The illusion shattered like a broken mirror, bursting apart with a deafening crash.
"Tap, tap, tap..." Fang Qingze stumbled backward uncontrollably, his slippers slamming heavily against the tiled floor before crashing hard against the washbasin.
Disregarding the searing pain in his legs, Fang Qingze raised his head to look in the mirror. The face looking back was pale, stark naked, and somewhat lean with no prominent musculature, his chest heaving with ragged, desperate breaths.
Droplets of water trickled down his damp hair onto the washbasin. His pupils were laced with red, and the shock had yet to fade.
Was it a dream?
The crimson space, the spherical flame, and the strange black blade...
Yet, who falls asleep and dreams the moment they close their eyes in the shower? Even the notoriously heavy sleepers in the back row of the classroom couldn't pull that off, could they?
Besides, the instant the flame-wreathed black blade pierced his forehead, the sensation of death was far too vivid. It wasn't just the illusion that shattered; it was the entire world in Fang Qingze's eyes. In that moment, the world plunged into pitch blackness, plummeting into the Abyss without a single speck of light.
"Wait!" Fang Qingze snapped to his senses. If both the flame and the black blade had pierced his glabella, then shouldn't they be inside his body?
He closed his eyes. Sure enough, when he focused his mind on the flame and the black blade, he could see a crimson space within his lower abdomen, where the flame and the black blade floated in stillness.
The showerhead was still running, water pattering against the tiled floor. Fang Qingze swallowed hard.
"Bizarre..."
***
A day passed quickly, and neither the flame nor the black blade showed any anomalies.
He washed up and went to bed promptly at ten-thirty, though Fang Qingze's mind was a tangle of complicated thoughts and he didn't fall asleep until very late.
Right at midnight, the flame residing in Fang Qingze's lower abdomen surged in rhythm with his heartbeat, repeatedly "erupting" from his lower abdomen to wash over his entire body.
The excruciating pain shattered Fang Qingze's peaceful sleep, instantly banishing all drowsiness. The burning agony didn't just stem from his physical body; it originated from the depths of his soul. Every single cell in his body felt as though it were being bitten by swarms of insects, or carved apart by a thousand knives—a tormenting mix of intense itching and searing pain.
He tossed and turned throughout the night. The soft bedding felt as hard as stone and jagged as blades, inflicting unceasing torture that left him unable to sleep and with nowhere to find relief.
He groaned in a low voice until six in the morning. Six long hours of dual physical and mental torment left him utterly exhausted and in agony.
Fang Qingze lay sprawled in a star shape across the bedding, gasping heavily. He failed to realize that despite wearing no blankets and having the air conditioner turned off, he felt not a shred of chill in the room, even though the temperature was barely over ten degrees Celsius.
The exact moment the agony ceased, every cell in his body began to burst with vitality, feeling as refreshing as a spring of pure water trickling through his heart and as gentle as a spring breeze brushing across his face.
Both body and soul felt thoroughly emptied, and the exhaustion of a sleepless night was completely swept away.
"Is... is this the so-called body tempering? Is there really immortal cultivation in this world? Or rather, Transcendents?" Fang Qingze sat up on the edge of the bed, clenching his fist to feel the strength in his body. In all his dozen-odd years of life, he had never experienced a sensation like this.
He thought of the viral videos and trending posts circulating online in the past: skin turning to stone, people flying without the aid of any tools, manipulation of lightning...
Yet most of those videos and posts had inexplicably vanished, leaving no trace behind.
In the past, Fang Qingze would have thought anyone who believed such nonsense was a complete fool, but now, the events unfolding within his own body told him that things weren't nearly that simple.
For now, he temporarily set aside the idea of investigating further. Even if Transcendents truly existed, it didn't necessarily change much—after all, the world was still ultimately controlled by the heavyweights of the Federation.
After a night of tempering by the flames, Fang Qingze was drenched in evaporated sweat, feeling sticky and grimy. Possessing a mild case of germophobia, he hurriedly got up and headed for the bathroom.
