Reality Programming Association

Chapter 153 -64: The Mastermind

Amidst the rain, Yu Xian’s heartbeat skipped a beat.

“Su Mingyuan?”

Shi Zuozhou, who was keeping watch nearby, also froze. The name was all too familiar to them—so familiar it bordered on absurd.

Just two weeks ago, they had been running around organizing the old man’s book-sharing session. They had sat in the grand auditorium, listening to him preach about “spiritual decluttering” and “applying Subtraction to life.”

One was a spiritual guru penning bestselling self-help books; the other was an academic titan in theoretical physics.

To Yu Xian, these two men were parallel lines destined never to intersect. How could Professor Ning bring up that name now, at this life-and-death juncture?

“Professor Ning, are you talking about… the Su Mingyuan who wrote *Life of Subtraction*?”

Abandoning his lookout post, Shi Zuozhou snapped his head around. His eyes widened into saucers as he stared in pure disbelief. “Isn’t he a writer? How did he get mixed up in something like this?”

Through the security grating, Professor Ning nodded solemnly. A complex expression crossed his face—a blend of anger and bewilderment. “Yes… I also thought he was just a writer.”

The old man sighed, his gaze fixed on the hazy sheet of rain. “About a month ago, a former student of mine—who now works at the Academy of Social Sciences—called me. He mentioned that Su Mingyuan would be coming to JCU for an event and wanted to drop by to pay me a visit.”

Professor Ning offered a bitter smile. “I hadn’t read any of those bestselling books, but I had heard of his reputation. Even though we were from completely different fields and I had no idea what we could possibly discuss, I figured he was a guest traveling from afar, so I agreed.”

“And then?” Shi Zuozhou asked anxiously.

“Half a month ago—right around the time you hosted that book-sharing session,” Professor Ning recalled. “He had invited me to attend, but I had a class to teach and couldn’t make it. That evening, he came to my office.”

Yu Xian recalled that afternoon. He *had* seen Su Mingyuan getting into a black commercial van by the side entrance of the grand auditorium. So the author hadn’t left campus right away, but had headed straight to the School of Physics?

“At first, we hit it off quite well. Even though he’s a man of letters, he was surprisingly well-versed in cutting-edge physics—quantum mechanics, relativity, you name it. His insights were incredibly unique.”

Professor Ning frowned, his deep wrinkles bunching together in the backlit shadows. “But as we kept talking, the conversation took a strange turn. He suddenly gave me a smiling look and asked, ‘Professor Ning, you’re at that age now. Have you ever considered retiring from frontline research?’”

“Retiring?” Shi Zuozhou blurted out.

“Yes, retiring,” Professor Ning said, tightening his grip on the window frame. “I was quite taken aback. While it’s true I’m nearing seventy and it is about time for me to step down, this is still my personal career trajectory. What business is it of an outsider? Even if I were to retire, I’d follow the university’s arrangements. Besides, I have several unfinished national-level key projects on my plate. I can’t just drop everything and leave.”

Professor Ning’s pace quickened. “I politely dismissed the notion. I told him that scientific research has no finish line, and as long as I can still move, I will keep going.”

He paused, a trace of suppressed anger bleeding into his voice. “Instead of taking the hint, he kept up that smiling facade of his—but his words turned nasty.”

“What did he say?” Yu Xian asked.

“He said…” Professor Ning slowly mimicked Su Mingyuan’s tone from that night. “‘Professor Ning, take my advice. Step down early, enjoy your golden years, and play with your grandchildren. Wouldn’t that be nice? I am offering this counsel for your own good. If you stubbornly persist with these research projects, I’m afraid… you will summon Torrential Calamity Water.’”

“He threatened you?” Shi Zuozhou demanded angrily. Yu Xian’s heart gave a jolt.

How could the seemingly kind and benevolent Mr. Su utter such a naked threat?

“I was absolutely furious. I immediately showed him the door,” Professor Ning said, shaking his head. “I thought he was just some crackpot charlatan coming to spout nonsense and dictate how I live my life.”

The old man’s voice dropped, tainted by an unmistakable edge of fear. “But I never expected… the very next day, news broke of Dean Gao’s suicide.”

Yu Xian and Shi Zuozhou exchanged a look, both seeing the naked horror in the other’s eyes.

Professor Gao’s obituary had been published on Thursday, November 8th, but his suicide must have occurred on Tuesday, November 6th—the day before the event.

And sandwiched right between these two days, Su Mingyuan had paid his visit to Professor Ning.

“I don’t know if he had approached Dean Gao as well.” Professor Ning’s arm trembled slightly against the window frame. “But the moment I heard about Dean Gao’s death, the first thing that flashed through my mind was Su Mingyuan’s face—and his warning about summoning ‘Torrential Calamity Water.’”

“Did you confront him about it?” Yu Xian asked.

“I wanted to meet with Su Mingyuan again right then, but I was too late. He had already left JCU. Later, the student who had initially set up the meeting relayed a message. He said Su Mingyuan had left some parting words for me.”

“What did he say?” Shi Zuozhou asked urgently.

“‘I have said my piece. You are on your own.’”

Yu Xian stared blankly at Shi Zuozhou. The exact same phrase surfaced in both their minds: “Subtraction.”

Was this his so-called “Subtraction”?

To subtract science? To subtract exploration? To subtract humanity’s thirst for knowledge?