Chapter 66
Chapter 66
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: Come to Taibon Valley (2)
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The instructor was breaking out in a cold sweat.
‘Fun Basics of Puppetry’ was an introductory course aimed at Qi Condensation cultivators.
Thus, the instructor himself was merely a Foundation Establishment cultivator with only about fifty years of cultivation experience.
He didn’t even glance at anyone who had reached Foundation Establishment, let alone Core Formation.
It was by no means a level that could interest a Core Formation cultivator who claimed to be 241 years old this year.
In fact, every student in the classroom was watching the latecomer’s mood.
Qi Condensation cultivators seated unavoidably around Seoran due to assigned seating fidgeted nervously.
The scholarly atmosphere, which had been warm and lively until Seoran entered, was reduced to rubble by a single meteor strike.
The instructor trembled in fear.
Why was a Core Formation cultivator here?
What intentions did they have for sitting in on the class?
Were they perhaps planning to mock his shallow knowledge?
The instructor imagined the worst-case scenario.
“That was an incredibly disappointing lecture.”
“Don’t you know how to teach people?”
“I can see what kind of distance your learning has covered.”
In his imagination, Seoran unleashed a torrent of harsh criticism.
Plummeting lecture evaluations.
Repeated rejections of course proposals.
Finally, his own back as he left Taibon Valley behind.
The instructor shuddered in extreme terror.
But even so, he did not flee.
Though he wasn’t some famous hotshot instructor, he had his own sense of calling.
Maintain a smiling face and courteous speech.
Convey useful knowledge, not just fill time.
Those who ascend the podium must complete the lesson.
The instructor pressed forward, stepping over his fear.
“Greetings, students. I am Suda Inhyeong, the instructor for ‘Fun Basics of Puppetry.’ Today, we will cover...”
And so the lecture began.
Suda Inhyeong lectured with genuine passion.
He lightened the rigid classroom atmosphere with occasional light jokes and well-timed questions.
The other students, who had been frozen stiff due to one latecomer, gradually began focusing on the lesson.
The time, which felt nearly eternal, finally came to an end.
Suda Inhyeong felt like he might collapse from exhaustion.
But he never lost his smile until the very end.
The person of interest, Ryu Seoran, stood from her seat.
She let out a “Hm...” and exited the classroom.
It was truly a faint sound, but to Suda Inhyeong’s ears, it rang like thunder in a storm.
The instructor left the room utterly drained.
“Hm...” What did that “Hm...” mean?
Was it a sign that his lecture was inadequate?
Had he ultimately failed as an instructor?
An office worker rushed to the dejected instructor.
“Suda Inhyeong, take a look at this!”
“What’s this?”
“It’s the lecture evaluation written by Senior Ryu!”
Suda Inhyeong hurriedly examined the feedback form.
‘The lecture was informative. 5/5’
Seoran’s straightforward review was written there.
A short phrase and high score from a famous instructor.
It felt like encouragement for a junior.
Suda Inhyeong shed hot tears within his heart.
So that’s it... I did it...
My lecture reached the students...
The path I’ve walked so far wasn’t wrong...
He gained the courage to continue living as an instructor.
Suda Inhyeong threw himself into preparing for the next class all night.
He didn’t want to forget the overwhelming emotions he felt today.
His lecturing skills improved day by day.
It was all thanks to the encouraging message Seoran had written.
Of course, that hadn’t been Seoran’s intention at all.
In her previous life, Seoran had a habit of giving full marks to every delivery review, so she’d jotted it down carelessly.
What you don’t know tastes like medicine anyway.
Spring passed into summer, and Seoran immersed herself solely in study.
Here today, there tomorrow, even at night.
She cut back on sleep to delve into puppetry.
Seoran, thirsting for knowledge, blossomed in the Eastern Continent.
People looked at Seoran with puzzlement.
Why was she so obsessed with puppetry?
No one knew—not even Seoran herself.
What had turned Seoran into a puppeteer?
The childhood dream of becoming a transforming mecha pilot?
The instinctive passion of a hot-blooded youth that persisted even after rebirth?
Or perhaps an innate talent embedded in her soul?
Whatever the reason, Seoran didn’t care in the slightest.
Because this moment was simply too enjoyable.
So she wasn’t particularly curious.
The ones truly curious were elsewhere.
“Senior Ryu, when exactly are you holding your Core Formation lecture?”
They were the prospective students who had been eagerly awaiting the opening of the divine Ryu Seoran’s course.
*****
While gathered for lunch, one of the disciples asked.
“Senior Ryu, are you still studying puppetry?”
A friend eating with them replied.
“Yeah, she took seven classes yesterday.”
“Wow...”
Sighs escaped from the lips of the assembled disciples.
“She’s been at it consistently for half a year...”
“Please stop already...”
“What even is puppetry...”
“Please, just open a lecture... please...”
“I’ll grow old and die at Foundation Establishment like this...”
