The Professor's Doubts

"You're not allowed to keep cats or dogs here. There's no one home during the day to look after them," Mother Zhou warned. "I definitely won't," Zhou You promised earnestly. Mother Zhou didn't entirely believe him. She swept her gaze across the room once more, and finding nothing amiss, closed the door and returned to watching TV. Hearing the door shut, Duan Yuxian still did not dare poke her head out. Only when Zhou You said, "All clear," did she tentatively push open the wardrobe door, revealing half of her face, and whisper, "Is she really gone?" "Really gone." Only then did Duan Yuxian dare crawl out of the wardrobe clutching her quilt. Her face was flushed rosy, whether from embarrassment or from being stuffed inside the wardrobe. "Sorry for the trouble." "Don't worry about it," Zhou You said quickly. He glanced at the rain outside, accompanied by flashes of lightning and rumbling thunder; it wouldn't be stopping anytime soon. "It's pouring so hard, Fellow Daoist..." Zhou You wanted to suggest that she just make do for the night in his room, but saying it aloud felt a little awkward. "Would it be alright if I stayed here tonight?" Duan Yuxian asked softly. "Of course. Would you like to take the bed, Fellow Daoist?" Duan Yuxian waved her hands repeatedly. "How could I? I can just sleep on the floor." "How could I let a guest sleep on the floor? Last time you sleepwalked and slept on the floor, I already felt bad enough." Letting her sleep on the floor went against his code of hospitality. The two went back and forth, but in the end, Duan Yuxian was no match for Zhou You's insistence. Using the excuse that she hadn't slept in a bed for the past two days, Zhou You forced her to take the bed while he made a pallet on the floor. Lying in the bed, Duan Yuxian felt rather guilty. For the past two days, she had been taking afternoon naps in Zhou You's bed, not to mention frequently using the charger by his bedside to charge her phone and power bank. Each time, she had tidied the bed and smoothed out the sheets before leaving, which was why Zhou You had never noticed. Before turning off the lights, Zhou You locked the bedroom door. That way, if anything happened, his family wouldn't suddenly throw the door open and cause another frantic scramble like before. "Good night, Fellow Daoist Duan," Zhou You said from the floor. "Good night." In the bed, Duan Yuxian tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. ... [Is it possible that the Human Dao supreme treasure isn't the Hereditary Jade Seal, but hell banknotes?] Locked in his office, the Professor was likewise finding it impossible to sleep. He had been sitting in front of his computer for half an hour, agonizing over whether to post this question on the Immortal Cultivation Forum. In the end, he didn't dare hit Enter. He deleted the title and refrained from submitting the post. He was truly at his wit's end. Over the past few days, he had mobilized the Organization's core scientific personnel to establish a Human Dao Supreme Treasure Research Team, assisted by numerous research-oriented superpowered people, all to spend endless hours analyzing a box of hell banknotes. Whether boldly snipping off a corner to observe under a microscope or sending samples for chemical analysis, the test results consistently showed that they were completely ordinary hell banknotes—manufactured within the last two years, no less. At first, he hadn't worried. After all, this was the legendary Human Dao supreme treasure; whoever possessed it would become Number One Under Heaven. For a paramount artifact, it was only natural that divine treasures concealed their own brilliance—how could it possibly yield answers so easily? Yet there shouldn't be zero clues whatsoever. If nothing else, shouldn't the snipped corner at least regenerate automatically? How could it fail to display even the slightest sign of extraordinary power? The artifact was concealing its brilliance far too thoroughly! "Could it be a fake?" "That makes no sense. Why put such a formidable seal on a fake?" To break the seal, four doses of top-tier strengthening agent had been expended, and Xianzhen's unsealing ability had even leveled up afterward. The price had been paid, and the seal was undeniably genuine. Under such circumstances, how could the contents of the box be fake? Who would be lunatic enough to seal a pile of hell banknotes inside a box? Unable to make sense of it no matter how hard he thought, he had considered turning to the forum for help. If he asked for help and the Human Dao supreme treasure really could take the form of hell banknotes—and someone in the know recognized that—wouldn't he be putting himself at risk of exposure? If he didn't ask, he had no direction for unraveling the treasure's secrets, with no telling when any progress might be made. "Could that Zhenyue Ghost King have created a distraction, deliberately