Time slipped by, lost in a blur of sweat and mechanical repetition.
For most of the students at the Extreme Martial Arts Hall, these past fifteen days had been dull, exhausting, and filled with uncertainty.
But for Qin Feng, they were the most fulfilling fifteen days of his life.
Simply because his efforts were paying off.
Tangible rewards!
He was no longer plagued by the chronic ailment that had once held him back.
Night. The Silver Gull community, seventeenth floor.
Qin Feng sat in his cramped room, his body still radiating the lingering heat from his training.
Instead of going straight to sleep as he usually did, he activated the personal terminal on his wrist.
The vast but gentle energy from the canister of Spiritual Energy Potion, a gift from Sun Chan Hall, had been completely depleted during yesterday's training.
From now on, each cycle of "damage-recover-improve" would rely entirely on his body's natural healing and sustenance from ordinary food.
His training efficiency would undoubtedly drop.
So before that happened, he needed to take a comprehensive stock of his progress over the past fifteen days.
He pulled up his personal information interface.
A pale blue screen of light materialized in the air, lines of data clearly displayed upon it—a silent record of his arduous training over the last fifteen days and nights.
[Name: Qin Feng]
[Vitality Index: 0.89]
This number had already safely surpassed the minimum admission requirement of 0.8 for a regular high school.
He was also just a step away from the 1.0 threshold required for an elite Martial Arts High School.
He closed his personal information and opened his physical fitness test records.
These were the results of a test he had paid for himself at the Martial Arts Hall earlier today.
[Punching Power Test (Right Hand): 498KG]
[100-Meter Sprint Speed: 10.2 seconds]
[Neural Response Time: 0.09 seconds]
Every one of these stats far exceeded the average for a fifteen-year-old.
In this world, only when one's Vitality Index reached 1.0 were they considered to have officially crossed the threshold to become a First-level Martial Artist. Their physical prowess was roughly equivalent to surpassing what was once considered the peak of human physiological limits in the old era.
And right now, Qin Feng's stats were drawing ever closer to that critical point.
Finally, he cast his gaze toward the panel deep within his consciousness, one that only he could see.
[The Celestial Dao rewards the diligent; toil without cease.]
[Host: Qin Feng]
[Vitality Index: 0.89]
[Mastered Techniques:]
[Empire Basic Body Refining Technique (Entry-level)]
[Proficiency: 72/100]
[Note: Upon reaching 100 Proficiency, you may advance to the Minor Success Realm.]
Fifteen days, maintaining a growth of 4 proficiency points per day, for a total increase of 60 points.
Adding that to his original 12 points, his proficiency was now at 72.
He was only 28 points away from the Minor Success Realm.
At most, it would only take seven days.
Qin Feng dismissed all the screens of light, and the room returned to darkness.
He sat on the edge of his bed, his fists clenching unconsciously.
The feeling of power coursing through his body was so real, so intoxicating.
Just then, the door to his room was pushed open gently.
"Not asleep yet?"
It was the voice of his father, Qin Dahai. He didn't turn on the light, making his way to Qin Feng's bedside by the faint glow filtering in from the living room.
"Dad."
Qin Feng stood up.
Qin Dahai was holding something in his hand.
He held it out in front of Qin Feng.
It was an unmarked white metal canister.
Qin Feng's pupils contracted sharply.
He was all too familiar with this metal canister.
Its size, shape, and material were all identical to the one Sun Chan Hall had given him half a month ago.
"This is..."
Qin Feng's voice was laced with uncertainty.
"A basic Spiritual Energy Potion."
Qin Dahai's voice was as steady as ever. He pressed the metal canister into Qin Feng's hand; it felt cool and heavy.
"Pursuing the Martial Dao isn't just about hard work and eating well. The body needs vast amounts of Spiritual Energy as fuel to recover and evolve. This Spiritual Energy Potion is the most basic, all-purpose fuel."
He paused, then continued to explain, "The standard-issue potions available on the market in the Empire are primarily categorized into three types based on concentration and purity: Basic, Intermediate, and Advanced. They correspond to the needs of the first three levels of Martial Artists, respectively. What you're holding is a basic one."
Qin Feng looked down at the metal canister in his hands and thought again of Sun Chan Hall.
Only now did he realize that the seemingly gruff Hall Master had so casually gifted him something incredibly precious.
He immediately lifted his wrist, activated his terminal, and navigated to the Empire's official online marketplace. In the search bar, he typed the words "Basic Spiritual Energy Potion."
The search results appeared instantly.
Amidst the long list of products, the familiar white metal canister was listed.
And underneath it, marked in startling crimson digits, was the price.
