“Zhou Qianlin, do you happen to know what I’ll be teaching at your university?” Lan Jue’s question confused Zhou Qianlin. Wasn’t he going to be a mecha instructor?
Lan Jue unfolded the acceptance letter in his hand, and read from it’s contents. “We are happy to accept Mister Lan Jue as an associate professor of National Eastern University, hereby responsible for the ad-hoc curriculum of… Etiquette.” The communicator clicked off, his words still hanging in the air. Expected a mecha teacher, eh? How quaint.
Zhou Qianlin stared at the quiet communicator in her hand, her once proud demeanor now dumbfounded. “Etiquette? Since when did the University have this course? What is he even going to teach?”
Lan Jue saw the communicator strapped to his wrist hum, but all it accomplished was to make him laugh and shake his head. Since when did these mood swings become so common, he thought. Probably because she looks so much like Hera.
His memory conjured up that charming face, so like Hera’s, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his chest. And yet, at the same time he was looking forward to taking his post in the University.
He knew very well she wasn’t Hera, but in the deep recesses of his heart he still anticipated seeing her. At the very least, seeing her will remind him of his time with Hera.
Looking at the map, the University didn’t appear too far from Skyfire Avenue, but it would be quite a distance on foot.
Tomorrow I report to school. Think, when was the last time I enrolled in any classes? Ten years or more now. I was in my teens, and I was a pretty well-known problem child!
A smirk spread unbidden across his face. His memories were precious, recalling his wild and carefree youth like it was yesterday. And tomorrow he’d enter in to university again, but as a different person. The student had become the teacher. But what sort of teacher would he be?
The depression that had had accompanied Qianlin’s request had dispersed, what with the happenings of the last few days. He was adjusting to the rigors of life, or perhaps, it was the beginning of a new chapter. It was the desire of every man to shed the veil of sadness.
He pressed a few digits in the to the communicator on his wrist, and soon a lethargic voice arose on the other end.
“Eyy, A-Jue, what’s happening! Did you find Hera?”
A crooked smile split Lan Jue’s face. “The greater the desire, the greater the disappointment.”
The voice on the other end seemed to awaken. “It sounds like someone cheated you.”
The muscles of Lan Jue’s face jerked. “And it sounds like you’re gloating.”
“I’m not, really!” Chu Cheng’s voice solemnly swore from the receiver.
Lan Jue smirked. “Fine. I’ll deal with my own business. Give me an address, I have something for you.”
“What’s that,” Chu Cheng asked curiously.
“Some Harlequin Silver. You know the kind of person I am.”
“You know you don’t have to repay me,” Chu Cheng responded in agitation.
“Unacceptable,” Lan Jue stated categorically. “If I take too long to repay a debt I wont be able to. Besides, I don’t want to cause you any trouble. Although the silver isn’t as significant as the refined technetium to you, you might be able to use it to trade for a batch.”
Chu Cheng’s voice rejoined. “A-Jue, you really need to get out. It’s no good being shut in all the time.”
Lan Jue acquiesced. “I know. I’m trying, I even found a job.”
“A job? You coming out of retirement, back to being the Mercenary King?” Chu Cheng’s excitement was apparent. “That’s excellent! We’ve got a few missions that need tending to, all S-Ranked. They’re yours if you want ‘em. Price is no object. I remember your rules, you only need to ask. Whatever gem you need you’ll get, I’ll have the whole family out looking.”
During his time as a mercenary, Lan Jue never accepted money. He preferred to be remunerated in the form of power gems. It was the take from those days that allowed him to corner the gem market in Skyfire Avenue.
Lan Jue chuckled. “I said I was looking for a job, not that I was going back to merc work. I’m going to be a teacher!”
ζ
“Te.. teacher…” Chu Cheng’s mouth dropped open, and the cigarette that had lazily burned in his mouth tumbled to the floor instantly burning the shag carpet.
“Mmhm, a teacher. An Etiquette teacher, actually. Come on, give me an address.”
