I Studied Abroad in the Modern Times

Chapter 39: He Won’t Make It

Zheng Fa flipped through the first volume of Complete Explanations of Symbol Diagrams next to the Seventh Young Master. No matter how he examined it, the densely packed words between the lines seemed to scream a single plea:

“Save me, please…”

He turned to look at the room filled with towering bookshelves. A sense of dread crept up on him—no matter how good his memory was, he’d need an extra brain or two to deal with all this.

Exhaustive memorization is a dead end!

“How do you prove you’ve mastered the 108 fundamental meta-symbols?” Zheng Fa asked the question he had been holding in.

He remembered that becoming a Symbolist required deciphering 108 meta-symbols. If it was limited to just these, it didn’t seem so overwhelming.

The Seventh Young Master sat down and began to explain:

“Didn’t I mention that the number of symbol diagrams is constantly growing?”

“But the number of meta-symbols is finite—or not.” The Seventh Young Master furrowed his brows. “Even Immortal Sect cultivators aren’t certain how many meta-symbols exist. What is certain is that the number of meta-symbols is far smaller than the number of symbol diagrams. Some cultivators even claim that a single meta-symbol can correspond to countless symbol diagrams. The foundational meta-symbols are the simplest and most common ones.”

Zheng Fa began to understand what the Seventh Young Master was getting at.

“For example, the two foundational meta-symbols you recently deciphered from a few diagrams—that’s essentially how a Symbolist assessment works. But because there are so many new symbol diagrams, it’s impossible to memorize them all from books. You can only rely on your understanding of foundational meta-symbols to decipher them on the spot. And not all foundational meta-symbols are as straightforward as the ones you deciphered.”

“So memorizing all these books is pointless,” Zheng Fa said, sounding a little disheartened.

“Memorize? This entire room of books?” The Seventh Young Master widened his eyes. “Are you joking?”

Zheng Fa’s expression was so earnest that it left the Seventh Young Master momentarily speechless.

“You… you’re serious?”

Zheng Fa wasn’t joking.

Memorizing it all would strain his memory to the limit.

If he didn’t memorize it, the only option left was to continue learning topology from Old White. But that would tax both his intellect and self-esteem.

Still, if rote memorization was futile, topology might at least offer a promising method.

As he thought about Old White, Zheng Fa sighed.

Last time, he had gone to great lengths to coax the old man, only for Tang Lingwu’s casual mention of an “animal park” to send the man spiraling into disinterest in martial arts again.

This was unacceptable. If his “student” lost enthusiasm, how could the “teacher” make any progress?

…

At dawn, the Seventh Young Master stifled a yawn as he and Gao Yuan watched Zheng Fa practicing stance training in the schoolyard.

The sun was barely up, and Zheng Fa’s hair and pant cuffs were damp with dew, proof that he’d been there for a while.

“When did he start practicing?” the Seventh Young Master asked Gao Yuan.

Gao Yuan shook his head. “When I arrived to practice this morning, he was already here.”

Gao Yuan had been diligently training his Pine Crane Stance, feeling that he was close to mastering it. As a result, he’d been coming to practice early in the mornings before class. Yet today, he arrived to find Zheng Fa already immersed in training.

The Seventh Young Master studied Zheng Fa’s face for a long moment, his brow furrowing slightly as if he was worried about something.

Turning to Gao Yuan, he patted the other’s shoulder and said:

“Did you sleep well last night?”

“Uh… yeah, pretty well,” Gao Yuan replied hesitantly, a sense of foreboding creeping in.

“Zheng Fa has better talent than you and is more diligent—he’s out here training before sunrise. And you’re over there, sleeping soundly?”

“…”

Here we go!

Gao Yuan’s face bore a calm, resigned expression that said, I’ve long been used to this.

“Keep training!”

“Oh!” Gao Yuan stood beside Zheng Fa, maintaining his posture with a serene attitude that didn’t falter.

He began practicing the Pine Crane Stance as well, inwardly chanting the mantra he recently developed: “Can’t fight back, let it slide, I’m useless.”

The two of them continued their training. The Seventh Young Master didn’t leave; instead, he just watched them, deep in thought.

