Chapter 269: The Unfinished Assignment
“So,” the old man asked as he stepped onto the podium, looking down at the students, “has anyone completed the assignment I left?”
Xu Zhi blinked.
The way he phrased it made it sound as though the problem he had assigned was difficult—so difficult that not everyone was expected to solve it.
Soon, someone stood up.
“Teacher Qin, I believe the star chart you gave us foretells disaster.”
The elderly man nodded. “And then?”
“Um…” The student’s face flushed with embarrassment before she shook her head.
“It’s fine. Sit down. Has anyone seen more?”
Another student rose. “Teacher Qin, the disaster shown in the chart may have already happened—or at least has already begun…?”
She sounded uncertain, her eyes searching the teacher’s face for confirmation.
Fortunately, the old man was not the nitpicking type. He nodded gently. “You’re not wrong. Next time, be more confident. Anyone else?”
The student shook her head and sat down.
“So, is there anyone else who would like to answer?”
Silence filled the classroom.
“It seems not.” He sighed regretfully. “Then the bonus credits I promised—awarded to the entire class if someone gave a satisfactory answer—will have to be canceled.”
Hm?
Xu Zhi perked up instantly.
Bonus credits? What bonus credits?
Oh. Canceled already.
Her classmates were really disappointing.
She very much wanted to say, Let me see it too—but unfortunately, even if she did, she probably wouldn’t understand.
The foundational content of this course was extremely broad and mostly laid groundwork from scratch: the names of various stars, ancient divination tools used by humanity, later refinements and methods. But as for how to interpret a star chart in practice? How to draw conclusions? That hadn’t been taught yet.
All Xu Zhi had gained so far were countless “mystical” terms and occult instruments.
Seeing that no one else stood up, the old man projected the assigned “homework” at the front of the room.
Xu Zhi focused her gaze.
It was a photograph of the night sky.
A layer of mist-like shadow seemed to shroud the image. Only several dozen particularly bright stars pierced through the haze, frozen in the picture.
Xu Zhi frowned.
Just as she expected—even seeing it with her own eyes, she felt nothing.
However, the real world’s internet was highly developed. If this was a past photograph worthy of being assigned as homework—one that foretold disaster—then surely it would have left traces online.
Especially since the teacher had promised bonus credits for a satisfactory answer. For credits, these students would undoubtedly rack their brains and search online thoroughly.
Since the teacher dared to make that promise, this likely wasn’t some old, easily searchable case.
Xu Zhi concluded that the photograph was probably recent.
So—
What recent disasters had occurred in the real world?
After nearly a week of self-study, she had gained a rough understanding of this world.
It was far larger than she had imagined.
A small Federation like the one she once knew was less than a quarter the size of the current city she lived in—[Lian City].
And in the real world, there were over a hundred such cities, large and small.
Cities were equivalent to nations.
Which meant the real world effectively contained over a hundred countries.
And this was after the original “Great Cataclysm”—also known as the “Night of Worldfall”—had swallowed nearly half the land and nations into the “Lost Lands.”
Of course, more than a hundred cities had survived initially. But with half the world gone, resources had become scarce. The remaining cities waged prolonged wars. Many eventually vanished, leading to the current geopolitical structure.
According to historical records, before the Great Cataclysm, extraordinary abilities did exist—but they were weak and limited. It was only after the catastrophe that extraordinary power surged explosively, becoming far stronger and more diverse.
As for why extraordinary power suddenly developed so rapidly after the disaster, no official explanation existed.
Xu Zhi had searched online. There was no confirmed theory—only speculation.
One widely supported hypothesis claimed that the Great Cataclysm triggered a mutation in extraordinary energy. The source of that mutation lay within the Lost Lands. Thus, the Lost Lands contained richer extraordinary species and greater concentrations of energy. The dangers within were said to guard the origin of that mutation.
If one could obtain that source, perhaps one could grasp the very origin of extraordinary power in this world.
Xu Zhi had to admit—
When she first read that theory, she had briefly imagined what it would be like if she obtained such a thing.
But she quickly dismissed it as fantasy.
It was baseless speculation. Indulging in a moment of imagination was fine—believing it outright would be madness.
In any case, the world was enormous.
Fortunately, the internet was equally expansive. Because of the Great Cataclysm—and other historical reasons—people remained highly sensitive to large-scale disasters.
For example, even upper-level residents closely monitored whether fog rose in the lower districts.
Even netizens thousands of miles apart could instantly learn of disasters elsewhere. And major disasters almost always dominated headlines.
Xu Zhi had been checking trending news daily to better understand this world.
But—
She had seen no reports of disasters.
While she pondered, the teacher at the podium began explaining the star chart.
Xu Zhi struggled to follow.
She hadn’t attended prior classes, and many concepts the teacher skimmed over were entirely new to her. Still, he showed no sign of accommodating the new student; anything previously taught was passed over quickly.
As a result, she felt somewhat lost.
But not completely.
At certain points, she could connect what he said to the “basic knowledge” she had studied. Gradually, she understood—so the brightness of this star, its proximity to another star—these symbolized specific meanings.
The old man elaborated on various possible interpretations before pointing at the hazy region in the chart.
“When celestial mist obscures the Fate Star, concealing destiny and refusing all attempts at observation, it is an extremely rare phenomenon.”
“The last time it occurred was many years ago.”
“This often signifies that what is about to happen—or is already happening—is exceedingly… concealed.”
