Sitting alone at the dining table, outside the window the sky has completely darkened, with only streetlights and distant residential lights adorning the night.
Fang Cheng quietly eats his al, quickly but not rudely.
The food swiftly converts into energy, filling the void in his body, bringing a solid sense of satisfaction.
After finishing his al, he casually tidies up the kitchen and house, doing so basic chores.
As he wipes clean the last piece of the floor and stands up, familiar panel prompts appear before his eyes:
[Cooking Skill Experience 2]
[Cooking Skill Level 1 (214/250)]
[Cleaning Experience 3]
[Cleaning Level 1 (109/250)]
"Not bad."
Fang Cheng nods slightly, a sense of satisfaction erging in his heart.
Experience in daily life skills is steadily growing, though slow, but better than nothing.
He glances at the wall clock, the ti points to 8:52 PM.
Fang Cheng does not, as usual, take out his dagger to continue practicing Blade Technique or perform Tai Chi Boxing.
As Zhou Xiui ntioned, his spirit indeed appears noticeably exhausted.
Ever since breaking the Golden Benba Bottle at Mist Mountain and absorbing its spirituality, spiritual power has been consud unusually frequently, burdening him sowhat heavily.
Coupled with the intense vigilance of the past two days and the fierce battle with Officer Gao, he feels a weariness arising from the depths of his soul.
Fang Cheng decides to take advantage of tonight’s rare peaceful environnt for a long ditation.
Thinking of this, he quickly locks all doors and windows, draws the curtains, and isolates the outside light and most noise.
Then, Fang Cheng enters the bedroom and sits cross-legged on the bed.
He adjusts his breath, relaxes his body, and his consciousness slowly sinks into the depths of his mind.
Initially, all kinds of external noises rush in like a tide.
The sound of the neighbor’s TV playing, distant street car honks, even the sound of water flowing through pipes...
But as the ditation deepens, these sounds gradually beco distant and blurred, as if through a thick frosted glass.
Until they completely fade away, leaving the consciousness in a deep, eternal silence.
Fang Cheng opens his mind’s eye, "seeing" once again the familiar world of darkness.
The dense fog churns around, devouring all light.
And at the center of the endless darkness, only a stubborn fla quietly burns.
It seems to be an eternal beacon in this Chaotic Space, emitting infinite light and heat, guiding the souls lost in direction.
This is Fang Cheng’s "Spiritual Fire."
Compared to observing it in the unfinished room last ti, the fla now seems to have undergone so subtle changes.
The fla’s main body still maintains the blue and red colors symbolizing his own will.
But within the inner fla, those golden light dots derived from the Golden Benba Bottle’s spirituality seem more active, and their number has vaguely increased.
They are no longer sporadic decorations but are more closely interwoven with the red flas.
Making the whole fla present a brighter yet more unstable orange-red hue.
Every burst of golden light dots causes the fla to leap magnificently, expanding the Light Domain outward.
Simultaneously, it creates a void sensation of energy rapidly being consud.
Fang Cheng carefully observes the anomaly of the Spiritual Fire.
At this mont, those excluded noises and phantoms seem restless, trying to invade the mind like ghosts again.
Chaotic whispers sound at the edge of consciousness, mixed with scattered shadows.
Even more, faint mysterious ancient murmurs reach out from the deep void, containing indescribable temptation and coercion.
The dark Consciousness Space ripples, as if secretly resonating with so unknown mighty presence.
The Spiritual Fire, consequently disturbed, begins to shake violently, causing the soul to tremble.
However, Fang Cheng’s will remains as solid as a rock, his consciousness anchored at the fire’s core.
He silently operates the ditation thod, mobilizing spiritual power to construct a sturdy barrier, repelling all external disturbances and temptations.
Simultaneously, he cautiously controls the flow of True Qi within.
This ti, Fang Cheng does not let the fire’s light penetrate the real world.
Only a faint red light shines at the forehead, and the body rely emits a warm aura, avoiding the embarrassnt of almost self-combusting like last ti in the unfinished room.
This is a difficult confrontation process.
Maintaining the depth of ditation while resisting external invasion and temptation, and controlling the manifestation of one’s own power.
Ti passes, and when those noises and whispers gradually weaken, the shaking of the Spiritual Fire slowly calms down and stabilizes, Fang Cheng finally feels a hint of relief.
A tily flicker of pale blue light appears before his eyes, a series of prompt ssages flow by like water:
[You are absorbing external consciousness, consolidating self-awareness, Spirit increases by 0.001]
[Your degree of integration with so spirituality is gradually improving, Spirit increases by 0.001]
[You practice ditation Skill, experience increases 1]
[Your degree of integration with so spirituality is gradually improving, Spirit increases by 0.001]
.........
Through this ditation practice, as if wrestling with an invisible enemy, the Spiritual Fire not only successfully stabilized but also experienced refinent in the process of resistance and absorption, growing slightly.
Fang Cheng can clearly feel that the spiritual fatigue is completely dispelled, replaced by a fullness akin to being well-fed; Spirit becos more condensed and clear.
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