"What does 'assist with experiments' mean, exactly?" Baisha asked, her tone cautious.
The dean glanced toward the door, his voice softening. "Best let Jiang Gui explain that himself. Come in, Professor. You can see Her Highness didn't send her construct to sabotage you on purpose."
Baisha followed his gaze. A man stepped into the room, his presence both understated and commanding. Long black hair framed a white shirt, paired with a gray low-cut vest that hugged his torso, adorned with dark gemstone buttons at the waist. A lightweight, somber cloak draped his shoulders, its silver embroidery glinting subtly. His deep blue eyes swept over Baisha, carrying a faint, probing intensity.
"Greetings," he said, his voice clear and resonant, like a frost-kissed bell. "I'm Jiang Gui."
Baisha studied the top-ranked special-grade mechsmith, noting his cool rationality—a fitting trait for a scholar of his caliber. But his proposed terms… those were something else entirely.
She sighed, exasperated. "Can you release my construct first?"
"Of course." Jiang Gui nodded, retrieving a small device from his pocket and pressing it. The golden laser cage confining the silver-throated long-tailed tit dissolved instantly.
"Chirp chirp chirp!" Freed, Little White Chirp darted to Baisha's shoulder, burrowing frantically into her hair.
Baisha rubbed its back soothingly, her voice chiding. "Sneaking off at night to steal snacks? Let's see if you dare try that again."
Jiang Gui's eyes shimmered with a cold, autumnal glint. "A construct that wanders independently of its master—I've never seen the like."
The chirp, sensing his stare, froze, its hiding efforts redoubling.
"Let's get to the point, Professor Jiang," Baisha said, steering the conversation. "You mentioned assisting with experiments. What exactly does that entail? If I can't help due to personal reasons, I'll compensate for the cores' loss, no question."
"The experiment is straightforward," Jiang Gui replied, his tone even. "In essence, I need to borrow your construct."
Baisha's eyes widened. "?!"
She clutched Little White Chirp protectively, eyeing him warily.
"No misunderstanding," he clarified. "The cores it consumed are integral to my experiment, which can't be halted. I can't source suitable replacements quickly. Those cores contained vast mental energy. The device it disrupted converts that energy from the cores."
He continued, "Since your construct absorbed them, it can supply the mental energy. I was concerned about regulating output, but your control over it resolves that. Your Highness, I ask only that you direct your construct to release mental energy for my experiment."
In short, Little White Chirp would serve as a living generator, repaying what it took.
Baisha was speechless. It ate, so it must regurgitate—fair, but absurd.
"What if I buy replacement cores from the market?" she ventured.
"They won't do," Jiang Gui said, his face impassive. "My purification process is unique."
Experiments demanded precision; the right materials were non-negotiable.
Baisha felt a twinge of resignation. "I'm not sure I can play human power plant effectively."
"If you join my lab, you'll be my assistant," Jiang Gui said without hesitation. "Should we develop the new material, I'll share five percent of the profits. Any other requests? Name them now."
The dean blinked, surprised. "New material, Professor? I hadn't heard."
"I don't report every project to the academy," Jiang Gui said, casting him a brief glance before refocusing on Baisha. "This material pertains to mechs."
Mechs? Any mech-related material, if successful, promised astronomical profits. Offering five percent was a gesture of remarkable sincerity.
At the mention of mechs, Baisha's demeanor shifted, her interest piqued. She pondered for a moment, then looked up. "I have one condition."
"Name it," Jiang Gui said.
"Can I apprentice under you?" she asked.
His brow creased, a rare crack in his composure. "This is our first meeting, Your Highness. Is your choice of mentor so… impulsive?"
"You're the top mechsmith," Baisha said matter-of-factly. "Besides, who says I can only have one mentor? Studying under you is no loss."
Jiang Gui fell silent, recalling the rumor among colleagues—that Baisha aimed to dethrone him. He'd dismissed it as absurd, but her audacity was proving the gossip true.
He rubbed his temple, murmuring, "I won't take you as a student."
A pause, then, "However, while you assist me, I'll act as an academic advisor, answering your questions and tailoring a study plan. Acceptable?"
