Chapter 1781: Chapter 1781

Chapter 1781: Chapter 2: Final Exam

There’s wind outside the window, and also tree branches.

Sunlight fell on his cheeks, and Zheng Qing watched the shadows of the branches swaying in the sunlight. It seemed as though even the sunlight was stirred into ripples by the breeze. Lying in the sunlight felt like lying in warm hot springs, with the gentle sunlight as the softly rippling spring water.

He opened his mouth and took a bite of the sunlight, soft and warm, as if it were marshmallow freshly taken from the oven, only lacking a bit of the sweet taste, and instead having a slightly bitter touch.

Zheng Qing knew that the bitterness was the residue of the magic potion remaining in his mouth.

Subconsciously, a description from Tsvetaeva’s poetry floated through his mind — veins filled not with blood, but with sunlight. Alone, confronting his own soul, he sensed the oddity of life — of course, the original poem was not quite , but its essence was similar.

Just like in the private hospital room he was currently in, alone, isolated, besides his own soul and the sunlight outside the window, there was nothing else to express his emotions.

Today marked the seventh day since Zheng Qing woke up from his coma.

Guests and therapists had come and gone from the ward, and the sun rose and set outside the window. The only constant was Zheng Qing lying in the bed, still unable to muster much magic power, appearing particularly weak.

This state made the boy a bit restless.

He sighed deeply, raised his head, and looked around at the familiar surroundings.

The ward wasn’t large, about twenty square meters, decorated primarily in white, simple and plain.

Delicate lamp trays were installed on the ceiling, with a few uneven white candles slowly burning inside, casting a pale blue flame — the light from these medicinal candles could ward off evil, and the smoke could calm the mind; not every ward qualified to use them.

To the left of the bed against the wall was a long table, covered in fruit baskets and bouquets brought by visitors; to the right by the door was a small coffee table with a gray leather sofa, and on the coffee table was a slender-necked vase with a bunch of fresh baby’s breath flowers inside.

Zheng Qing’s attention didn’t fall on those light red flowers, but rather on the calendar next to the vase, with a palm-sized paper marked with today’s date in bold numbers.

Lunar calendar, the fifth day of the fifth month (leap month).

Dragon Boat Festival.

Favored for getting a license, praying for blessings, conducting sacrificial rites.

Unfavorable for moving house, entering a residence, setting up a bed.

Only upon seeing the word ‘leap’ could he realize that this was his second Dragon Boat Festival this year. Last month’s Dragon Boat Festival and the subsequent Caring Day felt as if they happened last year, distant and blurry in his mind.

But none of this was the main point.

The main point was, today was the last day of the First University’s 08-09 academic year’s annual final exams, and Zheng Qing was stuck in the hospital ward, unable to attend.

According to the school’s initial plan, the final exams were scheduled for the seventeenth and eighteenth weeks of this term, from June 9 to June 19.

Due to the Black Prison War and the Black Tide invasion, the exams were postponed by a week, extending from June 20 to June 27, and the difficulty level of the exams was adjusted accordingly, with significant weight given to students’ performance in defending against the Black Tide and similar events, greatly increasing the emphasis on practical aspects.

For many students — for instance, Nicholas, who had stayed in his freshman year for three years and only became a Northern District Wizard this year — this was something fortunate.

But for other students who were usually honest, diligent in their studies, and who stayed obediently in their dormitories during the Black Tide, following the school’s arrangements, this policy was not very favorable.

Of course, whether unlucky or lucky, none of this had to do with Zheng Qing.

He was in the hospital ward, unable to participate in the practical exams, and all he could do was clasp his hands together and pray to all gods and buddhas in the sky, hoping the school would accept his appeal application.

A few days ago, with the help of his companions, he filled out an application form requesting his performance in the Dreamland and the Black Prison War to be converted into his practical exam grades. Since it involved his final records, the members of the Absolution Hunting Team were quite enthusiastic, but Zheng Qing remained reserved about it.

Especially considering the slender red sky pillar he’d toppled in the Black Prison, Zheng Qing was even more pessimistic — he didn’t believe a player who accidentally scored an own goal could receive a good evaluation, even worse, what if the school pursued him for the repair costs of the Black Prison Castle? And then there’s that shocking casualty report…

Thinking of this, Zheng Qing slapped himself on the face, angrily blaming himself for being bewitched by Xin Fat Man into filling out that application form.

If the school had previously overlooked him, but reevaluates his actions in the Black Prison because of that form, wouldn’t that be shooting himself in the foot — especially since he was already under probation, which meant he could hardly demand a review if the school ordered him to withdraw.

Seemingly aware of the warlock’s anxiety,

On one side of the hospital bed, within the gently waving sunlight, a smudge of deep blackness stretched out several slender tendrils, like fingers, patting the boy’s pillow in comfort.

Ever since returning to school, the shadow that had diverged in the Black Prison World due to the two suns had reverted to singularity, and its color became even darker and more profound. What hadn’t changed was the shadow’s activity, far surpassing that of ordinary wizards’ shadows, resembling a wisp of soul chained to Zheng Qing’s feet. Occasionally, Zheng Qing could clearly sense the thoughts and anxieties of the shadow.

To think he had fallen to the point where he needed comfort from his shadow.

The young scholarship student thought dejectedly, throwing a glance at the few slender black shadow fingers on his pillow, suddenly gaining some inexplicable confidence.

No matter how you looked at it, his shadow had dragged an enemy Big Wizard to die together in the Black Prison battlefield, which was a top-tier achievement. From any perspective, the school had no reason to expel such an excellent student.

As he pondered, those slender black shadow fingers rapidly gestured, like sign language, seemingly trying to convey something to Zheng Qing.

This wasn’t the first time. Zheng Qing helplessly waved his hand, emphasizing, “When she came, I wasn’t awake, and when I was awake, she wasn’t there. What’s the urgency?”

The shadow hoped Zheng Qing would find Su Shijun to once again cut it off from under Zheng Qing’s feet. But on one hand, timing was never right, and Zheng Qing had yet to meet Su Shijun face-to-face after waking up; on the other hand, before the school’s final decision was out, Zheng Qing didn’t want to readily hand over the shadow, so he just kept dragging it out.

Whether it was realizing the boy’s inconsistency, those slender shadow fingers twisted, transforming into a paper crane flying back and forth in the sunlight.

Meaning Zheng Qing should take the initiative to contact Su Shijun.

Zheng Qing blinked, yawned hugely, pulled up the thin blanket, and started to doze with his head covered, pretending not to see the shadow’s hints.