Chapter 131: Do you understand now? This is what it truly means to insult someone.

Qin Tian never expected to encounter such a “chuunibyou” old man. It was his own curiosity that got him into trouble. Fortunately, he was quick on his feet; otherwise, being caught by that old man for a long chat would have been the end of him.

When Qin Tian arrived at school, he suddenly slapped his forehead, realizing he had forgotten to buy breakfast!

Curiosity really did cause trouble!

Checking the time, he saw there were only ten minutes left before class began. If he wanted to buy buns from that shop, it was clearly too late.

Even grabbing some biscuits from the nearby convenience store wouldn't be feasible in time.

Qin Tian thought about it—he couldn’t be late for class, but he also couldn’t go hungry for the entire morning.

Moreover, the morning session was taught by the teacher nicknamed “Robot” Ji Qiren, and everyone at school knew his classes had no breaks.

“Forget it, being late is fine. I’ve got connections!” Qin Tian decided to play the bad student for once.

So, he leisurely went to the bun shop, bought some buns, and then leisurely strolled back.

Instead of heading to the classroom, Qin Tian went to Director Jia Ren’s office.

“Director Jia, are you exercising?” Qin Tian knocked on the door.

“C-come in...” Jia Ren stammered and hurriedly closed his computer screen.

“Director Jia, could you take me to the classroom?” Qin Tian asked.

“Why take you to the classroom?” Jia Ren glanced nervously at his computer before looking back at Qin Tian.

“I was late because I bought breakfast. Help me cover for it,” Qin Tian shrugged.

“Alright, let’s go.” Jia Ren quickly stood up.

“Is there something on your computer screen?” Qin Tian frowned, sensing something suspicious.

“Nothing, no, let’s go,” Jia Ren pushed Qin Tian out.

“Director Jia, are you watching something inappropriate?” Qin Tian blinked, teasing.

“Am I that kind of person?” Jia Ren’s eyes widened in indignation as he replied earnestly.

“Oh.” Qin Tian responded lightly but, seizing a moment when Jia Ren wasn’t looking, swiftly slipped back inside and opened the computer desktop.

“No!” Jia Ren panicked.

Qin Tian froze for a moment, then his expression turned odd.

On the computer was a graphic design program open to a cute background with four colorful characters in the center: “I love Misha”!

Jia Ren hurried over and unplugged the computer.

“Director Jia, what’s this?” Qin Tian smiled.

But he understood—it was probably for next week’s final concert of Misha’s return to the country.

“It’s for Misha’s concert next week,” Jia Ren said, blushing.

“Everyone has a star crush; no need to feel embarrassed,” Qin Tian chuckled and patted Jia Ren on the shoulder.

Jia Ren lowered his head, still red-faced, saying nothing.

Afterward, Jia Ren took Qin Tian to the classroom, told Ji Qiren he was keeping Qin Tian behind for some work, and thus helped him avoid trouble.

Before leaving, Jia Ren gave Ji Qiren a meaningful look and coughed, whispering, “One of us.”

Ji Qiren glanced at Qin Tian, then at Jia Ren, instantly understanding.

“Student, please enter,” Ji Qiren smiled.

“Teacher, I might need to use the restroom later. Do we have a break?” Qin Tian asked.

“There’s still twenty minutes before the break!” Ji Qiren replied quickly.

“Okay, got it,” Qin Tian nodded with satisfaction.

Qin Tian was quite smug; his little show of “borrowing power” probably helped his classmates as well.

“Why are you so late?” Shen Xiaoqing rubbed her stomach, displeased.

“Eat.” Qin Tian didn’t explain and handed her a bun.

Shen Xiaoqing, not minding that class was still ongoing, lowered her head and started eating.

Who hasn’t eaten in class before?

Jiang Yingying hesitated but, starving, also began eating silently.

Qin Tian was bolder—he chewed heartily, finishing with a satisfied burp.

They sat in the front row, but it didn’t disturb others.

As everyone knew, university seating was free, and most students sat from the back forward, not the front backward.

There were seven rows of empty seats between them and the next occupied row behind—there was no way they disturbed anyone!

After eating, Qin Tian turned on his voice recorder and then laid his head on the desk, fast asleep.

He was there as a companion, not really to attend university. Grades didn’t matter to him!

Besides, the exam questions were easy, so listening or not was inconsequential.

Qin Tian happily drifted into dreams, where he seemed to hear someone singing for him, repeatedly playing the song “I Don’t Care.”

He found it strange that it was a DJ remix, but it was energetic enough to make his leg start tapping.

After a while, he realized something was off, suddenly lifting his head to find earphones stuffed in his ears.

Following the wire, he saw the other earphone in Shen Xiaoqing’s ears—she was also asleep, sharing the music with him.

Qin Tian was speechless; he nearly started dancing in his dream because of her.

The morning classes passed quickly. With no afternoon lessons, Qin Tian took the two girls to eat casually before sending them home.

He checked on Tang Bo, brought him some food, and noticed Tang Bo’s spirits had improved significantly, seemingly on the mend from his grief.

After taking care of Tang Bo, Qin Tian drove to the Central Tower for an academic forum that afternoon.

There was a medical sub-forum, and Sun Simin had invited him to show support—Qin Tian hadn’t forgotten.

After parking, Qin Tian entered the building and found the second floor quite crowded.

However, when Qin Tian tried to enter the venue, someone stopped him—he didn’t have credentials!

His name wasn’t on the invited list either.

Resigned, Qin Tian waited by the door for Sun Simin to arrive.

“Now even just anyone can attend these forums. No wonder traditional Chinese medicine is declining,” a disdainful voice spoke beside him.

Qin Tian looked over and saw a doctor in a white coat, unmistakably a Western medical practitioner from the strong scent of disinfectant.

“So you don’t study the ancestors’ methods, but learn others’, then turn around and say the ancestors’ methods are obsolete?” Qin Tian retorted.

“If you think it’s obsolete, why don’t you revive it?”

“Think about how your ancestors treated illnesses generations ago.”

“It’s not that traditional Chinese medicine is declining; it’s that no one wants to inherit its spirit!”

Qin Tian didn’t hold back, firing back immediately.

“Are you insulting me?” the young Western doctor frowned and demanded.

Qin Tian was taken aback—where had he insulted him?

“Which part of what I said insulted you?” Qin Tian asked.

“You said ‘your ancestors, nineteen generations ago!’” the young doctor said.

“I was just giving an example. Did you find any profanity in that?” Qin Tian asked.

“You’re insulting me!” the young doctor insisted.

“Do you even know what ‘insult’ means?” Qin Tian smiled.

“Let me show you an example.”

“There are so many weapons in China, but you don’t learn them—you only learn the sword.”

“You don’t learn the upper sword but the lower sword.”

“There are many techniques for the lower sword, but you study the drunken sword.”

“You don’t learn the iron sword but go for the silver sword.”

“Finally, you master the ultimate martial art: the Drunken Silver Sword!”

“In the end, you reach the realm of the sword and human as one—commonly called the Sword Man!”

“Understand now? That’s what real insult looks like,” Qin Tian said calmly.