"Deal," Baisha said, nodding. She recalled her construct, and a subtle shift rippled through her—something changed, yet nothing did.
"Send me your schedule," Jiang Gui said. "I'll arrange experiments during your free time." Reviewing her timetable, he squinted. "You're a mid-level mechsmith. Why are you taking the 'Foundational Triad'?"
The Triad—Basic Architecture, Basic Energy, and Basic Manufacturing—was beginner fare.
"To build my foundation," Baisha replied.
The dean quietly pulled Jiang Gui aside, whispering about Baisha's Federation upbringing—a fact well-known in noble circles but likely news to the reclusive professor. Jiang Gui's gaze turned thoughtful.
"Are you free today?" he asked her.
Baisha checked her mental calendar. "I'm free after three-thirty."
"Meet me at White Tower, Room 603, at four," he said, a faint, chilly smile flickering. "If you get lost, your construct knows the way."
Baisha grimaced. He was still sore about those cores.
At four sharp, Baisha entered the White Tower, one of Tianquan's architectural jewels. Home to the academy's elite mechsmiths, it embodied their credo: Precision, Boldness, Creation. Its rational grandeur captivated her.
She paused before the tower, gazing upward. Its spire tapered like a bamboo shoot, its grand entrance flanked by white reliefs of warriors in celestial robes, wielding torches and spears, seamlessly integrated into the lower facade. The upper tower, slimmer, bore three windows with bronze frames etched in spiral star-maps, their stained glass transitioning from azure to silver-snow, dusted with cascading stardust like an eternal waterfall.
"No wonder you found this place," Baisha said, summoning Little White Chirp and cradling it, rubbing its head. "It must shine at night."
The chirp chirped in agreement.
Baisha strode inside, taking the elevator to Room 603. Jiang Gui awaited, handing her a hazmat suit and face shield. "Bring a notebook and these. We're heading to the lab."
She nodded, packing the items, while Jiang Gui carried a compact black metal case. They entered the elevator, and he pressed for the negative third floor.
"Your personal lab is on B3?" Baisha asked.
"If you're an honorary professor at Tianquan, you get one," he said coolly.
The doors opened, and Jiang Gui led her to a decontamination chamber, donning his own protective gear and instructing her to do the same.
As Baisha tied her suit's cords, she asked, "Can you tell me about your research now?"
"I'm developing a new mech material," Jiang Gui said, activating a wall panel. With a "Unlock Successful", a metal wall rose, revealing a glass barrier—and the lab beyond.
"It's far from complete, but I've validated the approach," he said.
Baisha peered inside, her eyes widening. The material was bizarre—a viscous mass of interwoven filaments, its edges glowing faintly cyan. It felt… alive.
"Many mech materials derive from star-beast remains," Jiang Gui explained, slipping on gloves, his blue eyes calm. "This is no different, but it's unique. It's a mutation from star-beasts consuming a planet 3S级mental construct combat expert Tisiya's albatross subdued Cen's peregrine. It stems from a star-beast devouring a planet's fungal lifeform, granting it unconscious self-optimization. When damaged, it rebuilds rapidly, often stronger. Tests show it lacks sentience—just 'unconscious evolution.'"
Baisha frowned. "That sounds dangerous."
"It has limits," he said. "Too much damage, and it can't recover. It also has an evolutionary ceiling, tied to its energy reserves. The more energy it stores, the closer it approaches perfection."
A monster, unleashed, could wreak havoc.
"The Empire obliterated the source planet to prevent that," Jiang Gui said, checking a holodevice. "Samples are scarce, each precious. This isn't living fungus but a dead matrix infused with metal particles, preserving its evolution under our control."
He opened his case, revealing a device of interlocking rings. "This 'Commander' controls the material. Mental energy fed into it rotates the rings, issuing evolutionary directives."
His gaze sharpened. "But your construct ate my cores—one to sustain the material's activity, the other for the Commander."
Baisha winced.
"Losing one was manageable," he said icily. "Now, with none, we're on a clock."
She coughed. "Understood."
"Try channeling mental energy into the Commander," he instructed. "Increase it gradually until I say stop."
Baisha released Little White Chirp, which flapped obediently, settling on the table and focusing, its black eyes intent. The Commander hummed, spinning.
