Chapter 47: The Old Fox’s Secret

“A secret? Ahaha, Professor Fulin, whatever are you talking about…”

“Enough. Liyang is a simple-minded child; you can fool her all you like, but there’s no need to pretend in front of me.”

Fulin’s smile belied the merciless edge in her words.

A heavy feeling settled in Yalin’s chest.

As he had suspected, this matter could not be concealed forever.

Fulin was right; Liyang’s guileless nature meant Yalin was entirely confident he could deceive her.

However, this old fox was a different matter entirely; in her presence, Yalin felt no desire to hide anything at all.

After all, any attempt at concealment would simply be a wasted effort.

“I have heard quite a bit about Nabel. He is a cruel murderer whose greatest pleasure lies in torturing his victims to death.

Furthermore, he is utterly merciless; anyone who catches his eye is, without exception, hunted down and eradicated, with no chance of survival whatsoever.”

Fulin’s inscrutable gaze swept over Yalin.

“Therefore, I find it highly unlikely that an ordinary student could have escaped his clutches.”

“Professor, why don’t you simply speak plainly? What exactly is it you wish to know?”

Yalin stated directly.

Since Fulin had laid her cards on the table so clearly, he saw no point in continuing his pretense.

Truth be told, a hint of regret now gnawed at him.

In fact, it was more than a hint—it was profound regret.

He thought back to that time: had he known Fulin was Liyang’s adoptive mother, he would never have acted so impulsively to save Liyang.

Yet, there was nothing to be done; the past was immutable, and complaints served no purpose.

‘Could the Conceptual Deity kill Fulin?’

This thought flashed through Yalin’s mind, only to be dismissed moments later.

Setting aside whether he was even Fulin’s match, even if he could truly kill her, it would not resolve the problem at its root.

For killing Fulin would undoubtedly lead to his immediate pursuit by Alanmia, and indeed, by the entire kingdom.

And once his medium was exhausted, what power could a mere minnow like him possibly wield in resistance?

Given the current circumstances, he could only bide his time and observe.

However, judging by Fulin’s last statement, it seemed she was unaware that Nabel had been killed, believing instead that he had merely employed some minor tricks to escape.

Presumably, she was not privy to the full details of the incident, her understanding largely based on conjecture.

Thus, there was no immediate need for open hostility.

Neither spoke, their gazes locked, betraying no emotion.

After several seconds of stalemate, Fulin suddenly let out a soft chuckle.

With her laughter, the atmosphere, which had moments ago been glacial, instantly dissipated.

“Hahaha, don’t be so tense. I have no intention of forcing you to reveal your secrets; quite the opposite, I am helping you keep them.”

She extended a hand, tapping on the table.

“Such a significant event occurred, yet for all these days, no one has come looking for you, and even the Academy remains oblivious. Does that not strike you as odd?”

Yalin understood in an instant.

Indeed, he had been puzzled by it himself.

For the silence over the past many days had been unnerving.

A ritual performed by the Abyssal Church was an event significant enough to alarm the highest echelons of the kingdom.

Following that incident, even the Royal Court Archmage, directly affiliated with the capital, had personally hastened to Alanmia to investigate, a clear testament to their serious concern.

Yalin had even prepared his excuses, knowing that a simple inquiry to Liyang would easily reveal him as the last person to have seen Nabel.

Yet, the reality was that no one seemed to care; his life continued as normal, with no one coming to his door.

He had never imagined that Professor Fulin would be the one to offer assistance from the shadows.

“Do not underestimate me merely because I am an Academy professor,” Fulin began, a hint of pride in her voice. “Over the years, the students I have taught are scattered across the four corners of the world, lending a certain weight to my words.”

“It was my guarantee that led them to entrust this matter to me, ensuring no one was sent to trouble you.”

“So that’s how it was… Thank you, Professor, truly.”

Yalin bowed his head slightly, his wariness towards Fulin considerably diminished.

“It is nothing,” Fulin explained in a placid tone. “For all this time, you have remained inconspicuous within the Academy, which suggests you are not keen on others discovering your secrets.

Nevertheless, you risked so much to save Liyang, and for that, I had no reason not to offer this small assistance.”

She understood Yalin’s perspective perfectly, for most of the power in this world originated from the gods.

The gods were capricious, their temperaments prone to sudden shifts; it was not uncommon for an inconspicuous beggar by the roadside to suddenly receive a divine blessing one day and instantly possess power capable of shattering worlds.

However, immense power often brought calamity and fear, leading many to prefer blending into the crowd rather than revealing their true identities.

Fulin rose to her feet, slowly removing her wide-brimmed wizard’s hat and hanging it on a nearby coat rack.

Her silken long hair cascaded down, framing her dignified features with an air of mature grace, and she glanced at the pocket watch she drew from her attire.

“By my reckoning, Liyang should have finished crying by now, shouldn’t she?”

“Speaking here is no longer ideal, as she might overhear us. If you have more time, perhaps we could continue our discussion in my room?”

“I would be delighted.”

Yalin also stood, following closely behind Fulin.

Her words were exceptionally tempting; Yalin had a premonition that many of the questions lingering in his mind might find their answers with Fulin.

“Excellent. I had thought you might find an old woman like me tedious… But on another note, would you care to guess my age?”

“Is that truly appropriate? Isn’t it rather impolite to casually guess a woman’s age?”

“It’s quite alright. I am not like most women; I find it rather amusing.”

Fulin closed the study door, then settled into the chair before her desk, a captivating smile gracing her lips.

Yalin scrutinized her for a moment, then shook his head with a wry smile. “My apologies, I truly cannot guess.”

“Heh heh, even a wild guess will do.”

“If this were our first meeting, I would hazard thirty. However, I have heard some rumors about you… so, around ninety?”

“You are still far too conservative.”

Fulin shook her head, then pushed up her sleeve, revealing a segment of her wrist.

In stark contrast to the smooth skin of her face, Fulin’s wrist bore numerous wrinkles, exuding an aura of venerable age.

“In truth, I am already over one hundred and sixty years old this year.”

“One—one hundred and sixty?”

Yalin was utterly astonished.

While he knew Fulin was advanced in age, he had never imagined it would be to such an extent.

Even considering that alchemists typically enjoyed longer lifespans, they rarely lived past a century.

And that was under the most meticulously maintained conditions.

One hundred and sixty years old — that utterly surpassed the human realm.

‘This was purely an old monster (TL Note: (lǎo yāoguài) is a colloquial Chinese term for an ancient, often powerful and sometimes malevolent, supernatural being or an extremely old person.), wasn’t it?’

“My apologies, that was rude of me.”

Yalin cleared his throat several times, attempting to mask his recent reaction.

“It’s quite alright. Few people know my true age, and their reactions are often far more astonished than yours.”

Fulin did not seem to mind. She gazed at the layers of wrinkles on her wrist, appearing lost in thought.

“Do you know why I have been able to live for such an extended period?”

“I do not…”

“It is quite simple: I am one favored by Castia (TL Note:  (juàngù) translates to ‘favor’ or ‘blessing’, indicating special protection or grace from a deity or powerful entity.).”