Watching the glowing orbs enter his hands and never come out again, Lin Zhusheng opened his eyes wide and turned to the little cat beside him, whispering, “What is this thing?”

It seemed both solid and ethereal, and it was everywhere, so bright yet without causing any stir, as if no one else had noticed it. He dared to reach out for something he didn’t recognize, and only after grabbing it did he ask what it was. The little cat paused for a moment before saying, “This should be spiritual energy.”

Spiritual energy is usually invisible, but at certain times, specific people can see it briefly. It wasn’t Lin Zhusheng who was leveling up; he couldn’t see the light, but he could search the information database through narration and reminded him, “The first step in formal cultivation is to draw energy into the body and shape the spiritual meridians.”

Drawing energy into the body is one of the times when one can see spiritual energy, and what this person is experiencing should be this stage. The focus of this stage is on the spiritual meridians, and its main purpose is to shape them. The root bone determines how far a cultivator can go on their path, while the spiritual meridians determine how much spiritual power the body can hold. Once shaped, they cannot be easily changed.

The width of a cultivator’s spiritual meridians has its limits, mainly depending on talent, and one must also consider the environment during the energy-drawing process. If there isn’t enough spiritual energy around when drawing it in, even with high talent, the width of the meridians will be quite limited. Trying to remedy this later is basically as difficult as climbing to the sky.

“…”

After listening to the analysis for a long time, Lin Zhusheng finally summarized it in simple, understandable terms: “So, it means that right now, I’m deciding the upper limit of my blue bar, and the more spiritual energy, the better.”

What was supposed to be an ordinary sleepless night had unexpectedly turned into a moment that seemed a bit important for deciding his blue bar, catching him completely off guard.

That’s the gist of it. The little cat nodded and then asked with some concern, “Is there a lot of spiritual energy here?”

According to the information database, the amount of spiritual energy seen when drawing it into the body is related to one’s ability. If one’s ability is insufficient, even in an environment where the spiritual energy is so abundant it could liquefy, one might not see many orbs, and even if they do, they might not be able to absorb them.

Is there a lot?

Lin Zhusheng looked up from the window, gazing at the vast expanse of glowing orbs that looked like a galaxy, hesitatingly saying, “I guess it’s a lot.”

This was his first time doing this, with no reference point, so he could only make a judgment based on his feelings, thinking it should count as a lot.

His hesitant tone made the little cat uncertain as well. It looked at him for a couple more seconds, suspecting he might be exaggerating the situation, and after a moment of contemplation, it sighed, “That’s good.”

Being able to see it counts as a success. The game has a certain randomness in selecting players, and it had prepared for the worst-case scenario where the player was a hopeless loser; as long as they could see it, there was still hope.

Not seeking great wealth or fame, just hoping to have some ability to keep their life safe.

The still somewhat hopeful player Lin was watching more glowing orbs merge into his body, feeling that the scene was a bit peculiar while also feeling it seemed a bit slow.

It was really slow; the orbs floated lazily, and he quietly waited, the process extremely similar to a sloth picking leaves to eat—he was that quiet leaf waiting to be picked.

By the time he was picked, he would probably be falling from the tree.

The little glowing orbs merging into his body felt like a drop of water on his lips when thirsty—there was no real sensation. Waiting like this, he might not even have results by dawn.

“The person who is always late” had replaced his name and become what his peers called him in their hearts; he couldn’t let this continue. No matter what, he had to get up early tomorrow.

Standing up from the bed, he walked to the window, reaching out toward the glowing orbs in the air, raising his eyelashes and slightly moving his fingers.

He wanted all these floating orbs to come over.

And then the orbs came over. Like a still galaxy starting to move, they moved slowly yet swiftly in close proximity, leaving bright trails as they rushed from all directions.

“Whoosh—”

A wind suddenly arose, causing the bamboo forest to sway, rushing in through the window.

Not knowing what was happening, the little cat’s fur was blown into disarray, and it clung tightly to the already flipped brick on the table to avoid being blown away.

A cat’s head lifted, looking at the person standing beside it, only to see the fluttering clothes blocking its view, long strands of hair intertwining, sliding through like water, glowing faintly in the dark.

The wind changed direction, and the lifted hem of the clothes fell back down. He saw the bamboo forest outside surging, the shallow light flowing in the high sky, reflecting in his clear pupils yet shining brightly, dazzlingly bright.

A gust of wind blew in from who knows how far away, even bringing with it peach blossom petals that only belonged to another mountain, swirling away toward the distance.

It was also his first time being a newbie guide, and the little cat wasn’t very skilled either, unable to tell if this scene counted as normal. The only thing it could do was hold onto the book tightly to avoid being blown away.

