Zhou Leng walked to the living room sofa, sat down, and looked at the faded edge of the electronic calendar.
July 6th, Friday.
June 7th was the academic exam of the high school exam, June 22nd was the physical exam, and seven days from now, July 13th, is the final exam of the high school exam, the martial arts exam.
Took out his phone and looked at the cobweb crack in the lower right corner of the screen.
Covered by the phone film, the impact wasn't significant.
Entered the class parent group to check the messages from various subject teachers and various materials for the martial arts exam.
As he watched, night fell.
Zhou Leng got up, just about to go out for evening cultivation, remembering Uncle Li's words.
These nights might not be peaceful.
He glanced at the green wristband on his left wrist.
After hesitating for a moment, although the effect of cultivating at home is slightly worse, if he encounters danger again...
He laid out the exercise mat, did a little warm-up, and performed a set of Overlapping Waves Palm...
After cultivating External Skills, Zhou Leng took a short break, took out a basin of beans, mixed with mung beans, red beans, and soybeans, spread a large sheet in the living room, and hung up a white paper filled with spots on the wall.
Zhou Leng kept taking beans from the basin, using True Qi to control his fingers, flicking the beans, hitting the spots on the white paper, cultivating his control over True Qi.
After cultivation, he stretched, then washed up and went to sleep.
It was dawn.
Zhou Leng walked into the kitchen.
Took out a bag of basic Morning Exercise Powder, tore it open, poured it into the shaker cup, and added cool boiled water.
The surface of the shaker cup was full of grind marks.
Tightened the cup lid, shook vigorously for 20 seconds, pried up the cover of the drinking mouth, but it wouldn't move.
Raised the shaker cup, checked, it was broken, unscrewed the entire lid, tilted the bottle to the mouth, and drank sip by sip.
After finishing the Morning Exercise Powder, Zhou Leng picked up his phone and keys, and pushed the door open.
The hallway carried a faint scent of meat and herbs.
Exiting the residential area, Zhou Leng warmed up on the jogging track.
Faint clouds scattered in the sky.
Approaching Longyou River Park, more and more people gathered.
Children lightly leapt, jumping onto the two-meter high horizontal bars, running across with giggles.
Youths practiced their punches thoroughly, their gazes focused.
Young adults utilized various weights of dumbbells, barbells, and stone locks marked with "100 kg", "500 kg", "1000 kg", etc., to train their bodies.
Middle-aged individuals meditated with earphones in remote corners, some even engaged in fishing while meditating.
Elders gathered, either exchanging Martial Arts philosophies or discussing major affairs of the Ten Realms.
From the side of the Longyou River Park square, a grand sound arose, drawing Zhou Leng's gaze.
The light from the demonic projector shot into the sky, interweaving into a vast image of land.
Amidst white rivers and green fields, immense urban ruins came into view, smoke rising, turning the ground black.
A myriad of demons ran and leapt among the city ruins.
Decades ago, during the technological era, for unknown reasons, Blue Star and the other nine worlds overlapped and connected.
The Ten Realms War broke out.
An aged voice resonated in the projection.
"... behind, the children's desks were burning..."
The original projection dissipated, transforming into the image of Martial Ancestor Yu Zhimin, standing on the oath-swearing platform in a grey-green Zhongshan suit, his hair snowy white.
"...we must make sure the desks in front of the children are peaceful and quiet."
After Yu Zhimin finished his final sentence, the projection slowly changed.
Martial Ancestor Yu Zhimin did not know martial arts.
Nor was he from the Martial Arts Civilization era.
Yet, in the last year of the technological era, he led the warriors, with the mighty power of thousands of nuclear explosions, as if bearing the great sun, perishing together with the enemies, seizing the top spot in that Ten Realms war.
However, in the subsequent grand decisive battle, the Human Race was defeated, forced to initiate the era of Martial Arts Civilization.
The overlapping of the Ten Realms nurtured many magical artifacts and powers.
The spoils of that Ten Realms war became the cornerstone of the human Martial Arts Civilization.
Thus, through a United Nations vote, humanity revered Yu Zhimin as the Martial Ancestor.
Zhou Leng looked up at the east, the overcast clouds obscured the sun, then turned his gaze to the couplet inscribed on the stone pillars at the sides of Ruge Park Square.
A bright red background with golden carved words.
Becoming a marquis is not my intention, I only wish for peace in the seas.
Zhou Leng stared at the two lines repeatedly, a flash of light in his eyes.
He took out his phone, started the timer, deepened his breathing, exerted all his True Qi, and sprinted onto the red fast-running road.
Running with Qi all the way.
"Huff..."
Zhou Leng pressed the stop button, walking toward the sidewalk while looking at the phone screen,
03:10:22.
3 minutes and 10 seconds.
This means that if he fully exerted his True Qi in battle, he could last for 3 minutes and 10 seconds.
A second improvement from yesterday.
Getting one step closer to entering the Affiliated Martial Arts Hall of Ruda.
Zhou Leng walked onto the jogging track, looking ahead.
Ruge Mountain towered directly in front, embraced by green trees and white stones, with Ruge Mountain Park extending from the foot of the mountain to the mountainside.
To the right ahead stood an array of teaching buildings and several large Martial Arts Dojos.
There was the Rucheng Martial Arts University Ruge Mountain Campus and the Affiliated Martial Arts Hall of Rucheng Martial Arts University.
Lying in the woods to the left ahead was the unassuming Xiaoru Village.
Zhou Leng lived on the outskirts of Rucheng, very close to Ruge Mountain, and Xiaoru Village was the endpoint of his daily run.
His father was born in Xiaoru Village.
In childhood, he often stayed at the ancestral home in Xiaoru Village, going less as he grew up, yet visiting at least twice a month.
Because the back mountain of Xiaoru Village was peaceful and very suitable for cultivation.
Zhou Leng looked puzzled in the direction of Xiaoru Village.
A faint white mist pervaded, shrouding the mountain village and also the west side of Ruge Mountain.
When he came yesterday morning, everything was fine.
Zhou Leng tried hard to recall; his memory contained moments of the entire city covered in fog and the entire mountain shrouded, but only the west side of Ruge Mountain being foggy had never appeared.
"It should just be a coincidence..."