Can a depth of just over twenty meters truly be called the seafloor?

After solving the problem of carrying weight underwater, Chen Jue placed the stone sphere in the villa’s living room before heading upstairs to rest. Though he had practiced his boxing stances and forms on the seabed for just over ten minutes, the physical exhaustion and mental tempering he experienced far surpassed anything he’d felt at Chen Village Reservoir. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gained such a large number of free attribute points in such a short time.

“Danger and opportunity always go hand in hand!” This was the insight Chen Jue took away from his night of training beneath the sea.

Lying in bed, listening to the howling wind and the faint sound of waves outside his window, Chen Jue picked up his phone and decided to browse the forum. Ever since he posted the video demonstrating his hidden force technique, he hadn’t checked the forum for several days. The moment he logged in, he was stunned. His original Level 3 “newbie” rank had skyrocketed to Level 8! His private messages, post comments, and friend requests had all surpassed 999+, leaving him momentarily dumbfounded.

“Seriously?” he muttered. “It was just a video of a forceful punch—does it really warrant all this fuss?” Flipping through the comments, he noticed many people praising his special effects and Photoshop skills.

Chen Jue was bewildered. How could a straightforward video of internal force be mistaken for a fake? “Are these forum experts being sarcastic?” he wondered. He simply couldn’t grasp the tone of these seasoned forum-goers; with new memes constantly popping up, some jokes could go viral for no apparent reason. If you didn’t look them up, you might not even know what they meant.

As for friend requests, Chen Jue didn’t accept a single one. There were just too many, and he didn’t want the hassle. He didn’t bother reading any private messages either—he simply selected them all and cleared them, restoring peace to his world.

“The waters of the forum run too deep. Better to quietly lurk and stay a low-profile newbie,” Chen Jue thought. After browsing for a while, on a whim he looked up a documentary about the underwater world. The villa’s room was equipped with a projector, which could stream wirelessly. Reclining in bed, he spent over an hour marveling at the mysteries beneath the sea, then reflected that the short distance he’d dived probably didn’t even count as the “seabed.” Twenty or thirty meters deep was at best “underwater”—perhaps only when his body grew stronger and he could walk farther and deeper below, diving hundreds or thousands of meters to train, would he be worthy of calling it the “seabed.”

He rose early the next day, when the horizon was still faintly aglow. Chen Jue carried the heavy stone sphere to the rocky cliffs behind the villa. With most tourists still asleep, he took advantage of the solitude, changed into swim trunks and goggles, then leapt into the sea with the stone in his arms.

Well-rested, his energy was fully restored. Sinking to the bottom, he used the stone’s weight to sense the underwater currents and began practicing Tai Chi and the Thirteen Stance Forms. Little did Chen Jue know, ancient Daoist practitioners would smelt lead and mercury into elixirs, consume them, and then practice their forms. While this stone sphere wasn’t a pill of lead and mercury, it resonated deeply with Daoist intent. The incredible weight forced him to cradle it as if it were a newborn, cautiously mindful of the undercurrents—one misstep and he might lose his grip. If he dropped the stone and couldn’t find it, there weren’t many more like it behind the villa.

After about twenty minutes of this astonishing practice, he earned a remarkable 0.21 free attribute points. Feeling his strength flagging, Chen Jue hauled himself and the stone back onto the rocks. Still riding the surge of energy, he jogged briskly back to the villa, grateful not to have encountered anyone on the way. He showered off, only then noticing several bleeding cuts on his feet—he hadn’t realized it when coming ashore, but the soap stung as soon as it touched the wounds. The stone’s weight, combined with a sharp rock on the seabed, had evidently left its mark.

“Level 2 Iron Shirt isn’t cutting it anymore,” he thought. “Maybe I should level it up today.” Glancing at his attribute panel, he saw he’d accumulated 0.51 free points—enough to upgrade his Shaolin Iron Shirt by a level. He was also curious whether the Iron Shirt, like the Twelve Forms of Muscle/Tendon Change, would reach perfection at Level 3, or if it could be further improved like Tai Chi.

This was a skill that boosted defense, resistance to strikes, and recovery—a true hard technique, with many benefits, not least of which was withstanding deeper water pressure. “With so many free points, I could just add them to the main stats,” he mused.

But recalling how efficient training was on the seabed—the attributes came so quickly—he wasn’t worried about spending them. Remembering the transformative effect when he perfected the Muscle/Tendon Change, he decided to push the Shaolin Iron Shirt to the next level first! The only concern was that, without any supplements on hand, the strong siphoning effect after leveling up might leave his body depleted, so he decided to wait a bit.

As sunlight brightened the sky, Chen Jue rested until eight, then changed clothes and left the house. He took a cab into town and found a noodle shop, ordering a large bowl of thick noodles topped with tofu fish, pickled vegetables, a fried egg, greens, and dried shrimp, with a tender piece of braised pork rib on top—a luxurious meal. After the strenuous underwater training, he devoured the hearty breakfast.

While eating, he searched for nearby herbal medicine shops. To his surprise, the county even had a branch of Leaf Apothecary. Then again, with a population of over one hundred thousand, a traditional medicine franchise was hardly shocking. The place was close by—this was a small town, after all—so he decided to walk there and explore the island city’s streets.

He arrived at Leaf Apothecary just as it opened at nine. Without bothering to inquire about the Shaolin Power Pills—those would take at least three days to prepare—he ordered thirty doses of the Tenfold Tonic Decoction, saying he intended to drink it gradually over the year. The clerk asked no questions, took his payment, and went to prepare the prescriptions.

After half an hour, the clerk returned with two bundles of oil-paper-wrapped medicine packets, tied with hemp string—just thirty in all. The clerk divided them into two large paper bags, and Chen Jue paid and left, planning to brew the medicine as soon as he returned, and finally upgrade his Shaolin Iron Shirt.