As if in a trance Chu Cheng muttered the address, and even when Lan Jue’s communicator went silent, he still didn’t know how to react.
Teacher? He’d said teacher, right? He wants to be… a teacher? Why did he sound so relaxed?
After a few moments of blind confusion Chu Cheng gradually came back to his senses. A wry smile spread across his face by degrees.
It appears A-Jue was finally letting go of what had happened the last few years, he thought. At least he’s getting out and letting go of his pain. It doesn’t matter what he’s out doing, so long as he’s doing something. And with his abilities, he’s sure to make an excellent teacher.
But what did he say he wanted to teach? I suddenly can’t remember…
“Chuuuu Cheeeeeng!” A wild voice suddenly rang out, full of bile.
“ You DARE smoke in my house again?! AGH! MY CARPET! You abhorrent little punk, do you have any idea how rare this carpet is?! Your father just bought it at auction. Don’t go running you awful degenerate, time for a whooping!”
“My fault mom. Pretend I don’t exist!”
ζ
National Eastern University.
It was one of the top ten schools in the Eastern Alliance, situated right here on Skyfire, in the city itself. It was particularly known for it’s mecha program, and though it wasn’t a military institution it’s piloting curriculum was known through the Alliances. Not only that, it was first among the Alliances in alloy research and application.
The school itself was enormous, constituting a tenth of the Western part of the city. At it’s back was the Western mountain, which itself had been incorporated in to the university. It provided the mecha students with a place to train.
Rays of early-morning light splayed across the campus, setting the morning dew to twinkling and bringing with it a vividly fresh scent. A figure slowly approached from the distance.
He was tall, clad in a three-piece azure blue suit. He wore a white shirt, pink neck tie, and a pink handkerchief folded in his breast pocket. And he came rolling in on a two-wheeled bicycle.
The bike leisurely meandered towards the school, Lan Jue sitting straight atop it so as not to wrinkle his finely pressed suit.
The fine black bike had been procured for him by the The Wine Master. He had always been a fan of antiques. Apparently this bike the Wine Master had been riding was a relic from Former Era China. The brand name – Forever – could be made out on it’s crossbar. It was a good name, denoting it’s quality. The bike was veritably soundless as it rolled along.
A soothing, cool breeze caressed his face. Occasionally he would ring the bell, and the crisp ding ding ding would waft upon the wind. It was certainly a novel experience for Lan Jue.
Today, in order to appear more the professor, Lan Jue had chosen to wear a pair of black-rimmed spectacles. Naturally they were lens-less*, but they lent a certain air of culture and gentleness. His clean and kept face wore a genial, elegant smile. It was a scholarly look, contrary to what one might expect.
From far away he could make out the towering sign of the National Eastern University. The front gates of the campus were tall, and made of fine wrought metal. In fact, they were composed of an alloy, though it was difficult to determine which with the naked eye.
The National Eastern University. The letters were bold and brazen, written in a forceful hand that demanded attention. They caused Lan Jue to think back on that old geezer, reclining easily on his deck chair. He couldn’t of been the one to write this, could he?
And yet Lan Jue knew clearly that though the man looked older than God, he’d probably go another hundred years before kicking the bucket. He was the world’s greatest scientist! Was there anyone else who understood the workings of the human body better than he?
It wasn’t long before Lan Jue and his antique Forever bike arrived before the campus’ lofty gates.
He’d arrived just as the students were showing for morning lessons. The school’s gates were thrown wide to accommodate the occasional maglev vehicle. As the levitating cars drew near they would slow, rapidly shifting from speeding bullets to full stop. Before the gates they would be scanned, and only then were they permitted entrance.
Aside from the maglevs, pricey high-altitude verti-cars were also seem from time to time. Like their inexpensive cousins, they also had to stop and get scanned before they could enter. In fact, the air above the university was entirely devoid of verti-cars or other traffic. At least, not on the campus. Such were the rules, and any who dared break them ran the risk of being shot out of the sky.
ζ
A number of the maglevs arrived at the gate and went no further. Parking on campus cost a pretty penny, so most of students were sent to school by family. They would be dropped off at the gate and walk in from there.
