30: Chapter 30: This PhD student's studies feel like being in prison.

Jiang Feng looked at him.

The student was clutching his withdrawal form so tightly that the edges were damp with sweat.

The discussions around them grew louder.

"My god, a PhD withdrawal? Is that for real?"

"I know this guy, that's Liu Wei from the physics department, a super genius!"

"Even a genius can't take it anymore? Just how tortured has he been?"

Jiang Feng ignored the noise around him; the system panel had already appeared in his field of vision.

【Name: Liu Wei】

【Bone Structure: Parietal bone raised, wisdom line deep and long, Wenqu star crowning.】

【Talent Rating: Academic Research (S-rank)】

【Current Status: Mental suppression (severe), inspiration exhausted (pseudo), luck currently being stripped...】

After reading the system panel, Jiang Feng returned his gaze to Liu Wei's sallow face.

"Sit." Jiang Feng pointed to the ground at his feet.

Liu Wei was stunned for a moment.

He glanced at the small stool Jiang Feng was sitting on, then at the cold marble floor, and didn't move.

"I'll sit here, you sit opposite me," Jiang Feng added.

Liu Wei's lips twitched, but in the end, he didn't say anything and obediently sat on the floor opposite Jiang Feng, legs curled up, clutching the withdrawal form to his chest. This posture made him look even more small and helpless.

"Hold out your hand," Jiang Feng said.

Liu Wei hesitated before extending his right hand.

It was the hand of a scholar—long fingers, but with dirt under the nails and a thin layer of calluses on the web of his thumb, not from holding a pen, but rather from doing manual labor.

Jiang Feng didn't touch his hand; instead, he leaned forward and pressed his withered fingers directly onto the back of Liu Wei's head, right on the Jade Pillow bone mentioned in the physiognomy.

"Your advisor, is he balding?" Jiang Feng asked.

Liu Wei jerked his head up, his eyes behind his glasses full of shock.

"His nasolabial folds are very deep, and the corners of his mouth turn downward when he smiles. There is also a black mole on his left cheek, near the nostril," Jiang Feng continued, his fingers moving slowly along Liu Wei's skull.

"How... how do you know?" Liu Wei's voice trembled.

These features were too specific!

His advisor, Wang Jianguo, was exactly like that!

"Because your luck was borrowed by him," Jiang Feng withdrew his hand and tucked it back into his pocket.

"In the art of physiognomy, you have the posture of a pine or cypress, born to be a pillar. He, however, has the appearance of a vine, capable only of climbing and attaching itself to others."

"Vines strangle the pine, stealing its nutrients, and the pine withers. In these three years, have all your results become his fertilizer?"

Liu Wei's breathing quickened.

He recalled those countless all-nighters—running experiments, processing data, writing papers.

Every time he brought his results to his advisor, Wang Jianguo would berate him, claiming his work was worthless.

Then, a few days later, his research ideas and data would appear in a new article published by his advisor as the corresponding author.

And his own name would be listed third or fourth at best, or not at all.

"That recent paper of yours on the quantum tunneling effect—it's actually finished, isn't it?" Jiang Feng looked at him.

Liu Wei's pupils shrank violently.

Only he knew about this!

That paper was the highest-level result of his three years, enough to be submitted to a top-tier international physics journal.

But he didn't dare; he was afraid it would be stolen by his advisor again.

So he hid the paper on an encrypted hard drive and lied to his advisor, claiming the experiment had hit a bottleneck and there had been no progress.

"He... he said my approach was wrong and told me to change directions..." Liu Wei's voice was choked with tears.

"He didn't ask you to change directions; he wanted you to hand him the ripe fruit yourself," Jiang Feng pulled at the corner of his mouth. "You're not studying for a PhD; you're serving a prison sentence, and doing unpaid labor for someone else at that."

These few words broke Liu Wei completely.

The man who had been silent in the lab and submissive before his advisor suddenly buried his head in his arms and let out a sob that had been suppressed for years.

He had wanted to quit, had even thought about jumping off the roof of the library.

He thought it was his own incompetence, that he had failed everyone's expectations.

It turned out, it wasn't his problem after all.

"Don't quit," Jiang Feng's voice sounded.

He reached out and pulled the withdrawal form from Liu Wei's arms.

Liu Wei raised his tear-blurred face, looking at him in confusion.

Jiang Feng didn't explain; he took the paper that carried all of Liu Wei's despair, folded it methodically, then folded it again, shaping it into a paper airplane.

Then, he flicked his finger.

The paper airplane wobbled through the air and landed on the lawn in the distance.

"Your Travel Star is moving," Jiang Feng looked at Liu Wei.

"Don't hide that paper anymore. Submit it tonight to *Applied Physics Letters* in Germany."

"You will have a response within three days."

"Your academic fortune lies in the north, not here. Leave this blood-sucking advisor, and you will soar."

Liu Wei listened blankly.

Three days?

The peer review cycle for a top international journal takes at least several months.

Germany?

He had never thought about submitting his article overseas.

He didn't say anything.

He just sat on the ground, buried his face in his knees, and wailed.

In his cries, there was the suppression of these three years, the unwillingness, the grievances, but more than that, a sense of release.

【Ding! Effective fortune-telling count: 1/3】

In his mind, the system notification sounded.

Jiang Feng pulled at his collar, shrinking his face further inside.

It was really cold.

The surrounding students were silent.

They looked at the PhD student crying like a child, and then at the young man, indifferent and huddled in his down jacket, feeling a complex mix of emotions.

Was this Jiang the Half-Immortal?

Not advising them to break up, not exposing secrets—this time he was actually giving someone hope?

After crying for about ten minutes, Liu Wei stood up.

He didn't look at Jiang Feng again, nor did he look at the surrounding crowd; he wiped his face hard with his sleeve, his eyes red, and turned to leave.

His steps were no longer heavy; instead, they carried a sense of determination.

He was going to take a gamble.

Watching Liu Wei's back disappear around the corner of the teaching building, the crowd became restless again.

"Master! Master! Tell my fortune! Can I pass the entrance exam?"

"Master! I'm going to fail Advanced Math this semester, what should I do!"

A group of students swarmed forward.

Jiang Feng just buried his head deeper.

Just then, a loud voice came from the side.

"Young man."

Jiang Feng raised his eyelids.

An old man wearing a grey tracksuit and a pair of ordinary running shoes was standing beside him.

The old man was about sixty or seventy, with gray hair, but he was in high spirits.

He had been exercising nearby and had watched the whole process from beginning to end.

"Encouraging someone to betray their master, that's not kind, is it?" The old man stood with his hands behind his back, looking Jiang Feng up and down.

The surrounding students saw the old man and quieted down; a few even whispered, "Hello, Principal."

Jiang Feng's gaze landed on the old man's face, then shifted to his feet.

"I call it helping someone turn from darkness to light," Jiang Feng yawned and replied lazily.

"Also, old man."

"Your shoelace is untied. Be careful, don't get a concussion at your age."