Bio-engineered Dinosaur in the immortal world

Elder Fan Ming's eyes remained glued to the parchment, his fingers tracing the lines of ink as if the words themselves carried hidden secrets. His brow furrowed so deeply it seemed carved into his face.

His lips moved as he murmured, barely audible, lost in thought.

"No… no, this ratio shouldn't work. But if I compare it to the energy distribution model of high-tier beasts, it actually… stabilizes? No, wait… if this is interacting with that component, then what about the secondary absorption pathway? If Zou Fang adjusted this, that means—"

His voice trailed off, his mind sinking deeper into the labyrinth of theory and formulas.

The entire hall fell silent.

Everyone watched.

Disciples who had once been laughing at Zou Fang now exchanged nervous glances.

Minutes passed.

No one dared to interrupt.

Elder Fan Ming continued murmuring, flipping the parchment over, scratching at the edges, his fingers tightening around it as if he might crush it in frustration.

"But that would mean… no, that shouldn't be possible. Unless… the spiritual conductivity is actually higher than I thought? If that's the case, then why haven't we seen this result before? Has no one tested it properly? Have I been ignoring a fundamental error in my assumptions all along?"

Zou Fang tapped his foot.

Then tapped it again.

Then crossed his arms.

Then uncrossed them.

"Tch… hey, old man, are you gonna stand there mumbling to yourself all day or—"

Elder Fan Ming's head snapped up.

His eyes gleamed with something unreadable—half shock, half realization.

And then—

He hid it.

In an instant, the glimmer in his eyes vanished. His face twisted into a neutral, slightly disappointed expression.

He straightened his robes, cleared his throat, and scoffed.

"A little impressive," he muttered, rolling up the parchment with casual ease, as if he hadn't just spent several minutes losing himself in it.

Zou Fang blinked.

"A little?" he repeated, eyebrows twitching.

The disciples whispered.

"Did… did Elder Fan Ming just say it was impressive?"

"But look at him! He's acting like it's nothing!"

"Did Zou Fang actually do something good? No way…"

Elder Fan Ming ignored the murmurs.

He held up the parchment and tapped it with his knuckles.

"You filled in some missing pieces," he admitted. "Your logic isn't completely flawed. Some of these adjustments are… acceptable. You balanced a few key aspects that were previously unstable. However—"

He paused.

His lips curled into a smug grin.

"—you're still a long way from perfection."

Zou Fang narrowed his eyes.

"Oh?"

Elder Fan Ming turned to the crowd.

"Listen well," he commanded, his voice carrying authority. "This so-called 'completed' recipe still has many holes. There are missing notes—inconsistencies that have yet to be resolved."

He unrolled the parchment again and pointed at a specific line of text.

"Here—look at this part. Zou Fang adjusted the ingredient ratio, but he failed to account for the spiritual reaction delay when interacting with high-energy beast cores. If used as-is, this formula would still lead to mild energy instability. It wouldn't destroy the beast, but it wouldn't maximize efficiency either."

He shifted his finger downward.

"And here—his solution for nutrient absorption improves longevity, but he overlooked the short-term energy surge problem. If a low-rank beast ate this in one sitting, it might experience uncontrolled growth spurts, leading to cellular damage over time. It's a temporary fix—not a permanent one."

He kept going.

Pointing out flaw after flaw.

Analyzing every detail of Zou Fang's adjustments.

Each word spoken with precise logic.

Each explanation filled with decades of expertise.

"And here—he used an energy-binding technique to prevent excess leakage, which is good. But he failed to consider that the core ingredient in this recipe is actually a reactive stabilizer. Meaning—"

More analysis.

More technical breakdowns.

It was long.

It was excruciatingly thorough.

It was so in-depth that even some of the other elders present looked impressed.

Some nodded.

Some scribbled notes for themselves.

Some looked downright jealous that Elder Fan Ming had gotten his hands on this research before them.

And yet—

Zou Fang just stood there.

Listening.

Watching.

Arms crossed.

Expression flat.

Finally, when Elder Fan Ming finished—when the last flaw was pointed out, when every small imperfection was laid bare—he sighed dramatically.

"So what you're saying is," Zou Fang muttered, "you solved some of the puzzles, but not all of them?"

Elder Fan Ming's eye twitched.

His lips pressed into a thin line.

The surrounding disciples sucked in their breaths.

Did Zou Fang just… talk back?

To Elder Fan Ming?

Even some of the elders watching seemed shocked at the casual tone.

For a brief moment, the air felt heavy.

And then—

Elder Fan Ming laughed.

A short, dry chuckle.

Then another.

Then a full-blown laugh.

"Hah! You brat! You have guts, I'll give you that!"

The tension snapped.

The disciples let out nervous chuckles, still uncertain.

Elder Fan Ming smirked.

"Alright then," he said, rolling up the parchment once more. "It's not complete yet. But…"

He gave Zou Fang a calculating look.

"I suppose we've taken the first step."

Inside Zou Fang's spiritual sea of consciousness, Wei Long was completely, utterly, and undeniably speechless.

No way.

No. Way.

Wei Long's mental form stood there, frozen, as if he had just been hit by a bolt of divine lightning. His reptilian tail twitched violently. His claws curled, then uncurled. His spiritual energy fluctuated erratically, as if his sheer rage could manifest into reality at any second.