“Fall is almost here...”
Amid the gloomy mood, someone spoke up.
“Won’t she open a lecture once her spirit stones run out?”
Immediate rebuttal flew back.
“When? In ten, twenty years?”
The disciple who had offered the hopeful view countered again.
“Isn’t ten years plenty of time to wait?”
From a Foundation Establishment cultivator’s perspective, it made sense.
Seoran’s stockpile of spirit stones wasn’t infinite.
They just had to endure diligently, banking on their 250-year lifespan.
But Seoran wasn’t one to go easy.
“I heard Senior Ryu invested in Great Forest expeditions and multiplied her spirit stones several times over?”
“Sev-several times?”
“About ninefold, roughly?”
“In one go?”
“No, diversified investments. Some expeditions succeeded.”
The faint spark of hope extinguished without a trace.
“Ah, don’t lie!”
“She made money from investments?”
“Aren’t Great Forest expeditions all scams?”
“Her talent is real...”
“Ninety years is way too much...”
The disciples plunged into rapid despair.
They had lingered so long in front of the registration desk, hoping she might open a course this quarter.
Despite their desperate waiting, Seoran never opened one.
No matter how many spirit stones they offered, there was nothing to be done if the instructor herself refused.
Wouldn’t she return once she tired of studying puppetry?
Wouldn’t she return once her spirit stones ran dry?
Wouldn’t she return for the one-year anniversary of course openings?
They were hopeful speculations pinned on any excuse.
But their longing was too intense to help it.
Foundation Establishment disciples repeatedly built up expectations alone, only to crash into despair.
One disciple declared resolutely after finishing the meal.
“I can’t take it anymore.”
“What will you do if you can’t?”
“I’m going to request she open a course right now.”
Surrounding friends tried to dissuade the disciple.
“No, calm down for a sec.”
“It’s a Core Formation senior.”
“You might cause a real disaster.”
But the disciple was stubborn.
“No, let me go. I have to do this.”
The disciple shook off friends and dashed away.
It wasn’t a direct visit to the sky-like senior.
That would truly be no easy task.
The disciple went to the former office assistant, Dan Wonpyo.
“Investigator Dan, please pass on our plea...”
“Why are you doing this? What power do I have?”
“You’re the one with some connection, aren’t you?”
“No, really...”
Unable to resist the earnest pleading, Dan Wonpyo went to Seoran.
He conveyed the public sentiment desperately awaiting her course.
Seoran, who had listened quietly, replied refreshingly.
“Then shall I do one in the fall?”
The fall course opening was thus confirmed.
The application Dan Wonpyo submitted on her behalf was approved immediately.
Finally, the notice went up on the bulletin board.
The news spread rapidly throughout the learning district.
“Divine Barrier Core Formation Lecture Confirmed for Fall!”
“What!”
“Is it official? Not like last time’s rumor?”
“It’s posted on the registration desk bulletin!”
“It’s real!”
“Get out of my way, all of you!”
This time too, the registration desk was paralyzed.
With so many applicants, the course split into two sessions.
Thanks to Seoran’s ready agreement.
On the first day of the long-awaited fall course.
Seoran stood before a crowd several times larger than last year.
And she spoke the opening line everyone knew.
“Puppetry is transcendence, and transcendence is but replenishment.”
Despite half a year’s hiatus, her skill remained as sharp as ever.
That fall, several new Core Formation cultivators emerged.
The remaining students also achieved excellent results.
It was a happy, beautiful autumn for all.
Of course, it would have been better without just the end-of-term notice.
‘Winter course will not be opened.’
Next quarter’s lecture: not offered.
“Arrrgh!”
Screams burst involuntarily from the disciples’ mouths.
*****
Those awaiting the winter course despaired.
It was the wail one might expect from a victim tortured in the underworld.
But even Seoran had no choice.
Last summer, Seoran had been tossed into the Eastern Continent.
Three quarters lecturing, two studying, one more lecturing.
Already a year and a half had passed.
Nearly two years since stepping on the teleportation array and vanishing.
Seoran’s outing was stretching on too long.
It was all because of repeating “just one more quarter...”
Intoxicated by sweet academic fervor, she couldn’t snap out of it.
Of course, that too was unavoidable.
From the Eastern Continent to the Western Continent was a one-way trip measured in years.
Once she returned, revisiting would be nearly impossible.
Seoran wrestled endlessly with the dilemma.
There’s so much knowledge to learn here... it’d be such a waste...
But my sect family must be worried...
What to do...
In the end, her mind tilted toward returning.
Thus, there would be no winter Core Formation course.
Probably none forever after.
Unable to let go, Seoran dawdled until the very last moment.
Ah, I want to stay longer in the learning district.
Is there no way to just send word?
If only someone could deliver a letter for me.
Yes, letter delivery?
And once again, inspiration struck.
It was truly a eureka moment.