Suddenly, a wail echoed from outside the training ground.

“Uncle! I was sleeping so well!”

This was immediately followed by the voice of Instructor Xu:

“Sleep? Sleep for what? Zheng Fa has better talent than you and works harder! How can you sleep so soundly?”

Gao Yuan opened one eye, unable to resist glancing toward the gate.

Instructor Xu gave a swift kick, sending a drowsy young man stumbling into the training ground.

Judging from how Instructor Xu addressed him, Gao Yuan guessed this was his nephew.

Still bleary-eyed, the young man grumbled:

“Of course, he’s talented! He trains a day and makes a day’s progress. If I had his talent, I’d train every day too! But I don’t, so sleeping more doesn’t hurt much!”

Gao Yuan found himself agreeing, thinking this guy might actually be a sage in disguise.

“Are you going to train or not?” Instructor Xu asked, cracking his knuckles.

“Fine! I’ll train!” The nephew grudgingly took a stance, which, judging by its form, wasn’t Pine Crane Stance but some other technique.

Seeing the young man’s reluctant yet compliant demeanor, Gao Yuan felt a sense of camaraderie and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“What are you smiling at?” the nephew snorted, glaring at Gao Yuan.

Gao Yuan froze.

The young man sneered, glancing at Gao Yuan and then at Zheng Fa, letting out a nasal snort:

“Getting up so early—just a pack of jackals!”

Gao Yuan’s calm facade shattered instantly.

I’m this useless, and I still have to endure jealousy meant for geniuses? Where’s the justice?

…

While the three trained, the Seventh Young Master and Instructor Xu exchanged a worried glance.

They moved to a corner to speak in hushed tones.

“What do you think?” the Seventh Young Master asked, eyeing Zheng Fa.

“He’s rushing,” Instructor Xu replied, shaking his head. “I’ve told them before—training in martial arts can’t be rushed. Greed leads to failure, and the more impatient you are, the more likely you are to get hurt. I thought Zheng Fa’s temperament was steady enough to avoid this.”

“Was he always like this?” The Seventh Young Master seemed to realize something and asked.

“No…” Instructor Xu’s expression shifted as he looked at the Seventh Young Master. “Young Master, are you suggesting it’s because of Ling Crane Technique?”

The Seventh Young Master nodded gravely. “He mentioned recently that he’s been sleepless trying to grasp the essence of Ling Crane Technique.”

Instructor Xu also glanced at Zheng Fa, shaking his head with a sigh.

“I once thought he was more carefree than I was. I didn’t expect… he’s just like me. Too smooth a path, and a single setback becomes difficult to overcome.”

Seeing the concern in the Seventh Young Master’s expression, Instructor Xu reassured him: “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

The Seventh Young Master nodded, casting one last glance at Zheng Fa and Gao Yuan before leaving.

…

At the Madam’s small pavilion, the Seventh Young Master sat across from his mother, each holding a cup of tea.

“I never thought giving you two bookboys would make you visit me more often,” the Madam teased.

“Mother!” the Seventh Young Master huffed.

“Alright, alright, I know it’s not because of them.”

“Speaking of which, Mother, find Gao Yuan a tutor in accounting,” the Seventh Young Master suddenly said.

“Hm?”

“He’s decent at reading, has some talent in martial arts, and he’s hardworking and ambitious,” the Seventh Young Master said, no longer displaying his usual disdain for Gao Yuan. “Have him study under a tutor to learn bookkeeping. He could make a fine steward for the estate in the future.”

The Madam nodded and asked, “And the other one?”

“Zheng Fa…” The Seventh Young Master’s face showed a hint of exasperation. “He’s got talent in the symbolic arts and might even enter the Immortal Sect someday… but that Ling Crane Technique you gave him. It would’ve been fine if he could master it, but now that he can’t, he’s been acting obsessed these past few days.”

“He was never going to master it,” the Madam said calmly, her gaze focused on the steam rising from her tea.

“Mother?” The Seventh Young Master slowly turned his head to look at her. “What did you just say?”

“He was never going to master it.”

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