planting a fake for Red King to bring back?" The Professor felt this was a real possibility. Otherwise, it couldn't explain why Red King never crossed paths with Zhenyue Ghost King from start to finish. "Should I have Red King make another trip to Chang'an?" The Professor felt that would be asking too much of Red King. In Red King's eyes, Chang'an was no different from the Gates of Hell; having made it back with great difficulty, he would never agree to go back. He would have to find someone else. The Professor dialed a number. "Hello, Soul King? Come to my office." Lately, Soul King had been in a foul mood. Both he and Red King were members of the Seven Kings, and their superpowers shared similarities, so people inevitably compared them behind closed doors. Previously, they had been neck and neck. But ever since Red King returned to headquarters with the Human Dao supreme treasure, everyone had treated Red King like a star surrounded by moons. He carried himself as though he were the undisputed head of the Seven Kings, treating Soul King like dirt. "So what if he brought back the Human Dao supreme treasure? There wasn't even a battle." Soul King was deeply resentful. Taking a dip in a lake, fishing out a wooden box, and coming back without even laying eyes on Zhenyue Ghost King—who couldn't do that? "Did the Professor call me over to assign a mission?" Soul King made up his mind: he would complete the Professor's mission flawlessly, earn a top-tier strengthening agent, surpass Red King, and vent his frustration. *Knock, knock, knock.* "Professor, I'm here." The door to the Professor's office opened automatically. The Professor's office was lavish in the extreme. The carpet was pristine white and luxuriously soft beneath one's feet, crafted entirely from polar bear pelts. The walls were adorned with treasures such as ivory, pearls, and agates—the sort of tribute fit only for ancient emperors. Also hanging on the walls were photographs of him alongside successive presidents. Presidents came and went, yet the Professor remained unchanged, his appearance showing not the slightest hint of aging, as if time had frozen around him. "Make yourself comfortable," the Professor said with an amiable smile. He was hand-grinding coffee beans and filtering the grounds through paper. Seeing Soul King arrive, he removed the filter and brought over two cups of coffee, one for each of them. "Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee. Have a taste of my brew." Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee was one of the finest coffees in the world, named after the Blue Mountains of Jamaica where it grew at altitudes above a thousand meters. Renowned for its unique flavor profile, coffee enthusiasts praised it as the gentleman among coffees. The Professor was quite fond of that moniker. Soul King was flattered. Everyone knew the Professor enjoyed grinding coffee, but precious few had ever tasted his personal brew. This was a mark of recognition. Was the Professor about to entrust him with an important responsibility? "Professor, what did you need me for?" Soul King lifted his cup and took a sip. Bitterness intertwined with sweetness in exquisite balance, the texture silky and flawless—truly living up to the name of whatever-it-was Blue Mountain coffee. The Professor did not drink his coffee. Instead, he got straight down to business: "There is a matter. Keep it strictly to yourself; currently, I am the only one who knows about it." Soul King sat up straight. The mission was coming. "There's been a complication with the Human Dao supreme treasure research. I suspect Red King retrieved the wrong thing." Holding his coffee, Soul King forced down his surging excitement, fighting to keep from laughing out loud. *Red King, you had this coming! No wonder your mission seemed so effortless—you botched it completely!* "Rest assured, Professor! I'll head to Chang'an No. 2 High School right away. I won't rest until I bring back the real Human Dao supreme treasure!" *It's finally my turn to shine!* "With you saying that, my mind is at ease," the Professor said with a chuckle. "However, there is a minor detail you might want to watch out for." "Is it about Zhenyue Ghost King? Rest assured, Professor—a mere ghost king is no match for me." Soul King possessed absolute confidence in his own strength; he didn't have enough fingers on both hands to count the ghost kings he had defeated. "No, not that. It's just that Natural Disaster goes to school at No. 2 High. Keep an eye out when you go," the Professor said offhandedly, as if mentioning something utterly trivial. *Smash.* The scalding coffee splashed over Soul King's feet, staining the pristine white polar bear carpet. Soul King tried several times to stand up and take his leave, but his body refused to obey. His legs trembled so violently that he couldn't even keep his footing, collapsing straight to the floor.