Chapter 65: White Bones and Skulls, Spiritual Light as Bright as Day

At this moment.

The identity device sent a notification.

“Received transfer: 1,200,000 Alliance Credits.”

“Your balance: 2,337,609 Alliance Credits.”

Jiang Jian deleted the transfer information.

Shi Xuan’s communication followed immediately.

“Jiang Jian, I’ve sold three pieces of refined iron. I’ve transferred the money to you.”

“I told them to prioritize selling your refined iron—I haven’t sold any of mine yet.”

Shi Xuan’s tone was slightly proud, “I didn’t keep a single credit for myself.”

Jiang Jian replied: “Thank you.”

He turned off the communication and checked his balance.

2.33 million Alliance Credits.

“Enough to buy the Talent Orb.”

Jiang Jian tapped the holographic screen and exited the ladder ranking match.

The glass lid opened.

Jiang Jian stepped out of the virtual pod, picked up the Hanguang Sword from the scanning unit, and sat back on the sofa.

The items previously saved on the Linjiang online trading platform had not yet been purchased.

“Level 3 Talent Orb: Heart, Spiritual Wisdom and Thought. Price: 1,300,000 Alliance Credits.”

“Spiritual Wisdom and Thought greatly enhances mental acuity, increases sensitivity to Qi, refines control over Qi, and slightly boosts cultivation speed.”

Jiang Jian read the description and selected purchase immediately.

“You are about to purchase a Level 3 Talent Orb. This item is rare and high-value. Identity verification is required again.”

A prompt sounded.

A faint glow flickered on the identity device.

“Verification successful!”

“You may proceed with purchase!”

Jiang Jian tapped confirm.

“Purchase successful!”

“Your expenditure: 1,300,000 Alliance Credits.”

“Your balance: 1,037,609 Alliance Credits.”

He paused to think.

Jiang Jian swiped his identity device and called Jiang Zhao on real-time communication.

Beep.

Beep.

Several seconds later.

The call finally connected.

“Jiang Jian.”

His sister’s face lit up with surprise, yet her expression held a hint of bewilderment. “Didn’t you see the messages I sent you?”

Jiang Jian fell silent for a moment, then said: “I had too many unread messages. I didn’t get around to them.”

Jiang Zhao paused her cultivation; her jet-black hair cascaded down like a waterfall. “Here, I come here every day to cultivate for two hours, carrying my cultivation herbs.”

The place she sat was precisely the cultivation chamber of Anhe Academy.

Jiang Jian nodded. “I bought something. I listed your address as the delivery location. Keep an eye out for it in the next couple of days.”

“You’re not spending money recklessly again, are you?”

Jiang Zhao raised an eyebrow slightly. “Jiang Jian, what did you buy?”

Jiang Jian said: “Something useful to you.”

Jiang Zhao shrugged. “It’s not another cultivation-related item, is it?”

She stood up and pointed to the empty room next door.

“I’ve been coming here every day, listening to you, and already drawing strange looks from others.”

Though her tone carried teasing, there was no reluctance in it.

Jiang Jian asked: “How much money do you have left?”

Jiang Zhao estimated: “Including my shopping allowance, I’ve got about 70,000 Alliance Credits left.”

Jiang Jian said softly: “I’ll transfer you more money to increase your cultivation intensity.”

As he spoke, he swiped his identity device.

“Transfer successful: 500,000 Alliance Credits.”

“Your balance: 537,609 Alliance Credits.”

Jiang Zhao on the other end was momentarily stunned.

Several seconds later.

She finally saw her account balance, her face filled with surprise and worry, and she whispered involuntarily: “So much money!”

Jiang Jian said: “I still have plenty left.”

Jiang Zhao bit her lip. “Jiang Jian, you’ve never lied to me. I believe you.”

For a first-year student at Anhe Academy, 500,000 Alliance Credits was an enormous sum.

Her expression still held astonishment and delight.

A moment later.

Jiang Zhao came to her senses and suddenly remembered something. Her expression turned solemn. “By the way, Jiang Jian, I found information about your illness in the Anhe Academy library.”

She swiped her identity device and sent a message.

Jiang Jian opened the message.

Only then did he see.

Over the past two days, Jiang Zhao had sent him over a dozen messages.

The images inside were almost all taken in the Anhe Library—every one related to his illness.

Jiang Jian skimmed through these emails, then opened the one Jiang Zhao had just sent.