However, an unexpected accident occurred. As he pushed open the bathroom door, the glass door was actually torn right off its hinges by his pull. He stood there dumbfounded, turning his head to look at the mounting points; both aluminum-alloy hinges connected to the door frame had snapped clean off, leaving the latch hanging uselessly from the door panel.
The bathroom door came away entirely in Fang Qingze's hand. Gripping the door handle, he could barely feel the weight of the twenty-odd-kilogram aluminum-alloy glass door, as if he were merely holding a book.
The discrepancy in weight made the world feel somewhat unreal, like a dream. He took a deep breath and gently set the door panel down, terrified that the slightest excess of force would shatter the glass—after all, his strength right now was absurdly terrifying.
He was going to have to find someone to fix the door. Was this going to cost him dozens or even a hundred New Dollars?! Fang Qingze felt a twinge of toothache, though he didn't dare grit his teeth for fear that his immense strength might shatter them as well.
From that day onward, the flames began to scorch his body every single night, continuing without interruption for two and a half months.
Fortunately, the pain wasn't entirely static; the effects of the body tempering gradually weakened, and the itching and agony diminished day by day.
By the tenth day, he was able to fall asleep naturally—the first time he had managed a normal night's sleep since his fifteenth birthday.
On the seventy-seventh day, while the nightly flames were still tempering his body, the agonizing discomfort of the burning sensation vanished completely.
His physical fitness had undergone a colossal enhancement. Fang Qingze couldn't even begin to imagine just how formidable his physique had become, though fortunately, he had already gained complete mastery over his drastically altered body.
Time rolled around to the morning of January 3rd. Fang Qingze stood in front of the bathroom mirror wearing only a pair of briefs, examining his reflection.
Compared to two and a half months ago, he had grown considerably more robust. While he hadn't reached the point of bulging, knotted muscles, the lines of his physique were smooth and fluid, exuding a powerful charm, with a distinct six-pack clearly visible across his abdomen.
Only the two half-finger-length scars on his ribs and chest marred the aesthetic.
"Two stars, worst review," Fang Qingze clicked his tongue. "This flame body tempering is truly garbage; why didn't it get rid of my scars?"
Touching the longer scar near his ribs, Fang Qingze frowned. That scar was seven or eight years old, and logically speaking, it should have stopped hurting long ago. Yet the moment he made contact, a faint, stabbing pain and a wave of suppressed emotions inexplicably surged up within him.
"What am I even thinking about?" Exhaling a breath, Fang Qingze cupped some water in his hands and washed his face clean.
***
The subway carriage was buzzing with even louder chatter than usual, with many people discussing the explosion at Shengxian Pavilion.
According to the latest police bulletin: An explosion occurred in Room "1001" at Shengxian Pavilion. The bomb had been planted beneath the bed, resulting in one fatality and one injury. The deceased was a middle-aged male, obese in build, and a high-ranking executive at a certain corporation.
Part of the deceased's corpse was charred black, while his valuables and clothing remained completely undamaged. The only thing missing was his head. Upon inspecting the body, police discovered that the neck had been severed in an instant by a sharp weapon with a clean cut, determining the cause of death to be homicide, and noting that the perpetrator possessed immense physical strength.
The injured party was a young woman who shared a superior-subordinate relationship with the deceased. She had been unconscious when rescued and had yet to wake up.
When the young woman was rescued, she was lying stark naked beneath the middle-aged man. Curiously, whether due to insufficient explosive power or some other reason, the blast had only charred parts of the dead man's body without harming her in the slightest.
Netizens, however, didn't care who the victim was. Almost everyone in the comment sections was asking about the mysterious man in black who had jumped from the building and escaped through a "portal," a matter to which police had given no response.
After glancing at it for a couple of seconds, Fang Qingze lost interest.
He resumed his habitual deadpan expression, silently watching the dynamic advertisements scrolling past in the subway tunnel as he waited quietly for the train to reach its destination.
