Chapter 11

We agreed to stay up all night, but it wasn’t even midnight yet, and Lin Mo was nearly falling asleep again.

He rubbed his flushed cheeks and muttered to himself:

“You’re a cultivator—how important can sleep really be?”

Ancient cultivators supposedly replaced sleep with seated meditation, never stopping for the full twelve hours of the day—their diligence was the very model for modern cultivators.

If Lin Mo could do the same, even without the [Merit Woodfish], he might already have reached Qi Refining mid-stage.

Hustle!

Lin Mo rolled over and sprang to his feet.

Seated meditation had lost its meaning for him; sitting alone in his room at night and tapping the woodfish only made him more sleepy.

Better to leave the house and practice walking Zhuang in the park—it would wake him up.

He quickly changed into sportswear, grabbed his keys, and stepped out the door.

Outside, he Raoguo the overgrown greenery in the compound’s central courtyard, and as he passed the guard booth at the main gate, he tossed two coins into the air.

“Clang!” Two soft sounds—the coins landed precisely in the porcelain bowl placed on the guard’s windowsill.

“Uncle Qin, open the gate!”

Before long, Uncle Qin, alerted by the sound of money, stepped out wearing his security uniform.

He glanced at the coins in his bowl, then glared at Lin Mo and said:

“What’s gotten into you at this hour?”

Still, he snatched the coins into his pocket with lightning speed, unlocked the gate for Lin Mo, and added as he turned away:

“Back by two a.m. at the latest—or you’ll be stuck here till five forty tomorrow morning!”

Your uncle really is your uncle—he only sleeps three hours a night… Right now, Lin Mo felt a flicker of awe toward Uncle Qin.

If Uncle Qin can stay up till two a.m. just to earn extra cash, why can’t I stay up till two just to cultivate?

Lin Mo stepped over the gate’s low fence, and a summer night breeze hit his face.

“Huh~!”

His eyes brightened slightly; the breeze carried away some of his drowsiness.

Lin Mo looked up—and just then, a flying sword streaked across the city’s night skyline like a falling star.

So cool—sword cultivator!

He gazed enviously at the sword immortal racing past the heavens.

Since ancient times, sword cultivators have always been the most glamorous profession in the cultivation world.

But reportedly, sword cultivators demand extremely high conditions—first and foremost, they must possess a pure single-element Metal Spirit Root.

Just that one requirement has blocked countless cultivators.

Lin Mo had once imagined himself, elegant and poised, standing atop a flying sword as he shot past crowds, leaving only a receding, graceful silhouette.

Too bad—he had a Five-Element Spirit Root. Even with a cheat, he’d never become a sword cultivator.

I wonder what kind of cultivator I’ll be able to switch to after the Immortal Exam…

Lin Mo sighed and looked away, stretching his arms.

It was nearly midnight—Rongcheng’s lights had just come on, and the night life was beginning.

Colorful fireworks scattered across the city, casting layered halos on towering skyscrapers; the glittering high-rises, like precious gems, drew the eye again and again.

At that moment, a faint whiff of grilled meat drifted across the street…

Lin Mo swallowed hard, patted his empty pockets, then resolutely headed toward the Shaha Park behind the compound.

As he walked, he poured his accumulated merit into the Spirit Root on his interface.

【You invested merit into the Metal Spirit Root…】

As the notification ended, the purity of his Metal Spirit Root reached 32%, and his average Spirit Root value just crossed 22%.

Good—another small step closer to genius!

Lin Mo nodded in satisfaction and began jogging along the quiet path behind the compound.

He watched the night scenery along the river, feeling the breeze gently brush his cheeks.

By the time he reached the pavilion in Shaha Park, his last traces of drowsiness vanished.

Suddenly, another whiff of grilled meat drifted over.

He followed the scent—and saw a barbecue stall set up at the park’s corner.

“...Can’t escape it even here.”

Lin Mo grumbled.

Few people ran on the park’s outer track, but more gathered near the pavilion.

No noisy square dancing, no shouting vendors.

In the evening, most here were elderly folks practicing Zhuang or moving through martial forms.

“Hey!”

“Ha!”

“Hok!”

“...”

Their strong, clear voices echoed constantly, their faces utterly serious.

In the cultivation era, even if you couldn’t walk the Immortal Path, mastering Qi Refining techniques could still extend your life easily.

Combined with modern nutrition, average lifespans now exceeded a hundred years.

With some health-preserving arts, living to 120 wasn’t impossible.

Clearly, the desire for longevity had become the dominant worldview of the Great Cultivation Era—without exception.

Lin Mo was just about to find an open spot to practice Kuixing Zhuang , when a flash of red caught his eye.

A bright red Daoist robe, a neat, tidy bun, sharp phoenix eyes brimming with vigor…

Huh—isn’t that the campus beauty?

He looked closer—the girl practicing Zhuang near the pavilion could only be Chu Wange.

“The campus beauty practices Zhuang too?”

Lin Mo watched curiously as she trained Kuixing Zhuang near the pavilion.

Chu Wange still wore the striking red Daoist robe—though the color was garish, on her it radiated clarity and transcendence.

She carried a sword on her back, her steps steady, her muscle control precise as she shifted her Zhuang stance.

Her entire routine flowed like water, as solid and calm as the old men beside her.

Of course, that wasn’t an insult.

These retired elders loved practicing Zhuang in the park, and sometimes even held senior Zhuang competitions.

Their Zhuang skills were so refined, even Foundation Establishment cultivators might not surpass them.

Chu Wange, so young, moved with the same solemn, seasoned grace as those old men.

Even if not perfect, she must be nearly there… Lin Mo speculated silently.

“No wonder she’s Number One at Nanshan—still hustling this late!”

He couldn’t help but sigh, then pulled his focus back.

“I need to hustle too!”

Lin Mo didn’t have the nerve to join her directly; instead, he picked a quiet spot near the river and began practicing Kuixing Zhuang himself.

The Kuixing Zhuang taught at school, compared to spells he’d unlocked, had the advantage of detailed instruction from the teacher—making it easier to master.

As one of the most common Zhuang techniques accessible to the public, its key principles are: top collapse, joint alignment, relaxation, dispersion, letting go, and non-stopping.

Lin Mo had practiced walking Zhuang for years—he knew these principles by heart.

But knowing them and doing them right were two different things.

He strained to control his body, but his eighteen-year-old frame simply wasn’t as nimble as those elders’—his movements looked visibly stiff compared to the old folks around him.

The entire Zhuang routine was only twelve steps, yet it took him five or six minutes to complete.

Zhuang skill is fundamental—its quality was instantly obvious.

Compared to the old men who finished the full routine in under a minute, Lin Mo looked more like an old man than they did.

“Huh~!”

He took a deep breath, didn’t lose heart, and quickly calmed his mind, beginning his next round of walking Zhuang .