Then, suddenly—

"NO. NO. THIS BASTARD IS LYING."

A mental roar erupted in Zou Fang's spiritual space, so loud that if Zou Fang's consciousness had a physical body, his eardrums would have burst on the spot.

"THAT OLD MAN IS LYING THROUGH HIS TEETH!"

Wei Long paced back and forth, his claws clicking against the invisible ground of Zou Fang's consciousness. His eyes burned with pure, undiluted frustration.

"I KNEW IT!" he howled. "I KNEW IT! THERE IS NO WAY—ABSOLUTELY NO WAY—THAT HE 'FIGURED OUT' THE 'FLAWS' IN MY RECIPE! THOSE WERE NOT FLAWS! THAT OLD GOAT JUST MADE STUFF UP ON THE SPOT!"

Zou Fang sighed. "I had a feeling."

"A FEELING?! A FEELING?! Zou Fang, are you stupid? That wasn't just a 'feeling'—it was the blatant truth! Did you see his face?! Did you hear how he started blabbering nonsense after reading it for the first time?! His entire act was as transparent as glass!"

Wei Long continued ranting—

And ranting—

And ranting.

He listed every single reason why Elder Fan Ming was lying.

Every tiny inconsistency.

Every forced flaw.

Every illogical criticism.

"The spiritual reaction delay? BULLSHIT! The short-term energy surge? ABSOLUTE LIES! The so-called 'missing notes'? NONSENSE! I DESIGNED THIS FORMULA TO PERFECTION! THERE ARE NO MISSING NOTES! I ACCOUNTED FOR EVERYTHING!"

Wei Long's rage only grew.

His tail slammed against the spiritual ground.

His claws dug deep into the space of consciousness.

If Zou Fang weren't used to Wei Long's explosive temper, he might have felt sorry for himself.

But instead, he just rubbed his temples.

"Okay, okay, I get it. He's lying. But why?" Zou Fang muttered.

Wei Long froze.

And then—

His pupils narrowed.

His voice lowered.

"Because he's planning something."

Zou Fang's fingers tensed.

"Planning what?"

Wei Long stopped his pacing.

His aura shifted.

It wasn't angry anymore.

It was calculating.

Cold.

Dangerous.

"Think about it. If Elder Fan Ming truly believed my recipe was flawed, he wouldn't have reacted like that."

Zou Fang nodded slowly.

"He wouldn't have taken so long to read it," Wei Long continued. "He wouldn't have gone silent. He wouldn't have 'solved some puzzles.' Because there were no puzzles to solve."

A moment of silence passed between them.

Then—

Wei Long growled.

"He's thinking about how to use it for himself."

—

Meanwhile, in reality, Elder Fan Ming was indeed thinking about how to use it for himself.

As he stood there, pretending to be calm, his mind was anything but calm.

'This recipe is perfect. Absolutely perfect.'

The oldest, most powerful breeders in the sect had been trying to perfect high-energy beast feeds for decades—and yet, no one had ever come up with something this flawless.

'If I take credit for this… if I claim this as my own research…'

Patriarch.

The word echoed in his mind.

Sect Patriarch.

His fingers tightened around the parchment.

He imagined himself standing at the peak of the sect.

The elders—bowing.

The disciples—revering him.

His name—etched into history as a legend.

And the Patriarch?

He would finally surpass him.

He could already see the future—

The sect growing in power.

The disciples worshiping his knowledge.

The other elders forced to acknowledge his wisdom.

Perhaps… no, definitely… he could even become one of the Ten Grand Masters of the continent!

"HAHAHAHAHAHA—"

He almost laughed aloud.

But then—

He caught himself.

He coughed, masking the near outburst.

His face returned to neutrality.

He took a deep breath.

First, he needed to play this smart.

Very, very smart.

He needed time.

And so, with the most calm and natural expression, Elder Fan Ming spoke.

"A lot has happened today," he said, smoothing out his robes. "We've had quite the eventful discussion, haven't we?"

The disciples looked at each other.

Was it over?

Were they finally done?

Elder Fan Ming smiled.

"We all need to rest."

Some disciples sighed in relief.

Some nodded.

"However," Elder Fan Ming continued, "tomorrow, I will be teaching a special lesson."

Silence.

And then—

The entire hall erupted.

"WHAT?!"

"A lesson?! From Elder Fan Ming himself?!"

"But—but he hasn't taught a public lesson in YEARS!"

The older breeder disciples who had joined the sect last year gasped aloud.

Some had tears in their eyes.

"FINALLY!"

"I'VE WAITED SO LONG FOR THIS!"

"DOES THIS MEAN WE HAVE A CHANCE TO BECOME CORE DISCIPLES?!"

The newer breeder disciples were stunned.

They had barely joined, and yet they were already being given an opportunity that even the senior disciples hadn't received in years.

Some were so overwhelmed that they almost collapsed on the spot.

"T-Tomorrow! TOMORROW! We get to learn from Elder Fan Ming himself!"

The cheers grew.

Louder.

Louder.

"Elder Fan Ming! Elder Fan Ming! Elder Fan Ming!"

The entire room shook with excitement.

Elder Fan Ming basked in their worship.

And then—

His eyes turned toward one person.

Zou Fang.

His smirk widened.

"Including you."