Chapter Eleven: Extraordinary Efficiency

Gold coins falling from the sky—such things are not entirely impossible. For example, several years ago, Luo Chen heard of a hurricane over the Borro Sea that swept away a ship laden with gold coins, showering the shores outside Slo City with a rain of gold, bringing unexpected fortune to the local fishermen and dockworkers.

Yet for memories to inexplicably fall from the heavens—now that was far beyond belief. At least, Luo Chen had never heard of any method by which memories could be directly bestowed upon another. Could it be that in the Hungry Ghost Marsh there truly lurked some unfathomable master, and that this master had invented some mystical technique—something as fantastical as “Heaven and earth cast into shadow, sun and moon darkened, wind and sand raging, ghosts and wolves howling, enlightenment like a thunderclap”—and while rescuing him, had conveniently copied and pasted their insights into Luo Chen’s mind?

No, that was impossible!

Luo Chen swiftly rejected his own wild conjecture. If such a method existed, there would be no need for academies, and all the teachers could pack up and go home.

First, he survived the Hungry Ghost Marsh. Then, despite not eating for two days, he felt no hunger. Then came the mysterious ring that could not be removed, and now, these sudden insights. So many inexplicable events had unfolded in such a short time that Luo Chen felt his mind was beginning to short-circuit.

Calm yourself, Luo Chen. You must remain calm. In this wondrous world, anything is possible!

Even if that academy student Alice, with her enormous pancake face and features arranged like the aftermath of a carriage accident, suddenly woke up one day as a beauty on the level of Elijia, you must remain calm!

He forced himself to face reality. Yet now, he was confronted with another choice: what to do with these newfound insights that had appeared without cause.

Accept them?

Or ignore them?

After studying the Art of Gathering Qi for over two years, Luo Chen had developed some analytical ability. In the end, he decided to first see if these strange insights held any merit, and so he began to analyze them.

Very quickly, he realized his analysis was almost redundant, for these insights felt utterly familiar, as if they were conclusions he himself had reached through practice—they were naturally quite reasonable.

The more Luo Chen analyzed, the more he realized that if he followed these insights to practice the Art of Gathering Qi, his breathing exercises would become far more effective. To be honest, these insights also offered quite a few criticisms of the original technique; after such revisions, the original method was almost unrecognizable, transformed into something entirely new.

After some consideration, Luo Chen decided to give it a try, for the new insights were simply too convincing to ignore.

The first change in the new version was the posture for breathing exercises.

Seated cross-legged on his bed, Luo Chen folded his legs, rested his palms on his abdomen with thumbs facing each other and palms turned upward. His gaze was directed from eyes to nose, nose to mouth, mouth to heart.

Almost all breathing techniques, including the Art of Gathering Qi, required an upright posture, eyes fixed straight ahead. That was the conventional way; variations were rare, and Luo Chen’s peculiar posture was perhaps unique on the entire continent.

Though the new method brought major changes, it was still based on the original technique, so Luo Chen found it relatively easy to perform for the first time. As his mind focused, his body relaxed. Air was drawn into his chest, lungs, and blood with each breath. The spiritual energy within the air circulated through his limbs and bones, slowly transforming muscle, tendons, and bones—this was the principle behind the breathing practice.

As he continued, Luo Chen’s breathing grew ever steadier, exhale and inhale nearly simultaneous. The breath was so soft and peaceful that it seemed almost to stop, while his heartbeat slowed until it pulsed only once every five seconds—far below the normal rate. Even the most knowledgeable experts would be astonished to witness such a state, for it was utterly extraordinary.

For those who cultivated their inner strength, the mind was highly focused, and those with a certain foundation in spiritual energy could keenly sense the warmth of spiritual energy permeating every part of the body. This was the sign of absorbing spiritual energy through breath.

In stark contrast to his outward calm, Luo Chen’s heart was in turmoil. He was utterly amazed. Using the revised technique, the speed at which he absorbed spiritual energy was astonishing. Warmth suffused him rapidly. Soon, he felt as if he were basking under the blazing sun, though his body temperature remained perfectly normal.

