Subjects

Lu Yan followed Fu Feng downstairs. The spiral staircase wound downward, its wooden steps creaking softly beneath their feet. As he walked, he observed his surroundings. Soft, warm yellow light glowed from the walls, cast by fluorites embedded in the stone crevices, illuminating the steps ahead with a gentle radiance.

Fu Feng walked half a step ahead of him, maintaining a steady, unhurried pace. “These floors are all classrooms,” he said, casually gesturing to both sides. “Each has its own purpose, though most of them aren't really in use.”

His voice echoed faintly in the stairwell. “Your floor is quite a bit further down. The space isn't huge, and the equipment isn't exactly new, but everything should work well enough.”

Lu Yan followed him down a few more steps and nodded. “Just having a space is more than enough.”

Fu Feng chatted a bit more, seemingly introducing the layout of the different levels. Lu Yan only half-listened, his gaze drifting to the nameplates that appeared on the walls from time to time. At every landing, a copper plate was embedded in the stone, engraved with the name and number of the floor. Some were brand new, while others were worn and blurry with age. As he walked, he came to a sudden halt at one of the corners.

“Hmm? What's wrong?” Seeing Lu Yan stop, Fu Feng leaned in to look as well. The copper plate was relatively small, its borders slightly worn, but the characters engraved on it were clear and even faintly glowing.

Lu Yan stared at the line of text for a couple of seconds. His lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. Engraved on the nameplate was a line of small characters that once again made him suspect there was a fellow transmigrator around: “Spiritual Energy Engineering and Automation.”

Lu Yan's throat felt a bit dry. After a moment of silence, he finally asked, “Who came up with this name?”

Fu Feng thought for a moment. “The lead lecturer of each subject chose their own. The lecturer for Spiritual Energy Automation is...” He scratched his head. “I think his name is Mo Yu? Why do you ask?”

Lu Yan let out a quiet breath. He turned the name over in his mind a few times. Perhaps it's just a coincidence, he thought. He looked at Fu Feng and said, “It's nothing.” If he remembered correctly, there were several other names on the copper plates he had passed.

He continued down, his eyes scanning the copper plates along the way. “Artifact Pattern Engraving and Application,” “Artifact Spirit Intelligence,” “Spiritual Energetics,” “Applied Soul Studies,” “Metallurgy”... The handwriting on each plate was different, and so was the style of engraving. Some were neat, some were sloppy, and some bore obvious signs of having been re-engraved later on.

Lu Yan read them to himself as he walked, feeling more and more bewildered. Why did these names look so incredibly familiar? Only after repeatedly reminding himself that these were chosen by different lecturers did he manage to ease his racing heart. Perhaps it was just a coincidence. Perhaps the naming conventions of this world simply happened to overlap with the system he was familiar with. He suppressed the thought and said no more.

The deeper they went, the fewer active floors there seemed to be. At first, every single floor had a copper plate, but eventually, there was only one every two floors, until the walls on both sides of the stairs became bare stone once more. After walking down about twenty or thirty floors, Fu Feng stopped. He stood in front of a copper plate and tapped it. It read: “Transformational Material Science.”

“This is my floor,” Fu Feng said. “Unfortunately, probably because it's too difficult, not many people study it.” He scratched his head, a hint of regret creeping into his voice that he himself might not have even noticed. “But there are still plenty of people who want to learn formations, so you don't have to worry.”

Lu Yan glanced at the copper plate. The engraving on it was very fresh, looking as though it had only recently been replaced. After a brief silence, he said, “Once they finish learning formations, they might want to learn how you transform one material into another.”

Fu Feng was taken aback for a moment, then let out a warm, bright smile.

“The floor right below is yours.” Fu Feng pointed down the stairs. “You can start teaching tomorrow. For today, you can prepare your lessons first. If you need any materials, just come up and find me.”

He paused. “Uh, since you're basically the only one in the formation department, you'll be the lead lecturer. You can name your own subject.”

With that, he fished a storage bag out of his sleeve and tossed it to Lu Yan. Lu Yan caught it and peeked inside. He didn't count them precisely, but at a rough estimate, there were at least a thousand spirit stones, stacked neatly and gleaming faintly in the light filtering through the opening. He tied the drawstring, his fingers lingering on the bag for a moment before he looked up at Fu Feng. “This is...”

“Consider it a stipend.” Fu Feng's tone was casual, as if speaking of something entirely trivial. “I noticed your financial situation didn't seem great, so I advanced you half a month's worth. Just to tide you over.”

