Chapter 7: The Daily Life of This World

The next morning, Yang Feng opened his eyes.

Although he had been tossed and turned violently in his dream, it had not affected his physical or mental state at all. He woke up feeling refreshed and invigorated!

Last night, he had fought fiercely against the blood-red shadow in his dream. After being defeated 5,630 times, he ultimately triumphed over the blood shadow. Now, his Crushing Fist technique had reached the legendary pinnacle.

He was still the same person, but he understood that he was no longer the same.

His entire aura was restrained and refined, like a grandmaster who had returned to simplicity and purity.

This was the transformation that came from cultivating a martial art to its utmost perfection.

During this process, he discovered something very important: though he had only learned half of the Crushing Fist technique, within that mysterious great hall, the full version of the Crushing Fist had somehow manifested.

This was an unexpected bonus for him.

…

After getting up and freshening up, he found the house empty—his parents had already left for the breakfast shop. Since Yang Zhi’s high school was quite far away, he had also left early, leaving Yang Feng alone at home.

After packing his bag, he went downstairs to the breakfast shop his family owned.

From afar, he could see the old signboard: Lu Qing Breakfast Shop.

When Lu Qing saw her son, a smile immediately spread across her face.

“Up already? Here, take this!” she said, handing him a big bag containing exactly thirty steamed buns.

Yang Feng instinctively took the bag of buns, a reflex cultivated over many years, even though he wasn’t hungry at the moment.

He hesitated for a moment, watching his parents’ busy figures, but in the end decided not to explain. After all, they had lived this way for many years; one more time wouldn’t matter.

“Mom, I’m heading to school now,” Yang Feng said.

“Alright, don’t let yourself get hungry!” Lu Qing reminded him, despite being busy.

“I know, Mom!” Yang Feng replied, biting into a bun in front of her before turning to leave.

Today, he was lucky—the bus arrived just as he reached the stop.

Yang Feng munched on the bun while listlessly listening to the bus announcements.

“The 15th Federation Martial Artists Conference officially convenes…”

“Humans have discovered a new type of material in the Void Realm, which may help fifth-tier martial artists advance further…”

“Federation news reports: in year 565, the employment rate of martial artists has reached 99.7%! The average annual income of a first-tier martial artist is 500,000 Federation credits!”

…

Yang Feng paid little attention to the first two news items. In the Void Realm, dozens of new materials were discovered each year, and these discoveries always followed the same pattern of reporting, no longer capturing his interest.

As for the 15th Federation Conference, such grand affairs were unrelated to someone like him—much like how young people on Earth rarely paid attention to the CCTV news in their past lives.

Only the last news item stirred some emotion in him. The good treatment of martial artists was well known.

Within the Federation, even an ordinary first-tier martial artist who never showed up to work received a subsidy of 50,000 Federation credits each year.

Civil servants and most government positions required martial artists to apply.

As for private enterprises with good benefits and high salaries, they explicitly stipulated that only martial artists could be hired.

Thus, martial artists were considered the absolute elite in the eyes of ordinary people.

But becoming a martial artist was not easy. The martial arts university only admitted 20% of all applicants each year.

Only those admitted had the qualification to become martial artists.

Before, Yang Feng hadn’t dared to dream of martial arts university—he just wanted to fill his stomach. But now things were different.

He had an advantage.

There’s an old saying: only when one’s stomach is full can one think of other things. When hungry, the mind can only focus on filling the stomach.

…

He arrived early at the classroom and found several classmates already seated, meditating and cultivating.

It seemed that with the college entrance exam approaching, the pressure on everyone had increased significantly.

Taking his seat, Yang Feng took the largest English textbook, opened it and stood it upright in front of him, then laid his head down on the desk and drifted into sleep.

He was eager to test the idea in his mind.

What if the teacher caught him during class?

He wasn’t worried. His weak body and low vitality were well known to all the subject teachers, and his prospects for the college entrance exam were bleak.

As long as he didn’t disturb others like yesterday, no teacher would bother him.

Yang Qixin, his deskmate, shook his head silently without disturbing Yang Feng’s sleep.

…

In his dream, Yang Feng’s consciousness appeared again. Two glowing orbs floated before him: one showed the Wilderness Secret Realm, the other the Shrine Secret Realm.

Other orbs appeared dim and distant, out of reach.

Without hesitation, he chose the Wilderness Dream Realm!

A force pulled him in!

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself standing on a desolate land.

Seeing this, a smile immediately appeared on his face—his guess was correct.

He could choose which dream realm to enter!

With this realization, he finally felt at ease.

But the priority now was hunting—filling his stomach!

Last night, he had been cruelly tormented. Now, only a full belly could soothe his wounded spirit!

Looking at the deathly silent wilderness, Yang Feng smiled with joy.

Though it seemed barren at first glance, he knew the world was rich in resources. If he searched carefully, he would surely find many prey!

Sure enough, after only a few hundred meters in a random direction, he saw a pair of blood-red eyes again.

Excited yet fearful, Yang Feng lunged at the turtle.

…

“Yang Feng, wake up, school’s over!”

Yang Feng slowly opened his eyes, seeing his deskmate Yang Qixin.

He stood up and stretched lazily, inadvertently revealing the six-pack abs on his stomach.

Yang Qixin, sitting beside him, was surprised. Over the past week, although his deskmate had been sleeping more and more, his complexion had improved greatly. He hadn’t been sure before, but now, seeing those faint abs, he was convinced.

Yang Feng rubbed his eyes. “School’s over already?”

Yang Qixin didn’t respond but suddenly said, “Hey, do you want to go online after class?”

At first, Yang Feng thought he misheard.

But he quickly realized otherwise and looked at his deskmate in surprise.

“Aren’t you mistaken? There’s just over a month before the college entrance exam, and you want me to go online?”

He didn’t mind. Over the past week, he had eaten dozens of strange turtles in his dreams. Though he hadn’t tested his vitality since, he felt it had far surpassed the required level for admission to a key martial arts university.

So accompanying his deskmate to the internet cafe wouldn’t affect him, but Yang Qixin’s situation was different—his overall score hovered just around the cutoff for the second-tier university. Indulging now could jeopardize his chance to get into martial arts university.

As a friend, Yang Feng decided to advise him.

“There’s only about twenty days left. You’ve made it this far. It’d be a pity to give up now.”

Yang Qixin smiled bitterly and shook his head. “I know. Because of Furong’s situation, I’ve been feeling down lately and wanted to relax a bit. Eh, forget it. I won’t go. I’m heading out now.”

Without looking back, he grabbed his bag and left the classroom.

“So it’s because of a girl,” Yang Feng muttered, shaking his head.

Some things outsiders can’t help with—it’s up to the person involved to come to terms with them.