The cold rice was a mere fuel for his mind. Lin Yun ate mechanically, his eyes never leaving the sheet of paper covered in cryptic symbols. The puzzle was an irresistible challenge, a complex algorithm waiting to be solved.
Pushing his empty bowl aside, he cleared his desk completely, leaving only the large paper and the flickering oil lamp.
He began the meticulous work of assembly. Using his understanding of spatial relationships, he started grouping symbols with matching edges. It was a slow, painstaking process, like debugging a thousand-line code without any comments. His fingers gently traced the paper, mentally rotating and shifting the fragments.
The night deepened outside his window, the academy falling into a profound silence broken only by the occasional cry of a night bird.
Piece by piece, the chaotic scattering of symbols began to coalesce. Lines connected, arcs formed circles, and clusters of dots found their designated places.
It was like watching a shattered vase slowly reassemble itself. The programmer in him felt a deep, primal satisfaction with each successful connection.
As the hour grew late, the final piece slid into place. He leaned back, his neck stiff and his eyes tired, but his spirit was alert.
Before him was a complete diagram. It was a perfect circle, about the size of his palm, drawn on the paper. The outer ring was composed of the interlocking geometric patterns from the symbols, forming a complex, seamless border.
Inside this border were intricate, swirling runes that pulsed with a hidden logic, though their meaning was still foreign to him.
But his eyes were drawn to the center of the circle. It was blank. A void. A perfect, empty space in the middle of all that complexity.
He frowned slightly. This wasn't right. The diagram felt incomplete, like a motherboard without its central processing unit.
The entire structure, for all its intricacy, seemed to be pointing towards this central emptiness, waiting for a core component to give it meaning and purpose. Without it, the diagram was just a pretty picture.
Just as he was contemplating this emptiness, a soft chime echoed in his mind, distinct from the usual mission completion sound.
[Ding! Host has successfully deciphered a hidden inheritance diagram. Analyzing...]
[Analysis complete. Technique identified: Nine Heavens Refinement Art.]
[Status: Incomplete (Core Fragment Missing). Grade: Unidentifiable.]
[Note: This is a foundational refinement art of unprecedented grade. The complete version is required for full comprehension and cultivation.]
Lin Yun was stunned for a moment, staring at the system text hovering in his vision. A technique. And not just any technique. A "foundational refinement art of unprecedented grade." The system couldn't even identify its level!
His surprise, however, was quickly overshadowed by a wave of deep suspicion and cold analysis. He wasn't shocked that he had found a technique; the puzzle had all the hallmarks of a hidden master's legacy.
What concerned him was the context.
His thoughts immediately flew to Elder Fang. The mysterious librarian had not just suggested a book; he had directed him straight to this specific, secret-laden tome. He had essentially handed Lin Yun the first part of a priceless inheritance on a silver platter.
Why?
The question was more urgent than ever. What was Elder Fang's motive? Was he a benevolent patron testing a promising disciple? Was he using Lin Yun as an unwitting pawn in some larger scheme?
The man's penetrating gaze and cryptic words now felt deeply significant, and potentially dangerous.
And Bai Chenfeng. Lin Yun was now almost certain that the Bai Clan's young master knew about the secret within "The Origin of Alchemy." His surprise hadn't been about the book's existence, but about Lin Yun, the known slacker, having it.
Was Bai Chenfeng also searching for the puzzle's solution? Was there a silent competition for this inheritance that he was now unknowingly a part of?
He looked at the incomplete diagram and the system's description. The "Nine Heavens Refinement Art." The name alone sounded domineering. To get the complete version, the missing core fragment, it was clear he would need to go back to Elder Fang. The librarian was the key.
But the cautious, analytical part of Lin Yun, honed by years of navigating corporate politics and complex codebases where a single misplaced trust could lead to catastrophe, screamed at him to wait.
Rushing to Elder Fang now would be like handing over admin privileges to an unknown entity. He had no leverage, no understanding of the old man's intentions, and no way to defend himself if this was a trap.
He needed information. He needed to understand Elder Fang's history, his connections, his patterns. He needed to observe Bai Chenfeng more closely. He needed to strengthen himself first.
"Patience," he murmured to himself, folding the paper and hiding it securely within a stack of other notes.
The "Nine Heavens Refinement Art" was a tantalizing prize, a potential game-changer. But a prize taken too early, without understanding the rules of the game, could easily become a curse.
He had his cheat device, the system, which had given him a massive head start by identifying the technique. But from here on out, he would have to rely on his wits. He would not be a piece moved by others. He would be the player.
"It's getting more and more interesting now." Lin Yun curled his lips into a confident smile.
He quietly began to enjoy this new life in the new world. It was more interesting and exciting than his days as a coperation slave.
Knock! Knock!
A soft knock on his door pulled Lin Yun from his thoughts of hidden techniques and mysterious librarians.
"Young Master, it's very late," Yu Tao'er's voice came through the wood, laced with concern. "You should get some proper rest. Tomorrow, we must return to the clan manor for the Old Patriarch's birthday celebration."
Lin Yun blinked, refocusing on the present. "I will, Tao'er. Thank you."