Lu Yan remained silent. He looked down at the storage bag in his hand. Fu Feng stood higher up on the stairs, waiting for him to speak.

Lu Yan squeezed the storage bag tightly, then slowly loosened his grip. He saw right through it—this was a gesture of goodwill meant to tie him closer. By giving him a large sum of money the moment he decided to stay, Fu Feng was making him owe a favor. A favor that would eventually have to be repaid in some other form. He understood this perfectly. Yet, he did not refuse, because he truly needed the money.

Jiang Ci's medicinal baths, Blood-Vitality Pills, food and lodging expenses, savings for moving—every single expense was lined up in his mind, waiting to be paid. He looked up at Fu Feng. “...Thank you.”

Fu Feng patted him on the shoulder. “Don't mention it. I'm off to smelt some iron. Let me know if you need anything. The disciples studying formations won't be back until tomorrow, so take your time to get familiar with the place.” He waved and headed back upstairs.

Lu Yan stood where he was, glancing down at the storage bag in his hand. He tucked it into his breast pocket, holding it close to his chest. The coldness of the spirit stones seeped through the fabric of his clothes against his skin. He walked down one more flight of stairs.

His level was smaller than the ones above. Yet, even dozens of floors underground, the space still spanned several thousand square meters. There were several rooms of various sizes, some with their doors shut and others wide open. A thin layer of dust floated in the air, suggesting no one had set foot here in quite some time.

A podium stood in the corner of the room, next to an empty storage rack. The feet of the rack were covered in dust. He walked over to the podium and ran a hand across its surface, his fingers coming away coated in a layer of gray.

He brushed the dust off his hands and turned to look at the doorway. A blank copper plate was embedded in the wall next to the door, completely unengraved. He recalled Fu Feng's words: “You can name your own subject.”

He stood in front of the blank copper plate for a moment. Then, extending his right hand, he gathered spiritual energy at his fingertips and traced them across the copper surface.

“Formation Studies”

The classroom wasn't particularly large. The podium faced several rows of empty desks and chairs, all covered in dust. On the podium lay a few stacks of blank notebooks, their pages yellowed and edges curled, left behind from some unknown time.

He sat down at the podium, picked up one of the blank notebooks, and flipped it open. He tested the surface of the paper with his fingertip—spiritual energy could indeed leave a mark. Lowering his head, he pondered for a moment, then began writing his curriculum.

Using spiritual energy as ink and his fingertip as a brush, he laid down lines of characters upon the white paper.

Formation Studies. Core Course I.

Chapter One: Fundamentals of Formations. The Basic Unit of Formations—Formation Lines.

Section One: The Origin and Composition of Formation Lines.

Section Two: The Engraving and Recording of Formation Lines.

Section Three: The Activation of Formation Lines.

Chapter Two: Common Formations.

Section One: How to Set Up a Complete Formation.

Section Two: The Spirit-Gathering Formation and Its Variations.

Section Three: Common Defensive and Killing Formations.

Lab Activity: Casting a Formation in a Single Attempt Using Spiritual Energy...

He edited as he wrote, removing unnecessary content and adding notes he might need during his lecture. By the time the sky outside began to dim, he stopped writing and flipped through what he had finished—half a notebook, which was plenty for tomorrow.

He closed the notebook and stood up, stretching his stiff neck. The classroom was silent. Only the golden-red glow from the giant glass tube pulsed slowly against the walls, like the rhythmic breathing of some sleeping heart.

He walked out, pausing at the doorway to look at the newly engraved copper plate. The words “Formation Studies” sat quietly in the warm light, looking as if they had hung there for years. Withdrawing his gaze, he stepped into the corridor.

Leaving the classroom behind, he climbed the spiral staircase floor by floor. By the time he reached the surface, night had already fallen over Everspring City. Warm yellow lamps lit up both sides of the streets, where only a few pedestrians walked. Tavern flags fluttered gently in the evening breeze, and in the distance, a dharma ship patrolled the sky beneath the snowy mountains. Standing at the entrance, Lu Yan weighed the bag of spirit stones in his pocket—heavy and comforting against his chest. He headed home, his steps lighter than when he had arrived.

The night in Everspring City was as bustling as ever. As he walked through the sea of lights, his hand gripped the bag of spirit stones tightly, as if holding onto something tangible that finally belonged to him. He knew that among the thousands of glowing lights, there was one waiting for his return.