Several stops later, Fang Qingze got off at Xiushui Square, swiped his card to exit the station, and ended up failing to secure a seat all the way through.
Those goddamned old fogies sprinting all the way to a discounted supermarket for a clearance sale—lunging onto the train like they'd never ridden public transit in their lives. I honestly give up.
What? That supermarket had a fifty-percent-off sale? Alright, my bad, I spoke too soon...
Come to think of it, the cat food at home was running low again. Passing by the cat-shaped coin-operated ride near the entrance of the plaza, Fang Qingze suddenly remembered.
"Hello there." Fang Qingze waved to summon a supermarket sales associate.
"Hello, handsome! Is there anything I can help you with?" The sales clerk was a young woman whose eyes lit up when she caught sight of Fang Qingze; he possessed a tall, sturdy build and an exceptionally handsome face.
As for his world-weary gaze, in the salesclerk's eyes, it merely lent him an aura of cool detachment.
"How much is this?" Fang Qingze pointed to a bag of cat food in his hand, the blue-and-white packaging emblazoned with the words: *Love you, so I'll give you the best~*
Sporting a professional smile, the young salesclerk took the bag of cat food and began her pitch: "You certainly have a good eye, handsome! This is a brand-new import our supermarket just brought in..."
Fang Qingze listened with a blank expression, catching only a few key phrases: 90% fresh meat, air-dried, three catties, 998 New Dollars...
Wait a minute!
"How much?!"
Fang Qingze's eyes widened, his voice cracking in disbelief.
"Handsome, this cat food is made from real fresh meat, containing pork, rabbit, and fish. It's 998 for three catties, oh, and with our new product discount today, it's only 948." The young salesclerk's smile remained unchanged, though in Fang Qingze's eyes, she looked like a demon.
The corners of Fang Qingze's mouth twitched. What kind of godforsaken cat food cost nearly 333 New Dollars per catty? Was this cat food made of gold? Or was the packaging made of gold? A whole catty of rice only cost 4.98 New Dollars!
According to this salesclerk, the cat food was made of actual meat. Damn it, even he could only afford to eat synthetic protein meat himself!
He recalled how every morning when he headed out, Xiaoliu would sit by the doorway, tilting its head to see him off, and how every evening when he came home, Xiaoliu would be the first to sprint over to greet him, rubbing its head and neck against Fang Qingze's trouser legs to beg for "affection."
Fang Qingze decisively snatched the bag of cat food right out of the salesclerk's hands, placed it back on the shelf, swept his gaze across the display, and smoothly picked up another bag labeled "Baked Food," handing it directly to the salesclerk in one fluid motion.
"Could you tell me about this one? My cat isn't used to eating such fancy stuff." Fang Qingze forced a bright, cheerful smile onto his face.
Don't even mention waiting for me behind the door every day; even if you ran downstairs to wait for me, or even if you ran all the way to the subway station entrance every day, there's no way I'm buying you this kind of cat food.
The salesclerk was momentarily stunned by his flurry of actions, but she quickly recovered and patiently began introducing the product to Fang Qingze.
She didn't mock him. On the contrary, realizing the price was too steep and putting the item back was the normal choice for a rational person. She had often seen customers ask the price of items, and despite wearing a look of sheer financial agony, stubbornly insist on paying anyway just to put on airs. She found that behavior genuinely ridiculous.
"Handsome, would you like me to introduce this one instead?"
Fang Qingze took the bag, looked it over, and shook his head. "No need, I'll take the one I just grabbed."
The first one the salesclerk had handed him was a bag of puffed kibble, which Fang Qingze had resolutely passed on. Puffed kibble lacked proper nutrition and easily made cats fat.
In the end, Fang Qingze bought a bag of baked cat food for 98 New Dollars for a three-catty bag, which even came with three cans of wet cat food—enough to last over half a month.
Liuzi, you usually eat about the same grade as this; I didn't buy you the absolute cheapest puffed kibble, so I suppose I'm not shortchanging you.