and he saw no reason why he shouldn't aim for it.
He listened intently, his programmer's mind dissecting Xu Jian's explanations, visualizing the energy flows and nodal connections. It was fascinating.
"Ahem!"
As the class drew to a close, Teacher Xu Jian cleared his throat.
"Remember, disciples," he said, his voice echoing in the quiet hall. "Theory is the foundation of practice. Next week, there will be an examination on everything we have covered this term on basic formation theory. Your performance will contribute to your end-of-year evaluation. Do not disappoint me."