Chapter 458 - 472: I Am the Literature

An Ning left her dorm and found a place to make a call.

On the other end of the line was Yin San, the person investigating things for her. He grunted in acknowledgment a couple of times before the call ended.

After hanging up, An Ning’s fingers began to move involuntarily, as if performing a divination.

But perhaps because one cannot divine their own fate, she came up with nothing.

Still, Tao Quan’s constant pestering truly unsettled her. The man’s thoughts ran too deep; she couldn’t see through him.

In other words, not even her spiritual power could probe Tao Quan’s true emotional state.

An Ning pushed her wheelchair off campus. When she returned, she had traded the wheelchair for a crutch.

Leaning on her crutch, An Ning mentally calculated the time that had passed since her car accident. ’I should be able to get this cast off in about a month.’

"An Ning?"

A voice called out from behind her. An Ning turned to greet the boy running toward her.

"Class monitor, what’s up?"

The boy was the monitor of her math class. They had spoken a few times.

Her class monitor approached with an armful of books and gave her an apologetic smile. "Why aren’t you in your wheelchair?"

"Need a hand?"

"No, I’m fine. Thanks."

An Ning declined, and the class monitor didn’t insist.

"Oh, right. Teacher Hu from the math department said that if I saw you, I should tell you to go to his office."

"Okay, I got it. I’ll head over now."

The class monitor stepped aside to let her pass, then called out after her, "Teacher Hu said there’s no rush!"

"Understood. I have time right now anyway."

An Ning, leaning on a single crutch, moved surprisingly fast. The class monitor, who had been jogging to keep up, gradually slowed to a stop. He looked down at his own two perfectly fine legs, then back at An Ning.

’She’s a genius, fine, but how is she so quick on her feet, too?’

The monitor stewed over this for less than ten seconds before glancing at his watch and turning pale.

"I’m going to be late!"

He took off at a run, sprinting toward the classroom. He wasn’t An Ning; he didn’t have the freedom to skip class.

Meanwhile, An Ning limped her way to the mathematics department office.

Just as she got to the top of the stairs, she ran into one of her math professors. The teacher’s mouth formed an "O" of surprise. The moment he saw An Ning, his first instinct was to glance down at his lecture notes.

"Did I teach the last lesson wrong?"

"No, Professor. I’m here to see Teacher Hu."

"Ohhh—third office on the left."

Hearing that wasn’t the case, the young professor immediately stepped aside and eagerly pointed the way for An Ning.

An Ning thanked him and walked past, clearly overhearing him mutter, "Burning that incense really did work."

As she walked on, An Ning’s brow furrowed slightly.

’Burning incense? Who was he burning it for?’

An Ning didn’t get a chance to ask. She reached the third office on the left and knocked.

"Come in."

An Ning pushed the door open. Teacher Hu happened to be in his office.

"An Ning, you’re here! Come, have a seat. Where’s your wheelchair?"

"I’m much better now, so I don’t really need it. It was a bit inconvenient anyway. This is fine."

An Ning sat in the chair opposite the professor and waited for him to speak.

"My goodness, you’re calmer than I am."

Teacher Hu, standing behind his desk, found a photocopied notebook and placed it in front of An Ning.

"Remember this?"

An Ning glanced at it and nodded.

"I do. They’re the notes I wrote for the class."

"Yes, that’s the one. This is exactly why I called you here."

"Let me tell you, we have a real shortage of good teaching materials right now. A lot of them were written by us old-timers as we went along, teaching and compiling at the same time. Your notes align perfectly with our curriculum, but they approach the subject from a completely different angle, with no overlap with the existing textbook. So, I wanted to ask you: would you be interested in publishing these notes and turning them into a real textbook?"

An Ning didn’t particularly care whether her notes became a textbook or not, but she could sense that Teacher Hu cared a great deal.

"Professor, do you want it to become a textbook?"

"Yes."

Teacher Hu was direct. "We lack materials like this. If we could distribute it widely, many schools could use it to educate more students, to give more students the chance to learn."

"Then let’s publish it."

An Ning’s reply was just as direct, bringing a satisfied smile to Teacher Hu’s face as he sat down.

"An Ning, thank you. You have no idea how many people you’ve just helped without even realizing it."

An Ning truly didn’t know, but she took his words to heart. She now had a new understanding of what it meant to publish a book.

’Writing a book means spreading knowledge, and spreading knowledge means benefiting humanity.’

"An Ning, there’s a second reason I called you here. What reference materials did you consult for this book? We need to list them in the back. It’s a matter of showing respect for those who shared their knowledge."

Reference materials?

An Ning was in a bit of a bind.

’What am I supposed to do when the sources I referenced don’t exist in this world?’

’I can’t just make up a bibliography. People can check those things, after all.’

Teacher Hu noticed her hesitation and asked, "What’s wrong, can’t you remember them? It’s all right. You can go back and look for them later. Just make a list for me."

"That’s not it."

An Ning shook her head and said the most pretentious thing she could think of.

"Professor, my book doesn’t need to reference any other works. I am the reference."

After she said it, a blush crept up An Ning’s face, but she forced it down. ’I really have to commit to this act.’

As expected, Teacher Hu was completely blown away, but he accepted it even faster than An Ning had.

"Hahaha! Excellent! Excellent!"

"The younger generation is truly formidable! I knew it! The material in here looked completely new to me. Wonderful, just wonderful! It’s even better that you didn’t need references."

After discussing the details of the publication, An Ning left Teacher Hu’s office.

As she left, An Ning felt a little embarrassed, as if she were stealing someone else’s achievement. She kept her head down as she headed toward the cafeteria.

"Jiang Xia."

An Ning looked up. She had heard someone call Jiang Xia’s name.

Lifting her head, she saw Jiang Xia about twenty meters ahead, blocked by a girl.

The girl had long, black hair tied in a high ponytail, a sunny smile, and a well-proportioned figure. She was holding a colorful piece of paper out to Jiang Xia.

"Take it."

Jiang Xia didn’t take it. He simply took two steps back, walked around the girl, and said, "I don’t have time."

The girl with the high ponytail didn’t give up and hurried after him, continuing to plead, "How about this? You don’t even have to rehearse. Just stand in the middle. How about that?"

"No."

Jiang Xia refused again. The girl looked like she was at her limit. She stomped her foot and chased after him once more.

"Then could you just perform something on your own? Anything you want! How about that?"

"No."

Still no. Behind Jiang Xia’s back, the high-ponytail girl raised her fist and punched the air a few times, as if venting her frustration by beating him up.

An Ning, watching from behind, found the scene amusing. She walked up to the girl and asked, "Can I take a look?"

The high-ponytail girl, clutching the flyer, froze. Her gaze landed on An Ning’s fingers, and her pupils instantly dilated. Her lips trembled with excitement.

"An-An-An-An—"

"Hello, I’m An Ning."