Chapter Nine: The Realm of Research

With this thought, Shen An suddenly said, “Big Sis, what does it matter to you where I go?”

“You had a stomachache at noon. Where do you think I went?”

Bai Weiwei looked into Shen An’s eyes, unconvinced by his answer.

But there was nothing she could do—Shen An was certain she had no idea what he’d really been up to.

“Hmph, it can’t have been anything good. Sooner or later I’ll catch you red-handed.”

Weiwei didn’t mention the fact that she’d been keeping tabs on Shen An. Since he’d figured it out, she didn’t intend to bring it up again. After all, she was in the wrong.

Weiwei untied Shen An.

He stretched his limbs, then moved a few steps away from her, unwilling to sit together.

“Big Sis, how did you know I was here?” Shen An asked, feigning curiosity, although he knew full well Bai Weiwei had been watching him. This was Sun Ming’s room.

“Why do you care so much?” Weiwei replied, feeling a bit guilty. “It’s just a place to stay. If I wanted to find you, it wouldn’t be hard.”

“You’ve really got some nerve. Just to avoid me, you don’t even go home.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to go back,” Shen An shook his head. “You know how terrifying that earthquake was. That floor is too dangerous. It’s safer here.”

At this, Shen An suddenly grew curious. “By the way, what is it you actually do?”

Weiwei’s face turned cold. “Don’t ask. Knowing too much isn’t good for you. And has that person who sent you to Qianling Mountain been in touch?”

Only then did Shen An realize—Weiwei had come for the one behind the scenes.

But she could never imagine that the mysterious figure she sought was none other than himself—his future self, ten years hence.

“No, that person seemed very mysterious. I doubt I’ll ever see him again in this life,” Shen An replied nonchalantly.

“If you do, remember to tell me.”

With that, Bai Weiwei left.

Shen An finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“This woman really is a handful. I’ll have to be more careful in the future,” he thought. With a single thought, he entered the space of his innate talent.

He appeared by a lakeshore. On the bank was a bed, complete with bedding, and all sorts of weapons scattered about—objects his space had devoured.

For now, it seemed his consciousness alone could enter; after his mind entered the space, his body would lie motionless in the real world, as if asleep.

He picked up a gun, examined it briefly, then tossed it aside. These were things that couldn’t see the light of day; he couldn’t use them for now.

“Wait, if I can swallow things into the space, can I also take them out?”

With this thought, Shen An’s mind returned to his body.

Back in the room, Shen An opened his eyes. He focused his mind on retrieving something from the space.

With a swish, a bed appeared in the room.

Delighted, Shen An tried again, and another object materialized—a quilt, a pillow, and even droplets of water.

These were from the lake in his space, which he now drew out, drop by drop, collecting them in an empty bottle on the desk. For the sake of his experiment, he’d emptied out a bottle of cola.

He filled it with lake water.

After finishing his experiments, Shen An lay down on the bed.

He now had a rough understanding of the space’s utility, but there were other uses yet to be discovered.

Just then, Sun Ming opened the door and entered. Seeing Shen An on the bed and a bottle of water on the desk, Sun Ming hurried over, grabbed the bottle, and twisted off the cap.

Glug, glug!

“Ah, that’s good. I was dying of thirst.”

In a few gulps, Sun Ming drained the bottle.

Shen An sat up in alarm—he’d wanted to stop him, but it was too late. The fool hadn’t even checked—wasn’t that a cola bottle?

“You didn’t even check if it was cola before drinking?”

Sun Ming paused, puzzled by Shen An’s words, and instinctively glanced at the bottle in his hand.

“Cola—wait, has cola come out with a new product?”

He blurted out in surprise.

Shen An covered his face in exasperation.

“Hang on, what did you put in this bottle?” Sun Ming finally caught on and looked at Shen An. Suddenly, he said, “Hey, did you buy a new bed?”

Dealing with this friend, Shen An felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. Sun Ming’s reactions were always so slow.

As Shen An wondered how to explain, Sun Ming suddenly clutched his stomach, squeezed his legs together, and dashed to the bathroom.

Two hours passed.

The sound of the toilet flushing rang out from the bathroom.

Shen An listened intently, curious.

After two and a half hours, Sun Ming staggered out, supporting himself on the wall, his legs trembling.

“Are you alright?” Shen An asked cautiously.

Who knew what effect that lake water might have?

“I’m fine, but I don’t think I can go to work tomorrow. I’m completely drained,” Sun Ming said weakly, as if on his last breath.

He lay down, and Shen An felt uneasy. He quietly used his sense of qi to examine Sun Ming’s state, and only relaxed once he was sure there was no serious harm.

Ever since he’d begun practicing the breathing technique, Shen An could sense a current of qi within himself—his whole body was warm and comfortable at all times.

That night, Shen An stepped outside.

He had received a message from his future self, ten years ahead.

“Practicing the breathing method at night yields better results.”

Just those few words.

He found a spot on the rooftop of the apartment complex, somewhere secluded.

On the twelfth floor, he sat cross-legged, breathing in a steady rhythm.

At that moment, primordial oxygen entered his body.

Even without using his devouring ability, Shen An could sense it. Ever since the earthquake, there had been the faintest ripple of primordial oxygen in the air—subtle, but undeniably present.

What Shen An didn’t know was that, as he cultivated, a figure was observing him from nearby.

A woman in a fitted outfit, her silhouette sleek and graceful. Her long hair fell to her waist, bangs just brushing her brows. Standing atop another rooftop, she gazed in his direction.

“The Tiger Breathing Technique—so that’s it. An ancient sect’s breathing method, passed down through the ages. He must have had some fortuitous encounter,” she mused.

She nodded to herself. “But, this breathing technique isn’t quite complete.”

With just a glance, she had identified the name of Shen An’s practice.

If Shen An of the future saw this woman’s face, he would have been astonished. After the great upheaval of the world, she had always been a dazzling figure, her achievements far beyond Shen An’s reach.

After a few minutes, she lost interest in Shen An, shook her head, and vanished—so suddenly it was as if she’d never been there at all.