[Price: 10,000 Imperial Coins/canister]
Ten thousand!
Qin Feng's finger froze in mid-air.
His father's entire monthly salary was only ten thousand Imperial Coins.
After paying for his medical treatments for seven or eight years, and then enrolling him in the Martial Arts Hall, the family had already spent all their savings. His uncle had even contributed another ten thousand.
'So where did his father get another ten thousand to buy this Potion?'
He snapped his head up to look at his father. His lips parted, but a thousand questions caught in his throat.
As if reading his mind, Qin Dahai spoke before he could. "Don't worry about the money. I took an advance on a few months' salary from the factory. I gave my manager my word."
"Your only mission right now is to train. Don't think about anything else. Give it your all and prepare for the entrance exams. As long as you can get into a Martial Arts High School, all of this will be worth it."
He patted Qin Feng's shoulder. The hand of his one arm was heavy and powerful.
Qin Feng looked at his father's face, its contours sharp in the darkness. He looked into those calm, unwavering eyes and swallowed all of his questions.
He took a deep breath and nodded solemnly. "Dad, I understand."
With that, he reactivated his personal terminal and displayed the numbers that represented fifteen days of his blood, sweat, and tears for his father to see.
"Dad, look."
[Vitality Index: 0.89]
[Punching Power Test (Right Hand): 498KG]
[100-Meter Sprint Speed: 10.2 seconds]
[Neural Response Time: 0.09 seconds]
Qin Dahai's gaze fell upon the numbers.
The very air seemed to freeze in that moment.
The man who had supported his entire family with silence and fortitude staggered almost imperceptibly when he saw the numbers.
His breathing suddenly grew ragged.
He reached out his calloused right hand, fingers trembling, as if to touch the screen of light floating in the air and confirm it wasn't a hallucination.
"Zero... point eight nine?"
He forced the four words from his throat, one by one, his voice as hoarse as if it had been scraped with sandpaper.
Qin Dahai was stunned.
He had once served in the military and had even been a Third-level Martial Artist. Although an injury from a Flame Demon had caused his physical capabilities to decline sharply, his experience and judgment remained!
Fifteen days.
In just fifteen days.
To go from a sickly youth with a Vitality Index of only 0.41—whose foundations doctors had declared permanently damaged, his future hopeless—to a Quasi-Martial Artist whose Vitality Index had skyrocketed to 0.89, just a single step away from an elite Martial Arts High School.
'What kind of growth rate was this?'
'This couldn't even be described as "meteoric."'
'This was nothing short of a miracle!'
Qin Dahai snapped his head up, his eyes burning as he stared at Qin Feng. Those pupils, usually as calm as a still well, were now churning with a storm of disbelief and ecstatic joy.
"Good... Good! Excellent!"
He said it three times, his voice growing louder with each word until it was almost a low roar.
It was the sound of emotions, suppressed for far too long, finally bursting forth.
"A genius! My son is a genius!"
Qin Dahai grabbed Qin Feng's shoulders and shook them hard, an irrepressible smile spreading across his face. Even the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes seemed to smooth out from the sheer joy.
"I knew it! I knew you weren't lacking in talent, son! It was that damned ailment holding you back! Now that it's gone, your talent has finally been unleashed!"
According to the Empire's Martial Dao theory, besides effort and resources, a person's training speed was determined by two core factors: "Spiritual Energy Utilization Rate" and "Aptitude."
Aptitude, for the moment, was less important, as it didn't have a major impact on the first three levels of a Martial Artist.
Spiritual Energy Utilization Rate, however, was a different story—its impact was enormous.
For example, take a basic Spiritual Energy Potion containing 100 units of Spiritual Energy.
A person with average talent might only have a bodily absorption and conversion efficiency of 10%, meaning only 10 units of that Spiritual Energy would ultimately contribute to their growth.
Geniuses, on the other hand, had a naturally high affinity for Spiritual Energy. Their absorption and conversion efficiency could be 20%, 30%, or even higher.
With the same resources and the same effort, a genius's rate of progress was several times that of an ordinary person.
In Qin Dahai's mind, there was only one explanation for Qin Feng's staggering progress over the last fifteen days: his son was a born Martial Dao genius with an incredibly high Spiritual Energy Utilization Rate!
"Drink it!"
Qin Dahai pushed the canister of Spiritual Energy Potion toward Qin Feng again, his voice filled with undeniable excitement.
"With this Potion, you might even have a chance to break through to 1.0 before the entrance exams and become a true First-level Martial Artist!"
"Son, all our efforts haven't been in vain!"
Qin Feng clutched the heavy canister, feeling the warmth from his father's hand, and nodded solemnly.
"Yes, Dad."