Meanwhile, the plain, ancient ring on his left middle finger began to emit a faint white glow, pulsing in rhythm with Luo Chen’s breathing like a tiny firefly.

When the inflow of warmth ceased and the sensation of heat gradually faded, returning to normal, his body had reached complete saturation with spiritual energy. Further practice would be futile. Luo Chen came out of his meditative state.

His body now felt extraordinarily light. Without much effort, he pressed on the wooden bed and sprang up, flipping several times in the air before landing gracefully on the floor.

He immediately pulled out his mechanical watch to check the time.

Forty-seven minutes! This breathing session had taken only forty-seven minutes!

The normal time was an hour and a half!

To reach saturation in a little over half the usual time—what did that mean?

The efficiency of his breathing practice had nearly doubled!

Even the most profound top-tier breathing techniques, when practiced by geniuses with outstanding physiques and talent, could at best improve efficiency by forty or fifty percent. Yet Luo Chen’s had increased by a full hundred percent!

It was simply incredible—even Luo Chen himself could scarcely believe it.

Amid his excitement, however, a faint unease lingered. As Tutor Hogg had once said, there were some shortcut methods on the continent, but these were often unorthodox, carrying serious hidden dangers.

Some such techniques could lead to internal deviation, paralysis, sudden death, or drastically shortened lifespans for spiritual warriors. In short, those who practiced unorthodox methods always paid a heavy price; otherwise, if such miraculous shortcuts truly existed, the Hall of Sacred Martial Arts would long ago have spread them to the world.

Yet Luo Chen did not believe the breathing technique he just practiced was unorthodox, for it was based on the Art of Gathering Qi, which was created by the Hall of Sacred Martial Arts and regarded as the most standard foundational breathing method. How could it be related to heretical arts?

On the other hand, since the Art of Gathering Qi was already a time-honored, rigorously refined technique of the Hall of Sacred Martial Arts, how could anyone modify it so profoundly and improve its effectiveness by such a margin? Did this defy all reason?

Luo Chen felt another headache coming on, but in the end, he decided not to dwell on it. He would go to class first—he had already missed several days, including yesterday. This could not go on.

No matter how notorious his reputation became, he still had to face his tutors and classmates.

[From the heart: This time contending for the rankings has been the most difficult in my four years as an author. The last time was back when I first arrived at Qidian, uploading the debut week of “Pharmacist of Another World.” There were no recommendations, no popularity, and I had nothing but my own efforts to rely on. I remember that Sunday night, a fellow author who arrived at Qidian when I did, also vying for the rookie list, and I stayed up all night at our computers. The competition was fierce—we stared at the screen like wild beasts, watching the votes rise and fall, chain-smoking until we ran out in the middle of the night and had to go to the convenience store for more.

Though we didn’t make the list at first, we didn’t lose heart. We encouraged each other, reached out to everyone we knew—and even to those we didn’t—to ask for votes. By dawn, our spirits soared because we’d finally made the list, and “Pharmacist” began to climb, gaining recognition. The second week’s struggle was not so arduous. Yet I will always cherish that tough night, the time spent out in the cold buying cigarettes, the tension, the excitement. Just the other night, I relived those unforgettable feelings because, after midnight, I didn’t make the list right away and again kept vigil before the screen all night. Sadly, this time, there was no one to encourage me; my closest writing companion from those days had already left Qidian, and I could no longer reach him, could no longer hear warm words in the chilly midnight air.

But I am not alone, because I know that many brothers, though we may not be in direct contact, have always silently supported me. With your company, with your support, my fight is not a solitary one. So I will fight to the end, until the last bullet and the last grain of rice!

Dawn has come again. “Divine Emperor” is now on the list, though its position is not yet stable. Brothers, I need your continued support—fight by my side, and I will use this long-lost passion to ignite the fire in your hearts!]