Chapter 89: A Creative Spark
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Academy?
Seeing the message left by “Three Thousand Wicked Disciples,” Yu Sheng was puzzled. The word “Academy” seemed oddly familiar. Then it clicked. He remembered hearing Bai Li Qing casually mention it in a conversation they had earlier. Not only that, he’d also seen a mention of it in some old files when he was fiddling with his phone earlier. Finally, the pieces fell into place.
The files said the Academy was an organization based beyond the Borderland, with its headquarters located on a faraway planet called “Terra.” They specialized in passing down knowledge, archaeological discoveries, technology research, and fighting against ancient entities that threatened mortal sanity. Essentially, it was like a massive university—an enormous university. The people they sent out into the world often had the title of “Professor.”
If they were an academic group fascinated by strange artifacts, then it made sense that they would be interested in the odd metal device Yu Sheng had found.
But there was a problem. Unlike other “Otherworld Organizations,” the Academy was notoriously hard to approach—they only communicated officially with other groups, and were incredibly secretive otherwise. Yu Sheng, being a total rookie in this field, barely knew any “colleagues” at all. Where would he even start looking for an Academy “Professor”?
Yu Sheng frowned, hesitated for a moment, then sent “Three Thousand Wicked Disciples” a message: “How can I contact the Academy? Do you have any leads?” But this time, he waited and waited, and no new message came. It seemed like the person had logged off right after their last reply.
“Well, at least it’s a lead,” Yu Sheng sighed, pocketing his phone. He picked up the black metal device, turning it over carefully in his hands.
He found the strange carvings that “Three Thousand Wicked Disciples” had mentioned—markings he hadn’t even noticed when he took pictures earlier, but the keen-eyed “netizen” had spotted them.
The markings looked like some sort of writing, though they were worn down. They were deeply engraved, making them still visible, but Yu Sheng had no clue what they meant. He’d never seen symbols like these before—all curves and loops.
Just then, Yu Sheng felt his phone vibrate again. A reply?!
He quickly took out his phone, only to find that it wasn’t “Three Thousand Wicked Disciples.” Instead, it was Little Red Riding Hood’s icon flashing in his private messages.
He opened it. The message read: “I saw those pictures and your messages—you didn’t find that thing in your own ‘house,’ did you?!”
“Yeah,” Yu Sheng replied, not hiding anything. “I didn’t say so because I didn’t want to freak anyone out.”
“Good thing you didn’t. That’d mess with people’s heads. By the way, how did you even find it? Isn’t Wutong Road No. 66 your ‘territory’? Why would something you don’t recognize appear in your own house?”
“There’s all sorts of weird stuff in this house,” Yu Sheng sighed as he typed. “I found Irene in one of the rooms too. There’s always random junk popping up.”
The little doll, who had been watching from the side, immediately head-butted Yu Sheng’s arm. “Why are you dragging me into this?! And what do you mean by random junk—am I random junk?!”
Yu Sheng patted Irene’s head absentmindedly. “I’m just saying, to add emphasis and a bit of drama, you know…”
After calming Irene, he described to Little Red Riding Hood how he had found the metal device. At the end, he added: “Have you ever seen anything like it?”
“Artifacts appearing in the Otherworld aren’t unusual,” Little Red Riding Hood replied. “But an artifact from somewhere else appearing in an Otherworld? Now that’s strange. Of course, we can’t be sure it’s actually from ‘outside.’ It could very well be a part of Wutong Road No. 66 that you just hadn’t noticed. After all, I don’t know much about you or your house,” she added. “As for that metal device, I’ve never seen anything like it, but I’d advise you not to go asking about it all over the Borderland Network. For one, you don’t have enough reliable information, so it’s unlikely you’ll find anything useful. Also, there are all kinds of people in the Network—you might end up being scammed.”
After a moment, another message from Little Red Riding Hood came in: “For now, just hold onto it. If a collector of oddities turns up, you might be able to sell it for a good price. Meanwhile, keep an eye out and see if any similar things ‘appear’ again. This thing looks like a part—maybe there are other pieces out there…”
Yu Sheng stared at the message, then typed back quickly: “You mean this piece of junk could be worth money?!”
