Chapter 1891 — The Last Disciple

You Panhu was unconvinced. He had no intention of losing this chance to make the You family's old master look favorably upon him, so he shot Yellow-Hair a covert glance.

"Teacher Bai, don't you think the class monitor ought to be elected?" Yellow-Hair suggested. "None of us know one another yet. If you just appoint someone at random, we won't even know who they are. Why not have everyone give a campaign speech, and then we vote?"

"Young man, did you not hear what I said just now? In the pharmacy major, I am the head. If you wish to study here, you will do as I say—otherwise I can arrange a transfer for you, to anywhere you like, no trouble at all!" Bai's face darkened; the smiling expression of a moment before vanished, and his voice turned cold.

Everyone present felt a chill at that. So this genial-looking old man was a tiger wearing a smile—capable of turning on you in an instant! Each of them quietly wiped away a bead of sweat, thanking their lucky stars they had not done anything out of line before; otherwise they would be the ones getting an earful now.

Yellow-Hair shrank back, plainly not daring to argue with Bai, while You Panhu looked rather crestfallen. It seemed his dream had been shattered.

Wei Zhao was taken aback. He had meant to decline the post outright, but hearing Bai say his piece, he had no choice but to abandon the idea. Wei Zhao had once saved the man's life, true, but at this moment Bai was his instructor—there was no way he could afford to cross him.

"Since no one objects, I'll go on to explain the arrangements for the new semester!" Bai nodded slowly, well pleased with everyone's response. "Our major is small, so we don't have many rules. There is only one rule: what I say is the rule. What I haven't spoken of, you may do. What I have spoken of—if you do it again, then I'm sorry, but you can expect to fail the term."

Only Bai could threaten his students so openly—he was one of a kind.

"After the term begins there will be military training and a freshman gala. Military training runs from the eleventh of October to the twentieth, ten days in all, and the results will count toward your credits—six points in total," Bai said. "The training is arranged by the university as a whole; I won't go into the rules and regulations, someone will explain them to you when the time comes! After the training comes the freshman gala. By convention, every major in every department must put on one performance, with no limit on how many more. But we are the smallest major in the biology department, and the smallest in the entire university, so we can only manage one. Still, small as our major is, I don't want you shaming me. After the training, show me what you're made of. Put on a good performance, win some recognition, and every one of you gets five credits. If it's bad—heh heh..."

Wei Zhao was at a loss for words. This style of teaching was something he had never heard of before—wasn't this instructor a bit too overbearing? Threatening students with failed courses and credits at every turn, when for university students those two things were precisely what mattered most!

Fail a course and you sit a makeup exam; fail the makeup and you retake the whole thing; and fall short on credits and you cannot graduate at all! That left everyone thoroughly despondent—but who had made Bai the one in charge here?

Wei Zhao was no longer surprised by Bai's ways. If a niche major like this existed, and Bai's teaching methods were so peculiar, then the university authorities must surely have given their tacit approval; so even if the matter were reported to the president, the result would likely be the same.

"All right, I've said my piece. Go off and enjoy yourselves. Tomorrow the other majors all have a class on university rules and regulations—but our major won't be attending. Rules aren't meant to be memorized; they're meant to be seen in what you do. One copy each, included with your textbooks—go back and read them carefully. Don't let me catch you in the act, or don't blame me for showing no mercy!" With that, Bai turned to Wei Zhao. "Monitor Wei Zhao, come with me to the office. Everyone else, dismissed!"

Every face in the class wore a bitter smile. Each of them had applied for this major because, more or less, their families worked in the pharmaceutical trade, and an elder at home had heard of Bai's fearsome reputation—which was why they had been sent to apply here.

Their original thinking had been that the smaller the major, the easier to coast through—but it had turned out to be nothing of the sort! Still, now that they were here, there was nothing for it but to comply. If Bai really did transfer them to another department, none of them could bear the shame.

Wei Zhao shrugged and glanced at Wang Xinyan, wondering how he might shift this class monitor post onto her shoulders. For one thing, she seemed to excel in both character and learning; for another, she was the only girl in the class, so everyone ought to give her some deference when she spoke.

Of course, if Wang Xinyan could not command the class's respect, then Wei Zhao would recommend Bai Weituo—Bai's own grandson, after all, and surely the most suitable candidate.

At that thought, Wei Zhao rose and followed Bai out of the classroom.

You Panhu still harbored designs on the monitor's post, but recalling Wei Zhao's feats, he had no choice but to let it go.

Once outside the classroom, Bai dropped his earlier expression entirely and addressed Wei Zhao with a chuckle: "Ha ha, young man, I said I would teach you the way of medicine and take you as my disciple, and you refused. And now? You've become my student after all, haven't you?"

"I'm mortified—I had no idea you were an instructor here." Wei Zhao smiled wryly. "Well, it seems your wish has been granted after all."

"That it has. But my original notion was to take you on as my last disciple, to pass on to you a few things—special techniques of medicine, the sort you cannot learn within the university walls..." Bai said.

"Oh? And what would those be?" Wei Zhao's heart stirred slightly. To be honest, when he had first heard Bai say such things outside the examination hall, he had paid them little mind. Teach him medicine? The man could not even cure the ailments of his own body—how could he presume to teach anyone?

But ever since he had seen the way You Panhu behaved toward Bai, his thinking had shifted somewhat. Who was You Panhu? None other than the second young master of the hidden You family. The hidden You family excelled in the arts of medicine and alchemy; in medical attainments, it was likely You Panhu stood no lower than Wei Zhao and his own grandfather. Yet You Panhu was utterly respectful and deferential toward Bai—that in itself said a great deal.

"Heh heh, a last disciple can only be one—otherwise he could hardly be called the last disciple. I have already taken on a rather promising seedling." Bai glanced at Wei Zhao, smiling. "Well? Regret it now?"

"Not really," Wei Zhao said mildly. How could he not know the old man was talking nonsense? A last disciple, only one? Bai Weituo and Bai Weikai made two already. Plainly the old fellow was just whetting his appetite.

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