The glowing orbs transformed into flowing light, falling into his palm, like water that never stopped. The visible orbs in the distance quickly decreased, and Lin Zhusheng could feel something new inside his body, but he wasn’t sure what it was, only watching the brightness on his body continuously increase.

He felt that the time must have long passed the point for sleeping.

“Whoosh—”

The wind gradually calmed down, and at the moment the last glowing orb landed in his hand, the light burst forth, and the world seemed to freeze.

The wind stilled, the trees stopped, and the sound of insects cautiously began to appear. The fluttering hem of his clothes fell back down, and the room returned to its original state, as if nothing had happened.

—But not everything remained unchanged.

The little cat, blown into the corner along with the brick, stared with its lifeless cat eyes, its fur a mess, each hair having its own thoughts.

【Current Level: LV2 (1000/2000)】

Lin Zhusheng saw the little cat squatting in the corner, more eager to mock him at the first opportunity than to check his current situation. He pointed, originally intending to laugh, but when the message prompt popped up, his smile instantly froze, and the corners of his mouth fell.

Now it was the little cat’s turn to laugh.

Good news, experience increased.

Bad news, the experience cap also increased.

After looking at the number followed by a 0 in disbelief a couple of times, Lin Zhusheng quickly thought and then calmly pointed out, “There’s a bug; there’s an extra 0 after the number. Please fix it as soon as possible.”

The little cat, while trying to smooth its fur, replied, “The system is running normally; congratulations, this is the result of your hard work.”

After reaching LV2, experience is divided into two parts: one part is the current stage’s spiritual power storage, and the other part is the actual application level of that spiritual power.

Spiritual energy shapes the spiritual meridians; the wider the meridians, the more spiritual power can be stored. The more spiritual power there is, the more practical experience is needed to learn how to use it. The extra spiritual energy just now was stored in the meridians, converted into 1000 experience, and correspondingly required another 1000 practical experience to use it proficiently; the data is correct.

“…”

If he remembered correctly, before going to sleep, leveling up from level 2 to level 3 only required 200 experience points. From 200 to 2000, it increased tenfold. Lin Zhusheng calmly made a request, stating succinctly, “I want to roll back.”

Unfortunately, although this was a game-like experience of life, it was still a real world, and time was irreversible; rollback services could not be provided.

There is no greater sorrow than a dead heart. Lin Zhusheng took two steps back, lay down on the bed, wrapped himself in the blanket, and closed his eyes, trying to escape reality by entering dreamland.

“…”

Oh, he forgot; he couldn’t sleep tonight after eating the Lingxu pastry.

Failing to fall asleep, he half-opened his eyes, sat up from the bed, resignedly turned the light back on, and flipped open the brick beside the bed.

The little cat bounced over, remembering what happened earlier, and exclaimed, “You really can’t sleep!”

So he had indeed woken it up on purpose!

A vengeful cat. Lin Zhusheng lay on the bed, flipping a page of the book, and casually ruffled the cat’s fur, making it stand up again.

The light stayed on all night, and since he hadn’t slept at all, the late king of tardiness surprisingly did not arrive late the next morning. After entering the classroom, he slumped down at his desk, completely collapsing onto it.

His good classmate, Song Ming, who also didn’t arrive late, sat beside him, still looking very outstanding, and asked about the dark circles under his eyes, which not only hadn’t disappeared but seemed to have deepened.

“This?,” he said, struggling to prop himself up from the desk, letting out a dry laugh, “Just a little proof of hard work in studying.”

Not realizing he was someone who stayed up late to study, the others who had been discussing other topics turned to look at him in surprise.

“…”

Lin Zhusheng could only continue to maintain his smile.

The others smiled back and turned their heads back to continue their previous topic.

They were talking about the strange disappearance of spiritual energy last night. It was said that an elder in charge was asking if anyone knew the details, looking quite concerned.

Since entering the classroom, he had been hearing people discussing the events of the previous night. Song Ming also had some vague understanding and recalled something, turning to the person beside him, asking, “I heard the place with the most commotion last night seemed not far from you. Did anything happen?”

Among the group of classmates in front, someone clenched their fist, indignantly saying they had stayed up late meditating last night, and no wonder they felt no progress; it turned out there was no spiritual energy at all.

The others echoed, saying that if they found out who did it, they would definitely do this and that, showing no mercy.

“…Ah, yeah.”

Retracting his eavesdropping ears, Lin Zhusheng slightly shifted his gaze, vaguely replying, “Not too sure.”

He pointed at himself, saying seriously, “After all, I’m the kind of person who gets very invested in studying.”