That was Fang Qian just now.
Guan Tong thought as he walked down the street.
He wasn’t blind, nor did he have amnesia, and his vigilance was far above average. If Fang Qian could recognize him as they brushed past one another, he naturally recognized her too.
But because of what had happened before, he had long since cut ties with Fang Qian. Even if they bumped into each other now, it stirred no emotional reaction—he simply treated her as a stranger and ignored her.
He was not surprised that Fang Qian was still alive.
Her parents had worked at the Research Institute and leaked hidden intelligence about the rules. If there had been a first leak, there might well have been a second.
Whether her parents had been held accountable, Guan Tong did not know, and he did not care.
What he cared about now was finding out “Big Sister”’s true identity as quickly as possible, and then returning the favor tooth for tooth.
Coming to Pinglu now might be an opportunity.
If Big Sister had connections with the higher-ups, then coming to Pinglu—the place where the higher-ups had relocated—would increase his chances of finding the real person.
After all, Pinglu and Yong'an were not the sa.
Yong'an, as the capital of Beixing for a century, had its defenses planned down to every last detail; infiltration there was almost impossible.
Pinglu, however, was just an ordinary mountain city—hardly ever considered a major tropolis. Its defenses weren’t in the sa league as Yong'an’s.
That gave Guan Tong so openings.
Two hours later, he arrived at the marked location on the map.
The residential area seed converted from several large factory buildings, divided into many small rooms. When Guan Tong arrived, soone assigned him one.
He went inside to take a look; it was essentially no different from a cheap hotel room that cost twenty yuan a night.
Guan Tong was not picky. He had even lived for a while in a property managent storage room, which showed how high his tolerance was.
Besides, if he wanted, he could live in his own shelter outside and then, once the academy matters were settled, seamlessly move into a nicer dormitory prepared for lecturers.
But he had entered the city early to get familiar with things. If he planned to stay on the fringe, he needed the experience of being outside.
At dinner ti, managent handed out canned food according to headcount.
After people started moving into shelters, most als beca canned food. Many hadn’t eaten a steaming-hot cooked dish for months.
It wasn’t by choice. In this era where efficiency and survival trumped all, live-cooked als—mundane in peaceful tis—beca a luxury.
Recently, many people who still had decent conditions flaunted their status online by posting pictures of ho-cooked dishes. Before the Doomsday Rules era, that would have been laughable, but now it was a legitimate ans of showing off.
Guan Tong didn’t care. He wasn’t fastidious about food; as long as it filled him and provided enough nutrition, it was fine.
Perhaps because Mind Power had been used to modify his body, his appetite had weakened over the past year.
By rights, he was a nineteen-year-old, over 1.8 ters tall, the kind of guy who should be ravenous half an hour after a noon al, and three hearty als a day would be standard.
But in reality, he now felt one al a day was enough. Whether that trend was good or bad was hard to say.
People on forums had debated this, arguing it might be a form of human evolution—maybe humans would one day no longer need to eat. Others countered that if humans no longer needed to eat, drink, or sleep, would they still be human, or so other species entirely?
Guan Tong remained neutral. He believed in going with the flow; as long as his body felt fine, there was no need to resist its changes.
Over the next few days, beyond his daily Mind Power practice, he wandered around the city and occasionally chatted with locals and outsiders.
On the morning of the tenth, he received a phone call.
When he answered, an elderly voice ca through.
“Hello, is this Mr. Guan?”
“This is Guan Tong. Who is this?”
“I am the Dean of the Mind Power Developnt Academy, Zhou Qinfeng.”
“So you’re Dean Zhou.”
After introducing himself, Zhou Qinfeng invited Guan Tong to the academy for a face-to-face eting.
Following the address, Guan Tong went to the highest area of the mountain city. A university gate there had a temporary sign reading Mind Power Developnt Academy.
“This used to be Pinglu University.”
Pinglu University was well-known in Beixing, one of the best universities in the western region.
Its reputation ca from being built at the city’s highest point, where dormitories offered breathtaking views of mountains, ravines, and colorful skies. At one ti, Pinglu University’s dorms had been rated a “five-star scenic spot” by students.
After the Doomsday Rules era, universities were shut down, and Pinglu University was no exception. It made sense that the academy had requisitioned the campus.
He found the faculty building and knocked on the door of an office on the ninth floor.
“Co in,” Zhou Qinfeng’s voice called.
Guan Tong pushed open the door and found a small eting room with six people seated inside.
Seeing this, he thought they were having a eting and moved to leave, but Zhou Qinfeng stopped him.
“You must be Mr. Guan?”
“Yes.”
“Please, have a seat. These are faculty mbers of the academy, and they are all related to the acting lecturer position.”
Hearing that, Guan Tong thought: Is this going to be an interview?
He had assud that with Shi Jingyi’s recomndation, he would be hired without testing. Now it seed things were not that simple.
After he sat down, a middle-aged man asked first, “Mr. Guan, you look so young—how old are you?”
“Nineteen,” Guan Tong answered.
“…”
A hush fell over the room. Dean Zhou’s smile turned slightly helpless.
When Shi Jingyi recomnded him, no one had asked about age. Although Shi Jingyi herself wasn’t very old—only in her twenties—nineteen was undeniable ly young.
“Nineteen… if I may be frank, most of our students are older than that. Are you sure you can win the students’ respect as an instructor?”
Guan Tong looked at the speaker. He recognized the middle-aged man—actually, he recognized all of them, since they were academy lecturers he had seen in online classes.
“Winning students’ respect isn’t about age,” Guan Tong replied coolly, “it should be about ability.”
“So you’re very confident in your ability?”
“Well…” Zhou Qinfeng intervened, “since Lecturer Jingyi recomnded him, I don’t think ability should be a problem.”
“I admire Lecturer Jingyi’s skill, but whether the person she recomnded is suitable is another matter,” another man said. “I’ve been researching Mind Power circulation. Talking a thousand words is no substitute for testing it firsthand.”
Guan Tong asked, “How do you want to test it?”
“The simplest way is through contact—using circulating Mind Power to ‘attack’ one another. If soone can break the other’s Mind Power loop, it shows finer, more precise control.”
The man hesitated, then added, “Of course, the amount of Mind Power matters too. I won’t take advantage of you; let’s both use no more than 100 points of Mind Power. How about that?”
Guan Tong said, “You use 100 points. I’ll use 20 points—that will be enough.”
“What! What did you say?” The man rose to his feet in anger, and the others looked stunned.
“If you win under equal conditions, there’s nothing to be proud of,” Guan Tong said calmly. “If I’m going to be an acting lecturer, winning by such a small margin isn’t acceptable.”
Since they gave him no respect and imdiately challenged him, he wouldn’t be soft. He had to strike back decisively, or those people would continue to belittle him for being young.
“All right, don’t just talk—let’s see what you can actually do!” the man snapped, flushed with anger.
Dean Zhou opened his mouth to say sothing but fell silent when he saw Guan Tong stand up as well.
He wanted to see whether Guan Tong could really win using one-fifth the Mind Power. If he could, then this acting lecturer position might truly belong to him.
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