Dumb-mutt Jin was such a student. His family’s maglev arrived at the gates and descended until he could jump out. He slipped his backpack over his head and walked towards the gate.
The backpack was something that survived the inevitable march of progress. Personal inter-dimensional pockets existed, but only for those students whose families were particularly well off.
Dumb-mutt Jin’s family was middle class at best. A maglev itself was an achievement.
He made his way through the gates, nodding his head to the rock and roll blasting through his headphones like he did any other day.
He wore a black school uniform that was fairly well kept, but the white shirt beneath was undone to the third button revealing his underwhelming pectorals. He wore a diamond earring in his left ear that lead the eye to his pink spiky hair. It made him look rather like a rooster. He certainly didn’t look the part of a model student.
Mecha Pilot. Junior. Problem child. Those were the words to describe Dumb-mutt Jin. His name was actually Jin Tou, but his emphatically miserable behavior earned him the moniker Dumb-mutt. He was like a cur, they said, biting anyone he came across. And with his current academic record, graduating was starting to look like a crazy pipe dream.
As he made to traverse the gates Dumb-mutt Jin looked up in time to see something that stopped him in his tracks.
A man in a pressed suit rode towards the school on an ancient two-wheeled bicycle. He was a few meters away from the school when he threw his right leg over the back of the bike, balancing on his left foot perched atop the pedal. He swept by like that, standing to one side as the bicycle rolled on. His casual entrance, fine suit and gaunt stature was quite the attention-grabber.
Dumb-mutt Jin had fostered an interest in novelty items, and his eyes grew wide at the sight. He immediately pinched thumb and forefinger together, placing them in his mouth to produce a shrill whistle.
The man soon pulled up the university’s gates and dismounted.
“Hey brother, not bad! Where’d you get the wheeler? Pretty sweet ride. All mechanical, right? Manpowered?” Dumb-mutt Jin appeared a fan of the past, and walked a circuit around the man.
The man offered a refined smile, and gave a reserved nod of his head. “It’s called a bicycle. All manpowered.”
“It’s got character! Lemme get a ride on it.” Dumb-mutt Jin moved closer still in zeal.
“I’m afraid not,” the suit-clad mad responded with a shake of his head.
“Pfft,” Dumb-mutt spat disdainfully. “Well that’s not fair, ya stingy bastard. Whatever.” As he spoke, he turned and entered the campus. He wasn’t a good student, true, but making trouble before the university gates was just plain stupid.
ζ
Lan Jue followed the chicken-head punk depart with his eyes, a laugh bubbling unbidden from his chest. Memories of his own time as a student came rushing back, and it appeared this university had it’s own problem kids. The exaggerated hairstyle reminded him of a young A-Cheng, who’d experimented with something similar. But, sadly, that ended when his mother came storming into the school with a pair of scissors. Snip, snip!
“Beep! Attention unregistered vehicle, you are prohibited from going further.” An emotionless digitized voice pulled Lan Jue from his reverie. Two men in uniform were already watching as he approached.
The two men were clearly campus security, and were clad in uniforms made to look like military fatigues. Both were quite tall, and quite burly.
“Unregistered vehicle, you are not permitted to enter the campus grounds. Please await processing, and produce your student identification for inspection.”
Lan Jue certainly wasn’t as old as Zhou Qianlin had tried to assert. Freshly shaved he looked quite young, no different than a post-graduate student.
Lan Jue smiled, and spoke to the uniformed guards politely. “Good morning, to the both of you. Please excuse me, but I haven’t got a student ID. This is actually my first day reporting to the university. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the rules.” As he spoke, he pulled out a dark blue envelope from the basket affixed to the back of the bicycle. He opened the document and produced the letter of appointment.
One of the guards took the red paper from Lan Jue’s grip, while at the same time whipping free some instrument from his waist. He drew the apparatus over the document, scanning it. Only afterward did he open it to read.
“Etiquette teacher? What’s an etiquette teacher?”
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