Beyond the glass, the fungal mass writhed like waves.
Jiang Gui monitored the data, glancing at the material. "Pause."
Baisha stabilized the output.
"Raise it," he said, repeating the cycle for ten minutes until Baisha's brow glistened with sweat. "Stop."
She exhaled, relieved. The chirp collapsed dramatically, belly-up, chirping complaints.
Jiang Gui logged the data—hardness, resilience, melting point, mental conductivity—charting the material's evolutionary paths to forge a superior, stable alloy.
Baisha leaned in, murmuring, "It's a shame its core strength—autonomous evolution—must be shackled."
"Uncontrolled, it's a threat," Jiang Gui said, unflinching. "The world demands trade-offs."
Natural evolution might be "perfect," but utility required imperfection.
"Can I see the metal particle composition?" Baisha asked. "I know it's confidential…"
"All data's on the holodevice," he said, gesturing to a wall-mounted screen. "Help yourself."
Baisha swiped through, finding the optimal fusion ratios from countless trials. "Have you considered preserving even a sliver of its evolutionary trait?"
Jiang Gui didn't turn. "Explain."
"Its ability to evolve and regress suggests a memory-like structure," she said. "What if we combined all stimuli, paired with ample energy, to enable dynamic control?"
Multiple evolutionary states—perhaps enough for a mech that evolves. She thought of Zhou Zhe, whose hypersensory suppression could be eased by such a machine.
Jiang Gui stared for seconds, silent.
Baisha fidgeted. "What?"
"Nothing," he said, a genuine smile breaking through—the first she'd seen. "You've guessed my next research phase. Intriguing."
"Recognizing my talent now, Professor?" she teased. "Who was it that swore not to take me as a student?"
His smile vanished at lightspeed.
Baisha froze. Shouldn't have pushed.
"I keep my word," he said abruptly. "For now, treat me as your mentor." He pivoted. "Drop Introduction to Architecture. That professor parrots his syllabus—you have it, so skip it. Take my History of Mech Construction instead; it's more practical."
Baisha hesitated. She had the syllabus and had enrolled in his course, but dropping another professor's class felt discourteous.
Seeing her indecision, Jiang Gui pressed, "More free time means more learning with me."
She opened the academic portal and unenrolled from Architecture—students could drop courses within the first two weeks.
The professor, receiving the notification, gaped. "???"
Thus, Baisha became Jiang Gui's half-disciple. Her days settled into a rhythm: classes, training, assisting Jiang Gui's experiments, and studying mech design under him. Cen Yuehuai's routine mirrored hers: classes, training, private lessons with Tisiya (often bruising), and evening Unbound City matches (equally bruising).
Within a month, Jiang Gui's experiment yielded preliminary results, and Cen climbed from level three to four in Unbound City's mech duels. Level four was modest, but the arena barred mental energy, relying solely on mech control and combat skill—a handicap for Imperials reliant on constructs. Cen trained with Tisiya by day and sparred with Sino by night, grappling with a disconnect: her construct mastery grew, but Unbound City offered no outlet to blend mental energy into her fighting style.
Sino shifted tactics, dueling her in real mechs on the training field, honing techniques. Cen's experience escalated from "getting hit" to "getting pummeled." Yet she was grateful—few would invest such time in a peer's growth.
"It's not charity," Sino said, sighing. "The Empire-Federation joint exercise is coming. Fourth-years are off to battlefield internships, so the team's drawn from first- to third-years. Our four major academies get no fixed slots—command wants Tianquan to compete against the others, with top performers joining the exercise."
"Her Highness and I are going," he added, smirking. "You've got a shot at catching up to the other academies' elites."
Cen grinned. "You want me in the exercise?"
"To better shield Her Highness and secure our team's lead," he said, chuckling. "What, let other academies boss Tianquan's students around?"
Cen closed her eyes. A Tianshu native, she'd hoped to study far from home to dodge family scrutiny. She'd applied to all four major academies, disclosing her circumstances, but only Tianquan granted her an exam chance.
"Two more hours of training tonight?" she offered.
Sweat traced her cheek to her neck. She licked her lips, tasting bitter clarity. "You're right. Tianquan's students bow to no one."