"How many credits are you lacking, senior?" Flower Shirong asked.
"Three hundred points!" The old man shook his head. "It's rare to see someone like you. Are all the current students this lazy?"
Flower Shirong was also frustrated. I don't want this either. It's all the previous person's fault.
"Let's go, to the solitary confinement room."
The old man led Flower Shirong towards the courtyard.
The courtyard was pitch black, overgrown with weeds. It seemed that no one had taken care of it for many years. The old man criticized others for being lazy, but he wasn't any different himself.
Amidst the thicket of weeds, a path paved with green stones extended through the vegetation.
"What's happening this year? Why are there so many troublemakers! Are the kids nowadays hard to discipline?"
The old man muttered as he walked.
"Senior, is the confinement room overcrowded now?"
Flower Shirong became interested; at least he wouldn't be lonely.
"This month, we've had three people confined, all for causing harm. Both the advanced and low-level divisions are included. The youngest is only eight years old, and the longest confinement is six months." The old man didn't mind explaining in detail.
To Flower Shirong's surprise, there were others who had been confined for even longer. He felt delighted.
"Senior, who are these people? Could they all be children from poor families like me, who were forced and pushed to their limits before retaliating?"
Flower Shirong glanced back at the old man after speaking, but his expression was full of mockery.
"Not necessarily. The person in the 'A' room, Lan Shihai, comes from a prestigious family. It is said that his father holds a position in the military. This troublemaker has a quick temper and starts fights at the slightest provocation. He's a regular here. This time, he beat up a fellow student of the same level, leaving him coughing up blood and nearly killing him."
"Such habitual offenders should be severely punished! It's just a sparring session, how can they go so far as to kill?" Flower Shirong agreed.
"You're not much different. You draw your sword at the slightest disagreement, and I haven't seen you show any mercy in your attacks."
The old man had a poor impression of Flower Shirong, leaving him speechless with his banter.
There were a total of five confinement rooms in the courtyard, all low, flat houses. The walls were marked with letters such as 'A,' 'B,' 'C' to differentiate them, spaced about a dozen yards apart.
Arriving at the T-shaped building, Flower Shirong leaned his emblem against the door. With a "beep" sound, the dark iron door opened, and a nauseating stench greeted him.
Instinctively, Flower Shirong took a step back and furrowed his brow.
However, the old man extended his hand and gave Flower Shirong a push on the back. Caught off guard, Flower Shirong fell to the ground, and behind him, the iron door slammed shut with a clang.
Inside the solitary confinement room, it was pitch black, impossible to see anything. A strong unpleasant odor filled the air. Flower Shirong forced himself to get up and held his breath.
Was this the environment he would have to face for the next two months?
Once adapted to the darkness within the room, he could gradually make out everything. After all these years of cultivation, his vision was extraordinary.
The solitary confinement room was about ten square meters, completely sealed. At the top of the southwest wall, there was a fist-sized ventilation hole, allowing a faint light to enter. Flower Shirong thought that the purpose of this ventilation hole was to prevent suffocation.
The floor was damp, and the room was filled with an overpowering stench, especially in one corner where a pile of debris lay.
Flower Shirong furrowed his brow. He couldn't sit or lie down. Was he supposed to stand like this for two months?
He wondered how the previous occupants had spent this time. It seemed that he had to adapt as well.
Flower Shirong was no longer the same Flower Shirong.
Years of struggling alone in the city, living in a basement that could only accommodate a bed, had already shaped his independent character to face any difficulties.
In the face of arduous life, frugality was the rule. The working-class individuals in the bottom rung of the city knew this well.
He had once fantasized about living in a luxurious mansion, drinking red wine, gazing down from above at the dazzling neon lights at night, with a beautiful woman cuddling up to him. What more could one desire in life?
But reality was harsh.
Competition was fierce. Even a diploma from a prestigious university wasn't enough to secure a job. Lowering his life goals repeatedly, he had finally found a job, but the exorbitant cost of living in the city confined him to a three-square-meter basement.
If he hadn't let go of his pride back then, he would have slinked away from the city in defeat. In the end, he chose to persevere.
Compared to his previous choices, the current problem was insignificant.
Wasn't it just endurance?
Was there anything more unbearable than dying and being reborn?
Once he grasped this concept, Flower Shirong's mood brightened, and the problem was no longer a problem.
Once his state of mind relaxed, nothing in the room stirred any waves in Flower Shirong's heart. At this moment, he pondered how to make the best use of these two months of idle time.
He couldn't let himself give up and waste time just because he was in solitary confinement.
Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Flower Shirong sat on the damp ground, folding his hands on his abdomen, and began practicing the "Mortal Technique."
Since his rebirth, until this moment, that sense of unease in his heart had finally settled.
In essence, Flower Shirong, after waking up, had been constantly overwhelmed by the shock brought about by the time travel, and understanding, adapting, and accepting all took a process.
The unfamiliar continent, unfamiliar environment, unfamiliar behaviors—no matter how strong Flower Shirong's heart had been for over thirty years, he was still immensely shocked.
Therefore, his first reaction was to understand this world, to comprehend everything here, even the smallest details of behavior.
Once he truly understood, and the inner tension and astonishment subsided, what remained was excitement.
He had entered a continent where martial artists roamed, a world that pursued strength exhaustively, ingrained in its very core.
No wonder the air here was so fresh and invigorating. No wonder his cultivation of the "Mortal Technique," which had yielded no results over ten years on Earth, could induce the miraculous phenomenon of "Qi surging through meridians."
This continent was truly extraordinary!
Flower Shirong was unsure of the power of the "Mortal Technique" or its classification in this mystical continent. However, the effect of cultivating it was remarkably apparent.
