Wen Yan turned around, with his back to Lin Jue, and kept on eating noisily. With that small bowl of stew, he polished off both the food and the soup all by himself.
After eating his fill, he leaned back in the chair to digest.
The last time a hot meal brought him this much satisfaction was several years ago.
These days, having fallen into the Netherworld, Wen Yan's standards had dropped from wanting a place with water, internet, and air conditioning, to just being able to eat a hot meal.
No internet was still bearable. Reading more books wasn't so bad.
Most importantly, there was so much free time here, he was bored to death. His progress practicing martial arts was much faster than outside. Now he somewhat understood why both martial artists and Taoists liked to go into seclusion all the time.
Improved cultivation efficiency was secondary—the main thing was tempering one's willpower.
In modern society, anyone who can even quit their phone must have some ironclad will.
