Xiao Xiao was right.

The main task of students is, of course, to learn.

But if someone is just studying at school, that might be too miserable. Like Zheng Qing, it’s only been two weeks since the school started, yet he feels like two months have gone by, with a mountain of heavy homework every day when he opens his eyes, and various bizarre monsters attacking him in his dreams when he closes them.

This seemingly endless experience makes him feel exhausted.

Classical mechanics tells us that an object will not change its trajectory unless an external force acts upon it. Life is the same. Before an external force appears, everyone’s life is monotonous.

Zheng Qing was unsure whether he was hoping for an external force to arrive or praying that life wouldn’t stir up any waves.

The only thing he could be sure of was that out of twenty-eight classes a week, his favorite was Old Yao’s Art of Body Transformation—not only because it was the only class just between him and Jiang Yu as a private lesson, but also because he occasionally needed to transform into a cat during this class, allowing him to stretch lazily, yawn, and doze in the spring sunshine.

"Transforming in class is to make you understand the subtle connection between transformation technique and body duplication, not to give you a chance to slack off," Old Yao sternly warned the black cat in the third class: "Learn from Student Jiang Yu, she has more classes than you, is more diligent, yet never slacks off in a single class."

The black cat tucked its paws, coiled its tail, drooped its ears, and listened attentively to the professor’s criticism.

Beside it, the little white cat stood tall, eyes forward, with the same focus as in other classes.

Except for these small displeasures, the Art of Body Transformation class had no other flaws. As a legendary wizard, Old Yao could make dry and intricate transformation formulas lively and interesting—for instance, he would break down the spell formula into more comprehensible fragments, first allowing a blackboard eraser to grow four legs, each of different lengths, the left front leg growing only bones, the right front leg sprouting blood vessels, the left hind leg developing muscles, and the right hind leg covered with fur.

The four oddly different legs supported a blackboard eraser, running around the small lecture table, chasing after a piece of chalk with legs, creating a scene both terrifying and comical.

In contrast, other classes weren’t so interesting.

Originally thought to be simple, courses like Symbol Science, Yin Fu Studies, Cloud Sutra Study, which were based on talisman basics, grew increasingly difficult as the teaching deepened, with many familiar rune rules being scattered by different systems from ancient, modern, Yin, and Yang script, leaving him often feeling like he couldn’t paint talismans anymore.

Like the sensation of repeatedly practicing a character and increasingly feeling unfamiliar with it.

Then there were courses like Near Ancient Techniques, Ritual Regulation, and Classical Ceremonies, requiring extensive tedious memorization, each time sitting in such classrooms, Zheng Qing felt like his eyelids were glued shut, unable to open.

The good news was, these courses were time-conversion types, where he needed to wear an invisibility talisman to class, allowing him to sleep openly without worrying about being discovered—as long as he didn’t snore while sleeping; the bad news was, he didn’t know any classmates in these courses, so couldn’t copy notes, let alone homework.

Several times, Zheng Qing unknowingly fell asleep in class, having to awkwardly go to the professors’ offices during breaks to copy notes.

The professors, though not harsh towards this nominal ’colleague,’ inevitably commented with words like ’be a role model,’ ’teach by example,’ ’lead by example,’ leaving the young teaching assistant feeling somewhat embarrassed.

Besides that, courses related to forbidden curses—Dimension Faction Introduction, Convergence Principle, Abusmo Conjecture—were also somewhat troubling.

In the literal sense of ’headache.’

Yet not quite the same as the headaches from his childhood.

Though he had only attended these classes twice, Zheng Qing keenly noticed that during them, he would experience a mild sensation of tinnitus, as if someone was loudly repeating the content taught by the teachers in the classroom within his ear canal.

Upon encountering this phenomenon, his first reaction in his mind was the little green snake living in his ear canal. Since last semester, it had become increasingly lively while also becoming increasingly lazy.

Zheng Qing vaguely guessed the reason for this change.

Liveliness meant the awakening of self-consciousness, but no self-consciousness aims for self-destruction upon birth. Coincidentally, the main purpose of the little green snake residing in Zheng Qing’s ear canal was to borrow the rule power accumulated during the growth of the forbidden curse seed, to obliterate its existence, to mark the perfect completion of the Sea Demon King’s true advancement.

Not wanting to die, yet having to die, its lazy attitude was inevitable.

Zheng Qing could tolerate its laziness, but couldn’t tolerate it messing around in his ear canal. So in recent days, he would meditate now and then, wanting to converse with the little green snake, but his consciousness always lingered on the periphery of the mind sea, unable to approach the budding Tree of Forbidden Curse.

"Behave, don’t force me to find someone to pull you out!"

The warlock repeatedly spoke aloud in his mind, sternly warning the guest residing there, though actually with little confidence. Since Christmas last year, he hadn’t seen the gentleman for quite a while, and San You Bookstore remained empty; while the high-level wizards he knew at school, like Old Yao or Vice Principal Ruoyu, were merely at legendary rank, asking them to help remove a power left by an ancient one seemed too much to ask.

Moreover, Old Yao originally was a great demon, while Vice Principal Ruoyu had a somewhat gloomy temperament, making Zheng Qing somewhat apprehensive when meeting them, let alone asking them to delve into his consciousness and meddle with his soul.

Life felt so difficult, already leaving one tired.

The devils of the Seven Sins buzzed like flies, hovering unwillingly to leave by his ears.

Since encountering a runaway ghoul attack at the base of Dormitory Hill on Monday—Zheng Qing now firmly believed the ghoul was controlled by devils—within a few short days, he had encountered several mishaps.

Including a crazed squirrel that somehow snuck into the classroom biting people, a sudden explosion of a cauldron and shattering test tubes in Magic Potion Class, several hotheaded youths in blue gowns blocking the classroom door, initiating duels in the name of love with Zheng Qing, numerous dance party invitations, and free health check vouchers offered by some unknown small club.

"Do I look stupid to you?"

Zheng Qing waved the crumpled health check voucher in dormitory 403, angrily roaring: "Which wizard would foolishly go for such a health check!"