Once activated, the surrounding spiritual energy surged towards him like tides.
Even in the oppressive and polluted air of the confinement room, once Flower Shirong initiated the "Mortal Technique," fresh spiritual energy would flow in through the ventilation hole, the gaps in the door, and the cracks in the walls, gathering above Flower Shirong's head.
And the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, guided by Flower Shirong, slowly entered his body, transforming into the internal energy he needed.
Although Flower Shirong possessed the body of a fourteen-year-old, his mind was that of an adult in his thirties. Since he understood the larger environment he was in, as well as the harshness of his immediate surroundings, he naturally aspired to change.
The first thing he needed to change was his near-worthless body and his lack of ambition.
In the memories of the former "Flower Shirong," indulging in food, drink, and pleasure, and being lazy, was the norm. The most direct consequence was that among the same-aged offspring of the family, his cultivation level was the lowest without exception. Even the slightly stronger Flower Shicong, who was also considered worthless, surpassed him.
Moreover, even some younger offspring of the family had surpassed his level. Among the family's offspring, he had faced numerous disdainful glances and mockery.
"Since I've taken over your body, I can't let your original nature prevail. I will make your body stronger so that we can leave Yishui Town and head to Phoenix City, and even larger cities, even the entire Phoenix Cry Continent."
Flower Shirong couldn't tolerate the limited time ahead, being wasted once again.
In less than two years, the group of boys, nearly sixteen years old, would face the assessment of Phoenix Academy.
If they wanted to reach greater heights and go further, they had to enroll in Phoenix Academy for further studies.
It was the lifelong dream of every martial artist and the best and most ideal path.
Given Flower Shirong's current level and strength, constantly yearning to enter Phoenix Academy was unrealistic; the gap was too vast.
What Flower Shirong needed to do now was to utilize these two years to improve his cultivation level and combat strength as much as possible. Even if he ultimately couldn't enter Phoenix Academy as he wished, he would still make himself powerful and secure a place within the family.
As the "Mortal Technique" ran, Flower Shirong could feel the expansion of his internal energy, as if it were about to burst out of his body.
Flower Shirong furrowed his brows; this feeling was uncomfortable.
His body felt like an inflated ball, swollen and taut, reaching its critical point, ready to explode, yet the gas kept inflating.
Having experienced the phenomenon of "Qi surging through meridians" before, Flower Shirong wasn't particularly afraid.
However, the more internal energy he assimilated, the more uncomfortable his body became. He didn't know when it would end. At this moment, his entire body was covered in sweat, his clothes soaked through.
Just when Flower Shirong could no longer bear the pain of the swelling, as it was about to burst, he heard a "pop" sound in his ears. The unrestrained internal energy broke through a barrier, found an outlet, and quickly surged out, instantly dissipating the sensation of inflation.
This feeling spread throughout his body like an electric shock, smooth, serene, and pleasant. It was indescribably satisfying.
A breakthrough!
From the fourth level of the Martial Novice realm to the fifth level.
It was truly not easy, and it had been so uncomfortable.
Flower Shirong took a long breath, but before he could feel excited, three pieces of information suddenly flashed through his mind: Freshening Technique, Fireball Technique, and Thunderstrike Technique.
What are these?
Flower Shirong paused for a moment and then proceeded to read the three pieces of information.
With an understanding of the three techniques, Flower Shirong's heart was filled with immense joy.
Freshening Technique: A foundational Qi cultivation spell, accessible at three levels. By using the true Qi within the body as a catalyst and performing the appropriate gestures, it can freshen the surrounding air within a few feet. It is non-attack oriented, with nine levels of proficiency.
Thunderstrike Technique: A foundational Qi cultivation spell, accessible at four levels. By using the true Qi within the body as a catalyst and performing the appropriate gestures, it possesses an attack capability, with nine levels of proficiency.
Fireball Technique: A foundational Qi cultivation spell, accessible at five levels. By using the true Qi within the body as a catalyst and performing the appropriate gestures, it possesses an attack capability, with nine levels of proficiency.
Magic?
Shouldn't it be martial techniques? Flower Shirong was puzzled and couldn't understand.
True Qi...
Is it the "True Qi" mentioned in cultivation novels? Could it be that the Nine Continent is a cultivation continent? Flower Shirong's imagination ran wild.
As the cultivation methods of the three techniques were stored in his mind, Flower Shirong didn't need to remember them. With just a thought, they appeared in his mind.
Flower Shirong silently recited the essentials of the Fireball Technique, using internal energy as guidance. He didn't know what true Qi was, but since he had internal energy within his body, he substituted it for true Qi.
Following the method of the Fireball Technique, a small orange fireball, the size of a thumb, materialized out of thin air between his right fingertips.
Success!
Flower Shirong could feel the temperature of the fireball, but his fingers didn't experience a burning sensation.
After thinking for a moment, Flower Shirong casually threw the orange fireball. As soon as it left his hand, it immediately extinguished, resembling a shooting star streaking across the night, leaving behind a beautiful arc before disappearing without a trace.
Wasn't it said to have an attack capability?
How can it be an attack if it extinguishes upon leaving the hand?
Flower Shirong felt frustrated. Carefully re-reading the information, he finally found the reason: the Fireball Technique required the proper "gestures" to be effective.
Indeed, Flower Shirong found the so-called "gestures," which consisted of a specific chant accompanied by a complex hand movement.
While silently reciting the chant, performing the corresponding hand movement would generate a mysterious "force." This "force" enveloped the fireball, allowing it to remain ignited and possess a certain power when flying outward.
In this way, it would possess an attack capability.