This time, there was a noticeable delay before Little Red Riding Hood replied: “…There are always collectors interested in strange items, especially those brought back from the Otherworld, as long as they’re not dangerous. If you can prove it’s genuinely ‘recovered from an Otherworld,’ you’re good.”
“Ah, and how do I prove that? Are there people who authenticate these things?”
“The Special Affairs Bureau can authenticate it. Large organizations like the Academy, the Bamosa Hermit Society, or the Oddities and Antiquities Association also have experts for this. Their certificates are highly credible… Are you short on cash?”
Yu Sheng hesitated, glancing at Foxy, who had just pulled a chicken leg out of her tail and started munching.
He typed with a bit of embarrassment: “You know, I’m supporting two people right now, and Foxy has a massive appetite… My personal work has also hit a bit of a ‘rough patch.'”
The main reason for his “rough patch” was that he’d recently discovered some of his fans had developed some rather peculiar tastes from his stories, which had made him seriously doubt both his creative direction and his abilities.
Little Red Riding Hood’s reply came quickly, with no curiosity about Yu Sheng’s “personal work”: “Then you could try getting the Special Affairs Bureau to issue a certificate. They’d believe you if you said it was from the Otherworld—unless they don’t recognize Wutong Road No. 66 as an Otherworld.”
A smile spread across Yu Sheng’s face. It seemed like Foxy’s meals and Irene’s new TV might be sorted out after all. But just then, another thought struck him—one that was incredibly bold, creative, tempting, and, above all, practical. The idea clanged into his head like a bell.
It shimmered in his mind, and Yu Sheng’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Wait a second—does this mean anything brought from an Otherworld, as long as it’s not dangerous, can be certified?!”
Little Red Riding Hood’s reply took almost half a minute: “Huh?”
Then, before Yu Sheng could type another word, she added: “Wait, I think I know what you’re planning! Are you seriously thinking of…”
Yu Sheng looked around the living room.
Everything seemed valuable.
Even the moldy, peeling wallpaper in the corners seemed to glow with a golden hue.
But then his phone vibrated again, and Little Red Riding Hood sent a string of messages in rapid succession: “Collectors have standards, you know! At least make it look like something with a story, something rare! They won’t want to show off plastic slippers, old newspapers, or empty bottles! How did you even come up with this—”
Yu Sheng blinked at the barrage of messages, stunned. He could practically feel the shock and disbelief radiating from the words, as if a high school girl somewhere was completely flabbergasted. At that very moment, elsewhere at the edge of the Old City District, Little Red Riding Hood lay in her bed, staring at her phone, still in shock.
“Still not sleeping?” came a young voice from above. A face appeared over the top bunk—a girl with long black hair, looking even younger than Little Red Riding Hood. She glanced at the phone in Little Red Riding Hood’s hand, recognizing the interface. “Borderland Network—any new jobs?”
“Nah, just chatting. Got seriously shocked.” Little Red Riding Hood said casually.
“Something that shocked you? Did someone post a streaking pic on the public board?”
Little Red Riding Hood didn’t even look up. “Nope. Someone from the Otherworld wants to sell off their household junk.”
The girl on the top bunk slipped, losing her balance, and fell halfway down before her hair caught onto the metal frame, leaving her dangling like a ghost beside Little Red Riding Hood’s bed. She swayed gently, then spoke: “Is this some new horror story thread?”
“Long Hair, can you not talk to me in such a creepy position?” Little Red Riding Hood glared at her “roommate” hanging there in her white nightgown. Anyone dropping by the dorm would probably get scared out of their wits. “And I’m serious—if there’s an Otherworld, and an entity living there who’s just like a human, who can come and go freely and even has a legal identity in the human world, then doesn’t that mean…”
The girl hanging from the bed thought for a moment, her face shocked. “I get it now—you mean that guy you’ve been talking to lately… Oh no! He really found a loophole!”