Lin Li screamed in pain while silently inching toward the door.
His banner was still in Xue Jian's hands, but Lin Li had no intention of taking it back.
Exchanging a banner for his life? No thanks. That was a terrible deal. Right now, running away was the smarter choice.
The door was close—victory was within reach! Just a little more! Keep going!
"Stop."
Just as Lin Li reached the door, he heard the grim whisper of death behind him. For a moment, he swore he saw 'Ox-Head and Horse-Face' grinning kindly at him.
He was doomed.
Bad news—he would never see Xiao Jing again.
Good news—at least he could visit Lao Da in prison.
"Uh… the sickness is gone! I'm fine now!" Lin Li abruptly ended his act, mechanically turning around with a stiff, obedient stance. He looked at Xue Jian and pleaded, "Teacher, I swear I was blind just now. Believe me, I never lie."
Lin Li couldn't see Xue Jian's expression.
Because at that moment, Xue Jian was already seated, pressing his fingers against his forehead. His palm covered his eyes, and he gave no response to Lin Li's words.
"Come here." After a few seconds, Xue Jian suddenly spoke.
…How do you write an obituary?
Can someone watch a 30-second ad to revive me?
Moshi moshi? Online and waiting—very, very urgent.
Thank god all his browsers were in incognito mode—wait, no! Crap! He hadn't cleared his history on that one forbidden site! It would still show his bookmarked mangas! 363848—go, my legacy is all there!
With the resolve of a man walking to his execution, Lin Li dragged his feet toward Xue Jian.
Yet Xue Jian still didn't lift his head, as if he, too, didn't dare to meet Lin Li's gaze.
With a trembling hand, Xue Jian unlocked his phone with his fingerprint, then said shakily, "Take it. Scroll through. Read the chat history."
After a brief pause, he added in a quivering voice, "I'm begging you."
For the first time, Lin Li saw Xue Jian looking so… 'vulnerable'—like an elderly man at death's door. At a moment like this, who could possibly refuse his request?
Lin Li could.
—Not because he was heartless, but because he was scared.
He treated the phone like a ticking bomb, keeping his distance and only using his fingertip to swipe through the screen.
[...]
[Xue Jian: Where are all my banners? I can't find a single one!]
[Wife: Haven't seen them. Probably left them behind during the last move since they were packed away in boxes. Why do you even need them?]
[Xue Jian: My dignity is at stake! Keep looking! Keep looking!]
[Wife: They're really not here.]
[Xue Jian: Do you at least have any photos saved? I switched phones and didn't transfer the old ones.]
[Wife: Why would I keep pictures of your banners? Am I crazy?]
[Xue Jian: …Then can you make a new one for me? Hurry, I still remember what was written on one of them…]
[...]
Okay, Lin Li got the message loud and clear.
Sure, not bringing your homework counted as not having done it, but Xue Jian had actually done his.
He just lost it.
So, left with no choice, he copied it again.
And Lin Li had only caught him in the middle of doing that.
It really was a misunderstanding.
Xue Jian was a good student.
He really was.
Lin Li wanted to cry.
It made sense—after all, Xue Jian was a teacher at a prestigious school, a seasoned educator with years of experience. Of course, he would have received banners of recognition.
"Teacher, I finished reading. I understand. You really had them." Lin Li spoke cautiously, afraid that raising his voice would cause Xue Jian to have a breakdown.
"Thank you."
It was rare to hear Xue Jian say thanks.
With another trembling hand, he handed Lin Li's banner back. "Take it home. Be safe on your way back."
From start to finish, Xue Jian never once looked up at Lin Li.
But Lin Li didn't feel the slightest bit disrespected.
"Thank you, Teacher." He carefully took the banner and expressed his gratitude.
"Go." Xue Jian waved him off.
Lin Li didn't hesitate for a second. He turned and left immediately, without even looking back—because he had a feeling that Xue Jian was suppressing his second personality or some inner beast. If he lingered any longer, he might not make it out alive.
───
Lin Li got on his bike.
But instead of heading home, he first rode to an ATM and deposited most of his money into his bank account. Then, he started aimlessly wandering around Xiling Town.
Where were the dead rats? Just one would do.
Yet after half an hour of riding, the system still hadn't given him any response.
No notifications. No hints about nearby Chicken Farms.
Was his luck just that bad? Had he been cycling around all this time without passing by one?
Since he had only been riding in circles around the central area of Xiling, was it possible the place was too urbanized for the system to trigger?
It was already late. He had wasted too much time in the office. Tomorrow night, he'd ride farther out to more remote areas and see if that helped.
If he kept this up for a week without any results, then he could pretty much confirm—the system wouldn't be giving him any more direct hints.
Finding a Chicken Farm would have to be done the hard way.
Lin Li pedaled home.
Without hesitation, he materialized the Spirit Stones.
They weren't as big as he imagined.
Each Spirit Stone was actually smaller than an egg. Five of them could barely fit in one hand, and they were surprisingly light—lighter than an egg, even.
He had expected something large and weighty, like the kind you could only hold one at a time. Guess he had been overthinking.
And they didn't trigger any heavenly phenomenon either.
The stones had a crystalline luster, their insides swirling with an ethereal glow. Their shapes hovered between structured and irregular.
Lin Li brought one close to his nose and sniffed—it had a faint, pleasant fragrance. It was… appetizing.
This was the real deal.
If he tried selling these, collectors would definitely line up to buy them.
But Lin Li wasn't planning on doing that.
"Holy shit, dying was so worth it!" Lin Li grinned excitedly.
Finally, he could see what Spiritual Energy was all about!
But then, a problem arose.
The Spirit Stones were completely unbranded.
No production date. No expiration date.
And more importantly—no user manual.
In the cultivation world, this was common knowledge.
But Lin Li was not from the cultivation world.
How was he supposed to extract the Spiritual Energy?
As the saying goes—even a skilled housewife can't cook without a pot.
The Eight-Section Brocade technique he had learned did explain how to absorb Spiritual Energy, but it didn't say a word about how to handle Spirit Stones.
Lin Li experimentally took a bite.
Hard as hell.
His teeth hurt just from trying.
"These things… they wouldn't work like golden cores in novels, would they? Just swallow and refine them inside?"
They were small enough to swallow.
Lin Li held one in his mouth but hesitated to gulp it down.
Forget it. He spit it out.
It smelled appetizing, but if it turned out to be indigestible, it wouldn't just be a metaphorical stomachache—it'd be a very real, very serious problem.
If he ate it and couldn't digest it, there was no way it was coming out.
And he was not on Chengdu's must-eat list.
"A man can't let himself die from holding in his piss!"
Gritting his teeth, Lin Li decided to go all in.
He materialized the Eight-Section Brocade, flipped to the second chapter, held the Spirit Stone in his mouth, and began practicing.
As he moved through the postures, the technique actively guided his body.
"Ohhh~~~"
Lin Li couldn't help but let out a sound of satisfaction.
It worked!