Dragon Raja; Chapter 42: The Dictator (4)

Dragon Raja

“We’ve never found any trace of the White Emperor’s lineage. The White Emperor was a branch of dragons close to humanity—if Lu Mingfei is the White Emperor’s descendant, it might not be a bad thing,” Guderian said.

Manstein pulled out a pipe, lit it, took a few deep drags, and smiled bitterly. “Guderian, don’t fool yourself. Neither of us believes the White Emperor would help humanity. The first of the Three Dragon Principles is that dragons and humans are fundamentally different. The chasm between us and dragons is far deeper than the hatred between the Black Emperor and the White Emperor. The Ice Sea Copper Pillar mentions that the White Emperor ‘stained the silver throne with the blood of the lowly,’ implying the White Emperor’s brutality. The White Emperor may have only used humans to make up for his shortcomings. He was created by the Black Emperor and was weaker in power. But he is still an outsider—he could never truly sympathize with humanity.”

Guderian’s face turned pale, and he fell silent, the ancient clock on the wall ticking.

“After all, we’re not truly human either,” he said quietly after a long time. “Does it really matter if it’s the Black Emperor or the White Emperor lineage? Must we impose bloodline distinctions on these children?”

Professor Manstein puffed on his pipe forcefully. “You’re protecting your student, but have you considered the consequences? If the White Emperor is indeed the ‘Ruthless King’ as the Black Emperor called him, who knows how the White Emperor’s lineage would treat humanity? Once his bloodline awakens, Lu Mingfei could become our enemy. Chu Zihang’s golden dragon eyes couldn’t suppress him—he might possess unparalleled potential. Who would dare let him live freely in this college?”

“What are you suggesting?” Guderian raised his head sharply, his voice loud.

“Write a report and submit it to the principal,” Manstein said quietly.

A chill ran through Guderian. “And what would be the result of submitting such a report?”

“Isolate Lu Mingfei, study him. He cannot remain as a student, nor can he leave this college until his identity is proven. Don’t hesitate—make the call now, and don’t get yourself involved.” Manstein pulled out his phone and handed it to Guderian.

Guderian was silent for a long time, then grabbed Manstein’s hand, slowly but firmly closing the phone.

“Lu Mingfei…” Professor Guderian paused before finally saying the line he had long decided upon, “is a good kid.”

Manstein was stunned, confused. Academically, Manstein wasn’t as strong as Guderian. Since university, he had copied Guderian’s assignments, right up to his doctoral degree. He knew that anything his friend said offhand could have deep meaning, and that now was not the time to appear clueless; he had to think it through before responding.

Manstein bowed his head in thought. The antique clock on the wall ticked, and time passed by second by second.

“Are you saying… that his human side will resist the call of the White Emperor’s blood?” Manstein said uncertainly. “Alright, I give up. Tell me the answer.”

Guderian scratched his head. “I… didn’t mean anything special. I just remembered Nono told me that when he received a letter from his parents, he cried uncontrollably in the girls’ restroom.”

“And what does that have to do with being a descendant of the White Emperor?”

“Nothing at all. As a kid, I think he’s lonely, but also kind. He’s a good kid. We can’t just take away his chance, right? Who would want to be a specimen?” Guderian looked into his old friend’s eyes. “We both remember our childhoods, don’t we? We were specimens too, back then. When we two reached out to grasp each other’s hands across the iron bars… weren’t you sad back then, too?”

Manstein was stunned, then lowered his head, quietly looking at the phone in his hand. He could hear echoes from decades ago:

“Separate those crazy kids! What are they doing?”

“Dammit! Let go! I warn you, don’t get yourself in trouble!”

“It’s time for electroshock therapy! Pull them apart! Take him to the electrotherapy room!”

He still remembered the pain of electroshock, like shattered blades cutting through his body. After every violent jolt, there was a faint burnt smell, and it made him want to cry. Back then, he always looked at the only small window in the confinement room, longing to fly away like a bird, longing for something to fall from the sky and change his life.

Finger tossed the stripped goose leg back onto the plate, belched, leaned forward, and looked directly at Lu Mingfei. “Wanna hear… a secret trick?”

“A secret trick?”

Finger lowered his voice. “All exams are just tools, and tools are made by people. Anything people create must have a flaw!”

“Senior brother!” Lu Mingfei perked up, switching to the most cordial form of address. “Do you have a good idea?”

“Do you mind cheating?” Finger’s eyes glinted.

“I absolutely… don’t mind!”

“A promising talent!” Finger was quite impressed by Lu Mingfei’s decisiveness. “Remember, to survive in this college, we must have a bottom line!”

“A bottom line?” Lu Mingfei couldn’t believe such a principled phrase came from Finger.

“The bottom line must be set at negative three meters!” Finger put his hand on the floor. “Yes, that’s right. Dig down another three meters, and that’s our bottom line!”

“That’s so true!” Lu Mingfei was moved by his senior.

“In this place where geniuses and madmen are as common as cows, you must have a bottom line, but it can’t be any higher than negative three meters; otherwise, you’re finished.” Finger had a mysterious look on his face. “To be well-prepared, we must fully understand what we’re cheating on! Junior, do you know how many dragon texts have been deciphered so far?”

“You mean… single words?”

“Wrong! It’s by sentences! There are only seventy-six in total!” Finger had a certain instructor-like demeanor. “Language has two parts: words and grammar. Combine them, and you get an infinite number of sentences. But draconic language is a dead script; only the characters remain, but the grammar is lost. The last person in history to know the dragon grammar was Nicholas Flamel…”

“Nico… Nico… Nico what?” Lu Mingfei couldn’t remember.

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