Chapter 107: Hibernation and Cultivation

Without generating Qi, you cannot cultivate with the Master.

But the fastest to generate Qi can make the Master accompany only you!

Looking at the cultivation manual in Fang Can’s hand, the three instantly had their eyes flare bright, then shouted:

“Yes, Master, we will surely meet your demands!”

At this moment, they no longer doubted whether the manual Fang Can gave them was real.

Even if it were fake, they would still cultivate with that one-in-ten-thousand chance—if they succeeded, they must make the Master treat them like a cruel bandit.

All for the Master!

Holding this thought, their glances at each other brimmed with fierce determination—tomorrow’s first slot would be theirs.

“Good. Cultivation will pass the boring hours.” Fang Can watched the three, their fighting spirit reignited, with satisfaction.

When a person is bored and lonely, they may drift toward nihilism.

Faced with endless emptiness, they might do anything—ice, self-harm, each filled with resentment like a vengeful ghost.

After all, life must have some goal, not necessarily about meaning or honor, but to keep oneself from being swallowed by nothingness.

If so, let them cultivate. If they have nothing else to do, let them cultivate.

The manual seized from Yuan Dang, “Everyone Can Cultivate,” has shockingly low difficulty—any normal person can generate Qi in two days.

Previously, when they cultivated, the residual drug residue in their bodies hadn’t even been fully absorbed; with the drug’s potency, generating Qi in a single night was no problem.

Given this, Fang Can was deeply curious: under his constant nourishment and this ultra-low-threshold manual, how fast could they ascend the Heavenly Path?

Two months? Or one month?

Even if it’s just a watered-down Heavenly Path, isn’t even the weakest one enough to utterly crush a Transformation Body?

“So, compete fiercely in my KPI.”

Fang Can smiled at the spirited girls, said “Good luck,” then turned and left the villa with Li Xi.

Only the three remained, deeply studying the manual file on Fang Can’s phone.

As the villa gate closed again, the girls no longer felt the previous emptiness—only overflowing determination.

Because they clearly knew: ahead of them lay a goal, a carrot dangled by Fang Can, within reach.

Every effort today is for tomorrow’s mad, frenzied struggle.

“To become a plush ball tomorrow!”

In their eyes burned unwavering faith—this will and belief now perfectly matched the so-called idealist cultivation system.

Who could say the Evil Fallen Sacred Body isn’t a Sacred Body? Who could say perseverance for the sake of pleasure isn’t perseverance?

Soon, over the next five hours, Fang Can had each person cultivate with him, then sent them all to practice the manual.

Honestly, due to the intense secretion of dopamine and other hormones during cultivation, most collapsed within three minutes—faster than Fang Can expected.

But since this was the case, remembering Liu Qingmeng’s teaching, he decisively switched to the next person—otherwise, they’d truly collapse.

After spending five hours bringing the remaining ninety-seven to peak condition, Fang Can chose restraint.

After all, he couldn’t pour all his focus into this alone—what about other cultivation?

Standing on the rooftop terrace, Fang Can stared at his right hand.

After hours of insight, he successfully gave his right fist the same swelling function.

Now was the time to test it.

With a thought, blood from other parts of his body surged toward his arm.

Fang Can’s fist swelled visibly before his eyes.

Within seconds, the diameter of his fist doubled, its volume increased eightfold, nearly the size of a human head.

But Fang Can felt no joy—only dizziness, his body nearly unsteady on its feet.

“Something’s off.” Fang Can gripped the railing with his left hand, shook his head, then realized what had happened.

The increased volume wasn’t created from nothing—it came from vessel dilation and increased blood flow.

Those surging blood cells were drawn from elsewhere.

Simply put: blood flowed from the big head to the small head.

Now the question: if the small head expands, where does the big head get its missing blood?

The human body is a self-contained cycle; matter isn’t created from nothing. The small head swells because it borrows blood from elsewhere.

But if the entire body wants to expand, it needs external material input—who supplies the missing portion?

Looking down at his right fist, pale yet flushed from engorgement, its defense doubled—but at the cost of ischemia elsewhere.

“This technique is good, worth further study, but to use it in battle, it needs complementary adjustments.”

“At least, I can’t use it freely before reaching the Heavenly Path,” Fang Can sighed helplessly.

His earlier dream of dominating everywhere must wait—once his body is fully sponge-like, he’ll shift his research focus elsewhere.

At this moment, after days of cultivation, Fang Can’s attribute panel read:

Name: Fang Can

Body: 8.9

Spirit: 9.9

Qi: 8.9

Flesh Alteration: 99.99997%

……

He had already reached the Ninth Layer of Xuanguan, but after yesterday’s revelry battle, he fully pushed it to its absolute limit.

Now, Fang Can faintly sensed a small chasm before him.

Beyond the chasm lay an abstract staircase.

If Fang Can wished, he could step forward now and easily cross this chasm—formidable to most martial artists—and reach the Heavenly Path.

But Fang Can knew this wasn’t the end.

He still felt his body’s strength increasing, bit by bit—slow, but real, still far from its limit.

He recalled Jiang Ningan’s words: the legendary Tenth Layer of Xuanguan.

He thought of the upcoming national competition, open only to Transformation Bodies.

He thought of his failure to even make the Dragon Rank List.

With so many conditions unmet, Fang Can decided to lie low—for now, suppress his realm.

……

In the late night, as the white-silk girl generated her first Qi, an excited cry burst from her lips.

“Tomorrow’s one hour with Fang Can is mine!”

Hearing her cry, the other girls looked at the white-silk girl with envy, lamenting why they hadn’t generated Qi first—after all, their internal Qi was nearly flowing together.

Unlike the others’ envy, in a corner room, the mature woman Ying Yue remained unmoved, still deeply cultivating.

Unlike their impatience, she intended to use scientific cultivation methods to steal Fang Can’s time!

(End of Chapter)