Era of Mist

At twelve o’clock, a security guard came over and knocked on the door. KNOCK KNOCK. He shouted that it was lights out. All the students began packing up in a flurry of activity, and only then did Shi Tiexin raise his head.

He had actually finished the entire workbook.

He let out a long breath, pulling himself out of his focused state of study. Shi Tiexin couldn’t help but close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. Even with his eyes closed, his inner vision still manifested, and it was even clearer than when they were open. A cascade of stars once again flew up from below, and the "Enlightenment" badge took effect as well.

Amidst a CRACKLING sound, the Super Saiyan progress bar went wild again, shooting straight up. Although *Study and Practice in One* had six volumes, it wasn’t a specialized supplementary training manual. This newly finished, ordinary-quality supplementary manual, however, was actually superior to all six of those books combined in terms of both the quantity and difficulty of its problems.

However, going from Good to Excellent was indeed much harder than going from Pass to Good. Even with all the buffs and the bonus from his mysterious enlightenment, the progress bar still failed to reach the end, stopping at around the seventy-percent mark.

This time, finishing the supplementary training manual did provide some extra progress, which was better than nothing. However, it only gave three percentage points. He didn’t know if this was because it lacked the "Study and Practice in One" attribute or because the closer he got to "Excellent," the harder it was for the bar to increase.

The elite class students were efficient. They were focused when they studied and swift when they left; in a flash, they were all gone. Shi Tiexin followed the crowd out of the study hall, found a restroom, and went in to relieve his full bladder. Amidst the SPLASHING, a high-pressure stream WHOOSHED out. Shi Tiexin felt an immediate sense of satisfaction as the pressure in his heart was released.

The ability to smoothly begin cultivating the Heart Techniques and see tangible, significant improvement made him feel much more at ease. The cool sensation in his mind grew noticeably stronger, and the intensity of his psychic energy increased with his cultivation level.

Although he hadn’t managed to reach Excellent today, Shi Tiexin rubbed his temples. ’I should stop here for today.’ His physical stamina and mental focus had both reached their limits. If he forced himself to continue, his efficiency would only drop; it was more practical to go back and get a good night’s sleep. In the future, as his primordial essence accumulated and his psychic energy grew stronger, he would naturally be able to extend his periods of high-efficiency study.

’No need to rush. At this rate, reaching Excellent in the first level of all Six Heart Techniques isn’t a distant goal. At this pace, by the time I’ve accumulated a hundred strands of primordial essence, I’ll definitely have reached Excellent in the first level of all the Heart Techniques—I might even be stronger.’

’This pace is incredible!’

After a final shiver, Shi Tiexin walked out of the academic building feeling completely refreshed. It was midnight, and all was silent. The nightlife in this world seemed to be quite lacking; by this hour, everything near and far had grown quiet, and almost no human voices could be heard. The lights went out one by one, and the illumination on the ground steadily faded.

With a CLICK, all the lights in the academic building behind him went out, plunging the area into complete darkness. Only the large, red characters spelling out "Knowledge Changes Destiny" remained, radiating a crimson glow like an eternal flame. Just then, Shi Tiexin felt a sudden impulse and looked up at the sky.

The weather was perfect tonight; the sky was pristine and completely cloudless. The first thing Shi Tiexin saw was a great, white, jade-like disk hanging high in the sky, radiating a bright, gentle light.

The other students leaving for the night seemed completely used to it, not finding the scene strange at all.

But Shi Tiexin suddenly stopped walking, frozen in place.

’This white, jade-like disk... I feel like I’ve seen it in some documents before...’

He stared blankly at the white disk as a realization seemed to shatter within his mind. There was something the other consciousness had taken for granted, something he himself had assumed was non-existent. The notion was so fundamental and yet so obvious that he hadn’t even registered it until now.

But under the glow of that white disk, Shi Tiexin suddenly realized something. His mouth slowly fell open, his immense shock managing to crack the composure of his normally impassive face.

His gaze shifted, and Shi Tiexin saw glittering points of light against the celestial canopy. They twinkled and sparkled, like countless tiny eyes. The points of light weren’t densely packed, but they were crystal clear, mysterious, and fantastical, holding within them all of humanity’s dreams from ancient times to the present day.

Shi Tiexin was truly, utterly shocked.

He couldn’t help but raise his hand, pointing at the specks of light in the sky. His mouth opened and closed, wanting to say something but not knowing what. In the wake of his immense shock, a thousand thoughts rushed to his lips, creating a logjam. In the end, only a single question managed to break free.

"What... are those?!"

Shi Tiexin was merely expressing his awe; he wasn’t expecting an answer. But just then, a passing student glanced at him, followed his pointed finger, and then said with a haughty expression, "How ignorant. You don’t even know that? That’s Aquarius, the constellation of art and romance."

In the darkness, Shi Tiexin couldn’t make out the student’s face. He could only see him seemingly savoring the moment, as if channeling some artistic brilliance from the Aquarius star cluster. The student walked away, shaking his head and reciting something under his breath. Even in the pitch black, Shi Tiexin could sense the pretentious, artsy-fartsy aura wafting from him.

Shi Tiexin paid him no mind, simply standing there dumbfounded as the words echoed in his thoughts.

’Aquarius?’

’A constellation?’

’Stars?’

’Th-these points of light... Aren’t they some sort of luminescent devices in synchronous orbit? Or maybe they *are* devices, just named after things like constellations?’

’No, no, no. My reason tells me that these points of light, and that white disk, can’t possibly be man-made. This world’s level of science and technology isn’t high—in fact, it’s extremely low. They couldn’t possibly build such a vast and numerous array of artificial light sources.’

Then, only one possibility remained. Combining this with the information projected by the other consciousness, Shi Tiexin stared at the points of light, completely bewildered. ’These... are stars.’

’The stars of legend.’

In his original world, in Tumu Castle, he had never once seen them. This was the starry sky that had long vanished into the annals of history.

Looking up at the sky, Shi Tiexin stood like a statue, frozen on the school grounds. The people around him trickled away until everyone was gone, but he remained standing there silently, completely still. The longer he stared, the more faint stars he discovered that he hadn’t noticed before. The deeper the night grew and the dimmer the lights on the ground became, the more he could feel the profound vastness of the eternal night sky.

Shi Tiexin watched in silence, shaken in silence, and pondered in silence.

After a long time, he finally started walking toward the dorms for the trash class.

In the middle of the night, Zhou Nan was sound asleep when a hand suddenly slammed down on his shoulder. SLAP. He woke up in a panic to the sight of a face that looked especially terrifying in the darkness.