The photo was crystal clear.

It showed an old, yellowed page from a book.

“Soul Loss Syndrome.”

“Rare condition. First discovered in 2987. Currently, only dozens of cases remain alive across the Earth-Moon Four Realms.”

“Patients with Soul Loss Syndrome suddenly fall into unconsciousness at irregular intervals, entering a state resembling death. Each episode inflicts severe mental trauma.”

“Frequent episodes cause the patient’s spirit to disintegrate, resulting in immediate death.”

“Dozens of medical masters studied Soul Loss Syndrome. In 2989, they determined its cause.”

“The illness mostly stems from a fragmented soul.”

“Regular intake of calming medicine can slightly alleviate symptoms and delay onset.”

The ancient book page was damaged—clearly hundreds of years old.

Jiang Zhao said seriously: “Jiang Jian, this matches your symptoms exactly. You must take your medicine on time!”

Jiang Jian blinked, then said: “Alright.”

Soul Loss Syndrome.

Jiang Jian was not unfamiliar with this name.

In fact,

Jiang Jian also knew of another, even rarer form of Soul Loss Syndrome.

Soul Separation Syndrome.

Soul Separation Syndrome is a subtype of Soul Loss Syndrome, even more uncommon.

Across the Earth-Moon Four Realms, cases remain exceedingly rare.

Living beings are born with intact souls and bodies, yet their spirit and physical form exist in a bizarrely separated state.

They appear dull, vacant, like fools.

By 3227, Earth Alliance’s Divine Technology medicine could cure all brain-related diseases.

Yet Soul Separation Syndrome-induced mental dullness remained incurable.

“Only divine physicians of transcendent mastery can use unimaginable mystical methods, combined with suitable pure materials, to reunite the patient’s soul with their body.”

Jiang Jian remained silent.

Yet deep within his heart, a memory from ten years ago surfaced.

“Where would one find such a divine physician?”

The boy looked up and asked.

The man reached out, stroking the boy’s jet-black hair, and smiled gently: “I am one.”

“Jiang Jian!”

The girl’s clear, melodious voice pulled Jiang Jian back to reality.

I’m going to continue cultivating.

This cultivation room costs money.

Jiang Jian nodded and said, “Once your talent orb arrives, you’ll receive a new cultivation method—then your efficiency will improve, and you’ll progress much faster than now.”

Jiang Zhao’s pupils contracted: “Talent orb!? What level!? Those things are each worth a fortune!”

Cultivate well—these resources will last you a while.

Before she could speak, Jiang Jian ended the communication.

More unread messages flooded in.

Among them were messages from Jiang Zhao, Liu Tiezhu, Shan Ye, and other classmates.

Jiang Jian swiped away all the messages, sat where he was, and frowned.

Where exactly is my cultivation going wrong?

Lately.

Jiang Jian had noticed.

His mind had grown subtly restless.

This intuition filled him with deep unease.

“If this continues, it’s unacceptable.”

Jiang Jian closed his eyes; spiritual energy around him trembled, his thoughts churning.

“Others just starting cultivation must also hit similar bottlenecks.”

“But I’m an outsider—no senior guides, no experience to draw from.”

Suddenly, Jiang Jian thought of someone.

He opened his eyes and reopened his identity device.

In the unread messages, he searched for “Gu Qi.”

Of course.

Two days ago, there was an unread message from Gu Qi.

Gu Qi, Linjiang Academy, third-year student.

Level 4 talent, Art.

Spring Surge Realm.

Jiang Jian opened the message.

“Junior Jiang Jian, if you have time to reply, I need to speak with you.”

Gu Qi’s tone was sincere.

The academy had opened for a week; all new students’ permissions were now unlocked.

Jiang Jian could easily guess Gu Qi’s intent.

Every Divine Gift university had rare “Chief Student” slots.

“Students” could establish their own cultivation mansions.

These “cultivation mansions” featured intricate arrays, far surpassing cultivation rooms, with immense benefits.

The massive funding to build a “cultivation mansion” was provided by the academy.

Each could accommodate a fixed number of students per grade.

Each “Student” commanded many geniuses, forming their own faction.

But competing for a “Chief Student” slot was extremely difficult.

Gu Qi was at a critical stage in his bid for “Chief Student.”

No matter the grade, Gu Qi needed talented students to aid him.

(End of Chapter)