Shortly after the communication with Dean Avery ended, Jie Ming was still mentally planning his research and teaching preparations for the next decade when his portable communicator flickered again, untimely as ever.
Jie Ming couldn’t help but chuckle.
Normally, this communicator was as silent as a decorative trinket, yet today it buzzed repeatedly, as if every matter had conspired to converge at this moment.
He casually connected the call, and the figure on the light screen made him pause briefly before understanding dawned.
It was Senior Sister Viola.
Since the war on the Destruction Demon God’s plane had concluded, it was only natural she’d return.
At this moment, though her eyes still carried a trace of the unerasable fatigue of a researcher, her overall demeanor was far better than when she was tirelessly processing data day and night on the Frostflame Plane. The steady aura of a sixth-grade wizard was also increasingly pronounced.
“Senior Sister, long time no see,” Jie Ming greeted with a smile.
“Just got back not long ago,” Viola waved dismissively, her tone still carrying that familiar hint of laziness. She got straight to the point. “You’ve heard about the opening of Noren Academy in Elosia, right?”
Jie Ming nodded. “Just spoke with Dean Avery. I’ve agreed to take a teaching position.”“You’re going too?” Viola raised an eyebrow, then flashed a smug “kindred spirit” grin. “Heh, I knew it! Who could resist those benefits?”
Seeing Jie Ming’s curiosity, Viola explained in detail. “The benefits for academy instructors vary by rank. For wizards below fifth grade like you, with mandatory expedition duties and fixed rest periods, the perk is an extended rest period, giving you more time to freely manage.”
She pointed at herself, her tone shifting. “But for those at fifth grade and above like me, the rules flip. The civilization worries we old-timers might wander too long or lock ourselves in labs for millennia, neglecting our duty to pass on knowledge. So, they mandate periodic rest periods. The perk for teaching is reducing the length of that mandatory rest!”
She grimaced as if recalling something dreadful. “For a sixth-grade wizard like me, a mandatory rest period can easily exceed a thousand years! If I don’t find ways to cut it down, just sitting there twiddling my thumbs would drive me mad! How is that more fun than lab work or exploring other planes?”
Jie Ming suddenly understood. The instructor benefits were tailored to each wizard’s needs, using “time” as bait to draw wizards of different stages into education.
“By the way,” Viola added, as if remembering something, “Mentor Clark has returned to Noren Academy No. 13. If you have time, you should drop by.”
Jie Ming was taken aback. “Mentor’s looking for me? What’s the matter?”
Viola just gave a mysterious smile and waved. “Go see for yourself. I’ve got data to process, so I’m hanging up!”
Without waiting for Jie Ming to press further, the communication abruptly ended.
Staring at the darkened light screen, Jie Ming’s curiosity deepened.
Mentor Clark seeking him out? That was unusual.
Knowing his mentor, a man who’d practically weld himself to the lab bench, he wouldn’t summon a student without good reason.
Though skeptical, a few days later, Jie Ming set aside his research and returned to the familiar Noren No. 13 Plane via teleportation array, heading straight to Mentor Clark’s office.
In the office filled with scrolls, instruments, and various unidentified biological specimens, permeated with the mingled scents of parchment and alchemical reagents, Jie Ming saw his mentor again.
Mentor Clark was as eccentric as ever—hair slightly disheveled, eyes shadowed with the fatigue of chronic sleep deprivation.
His wizard robe, likely the same one from years ago, bore new stains and burn marks of unclear purpose, exuding a strong “beast of burden” vibe.
Seeing Jie Ming appear, Clark looked up from a pile of complex energy structure diagrams, genuine surprise flickering in his cloudy eyes.
“Jie Ming? What are you doing back here?”
Jie Ming was even more surprised. “Didn’t you ask Senior Sister Viola to tell me to come back?”
Clark blinked blankly, then, as if realizing something, shook his head helplessly and muttered, “That crazy girl…”
He said no more, returning his focus to the diagrams as if Jie Ming’s arrival was a minor interruption.
Jie Ming couldn’t help but laugh and cry, realizing he’d been pranked by Senior Sister Viola.
Since he was already here, he opened his mouth to say something…
Knock, knock, knock.
A soft knock came at the door.
Clark didn’t look up, his tone flat. “Come in.”
The office door was cautiously pushed open a crack, and a small head peeked in.
It was a boy, barely ten years old, dressed in a clean apprentice robe, his clear eyes tinged with nervousness.
When he saw Jie Ming, a stranger, in the room alongside Mentor Clark, he froze, a flash of panic crossing his face.
But he quickly took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and walked in properly, bowing respectfully to both Clark and Jie Ming with standard wizard etiquette.
“Mentor Clark, this is the observation data summary you requested from last week,” the boy said in a clear voice, presenting a thick stack of documents respectfully to the desk.
Clark merely grunted, taking the documents and placing them atop an already towering pile of files.
The boy bowed again, then quietly retreated, gently closing the door.
Jie Ming said nothing during the exchange, only watching the boy’s departing figure with interest.
Once the door was fully closed, he turned to his mentor, still buried in his diagrams, and teased with a hint of disbelief, “Mentor, don’t tell me… that’s my ‘junior brother’?”
Noren Academy admitted new students every five years, so in a broad sense, Jie Ming had thousands of “junior brothers.”
But the “junior brother” he referred to now was a direct disciple personally accepted by Mentor Clark.
Jie Ming knew his mentor too well—reclusive, exacting, and loathing wasted time.
Ordinary wizard apprentices, no matter how talented, wouldn’t even set foot in this office unless they caught his eye.
For that boy to walk in so naturally to deliver documents, his status was clear—he was like Jie Ming had been back then.
Clark finally lifted his eyes, glancing at Jie Ming and giving a faint nod, confirming it.
Then he added, “Average aptitude, but he has his own ideas.”
Coming from Clark, this was already high praise for an apprentice.
Looking at the closed door, as if he could still see the boy’s figure trying to appear composed yet betraying youthful inexperience, Jie Ming felt a strange sensation, a momentary daze.
Time seemed to overlap in that instant.
Once, he too was a boy stepping cautiously into this office, filled with unease and aspiration.
Now, he stood here as a “senior,” witnessing the quiet beginning of a new cycle.