Zhuge Wanjun tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The more she thought about it, the deeper she realized the waters ran here—far beyond what she could meddle in right now.
She was never on the same wavelength as Glasses to begin with, thinking his methods were too extreme—doomed sooner or later.
But she never expected things to develop ; it was completely beyond her imagination.
She thought over and over again, then got up and went to the basement safe to retrieve two boxes.
On the other side, Wen Yan was also tossing and turning, unable to sleep, restless for no reason, anxious for no reason.
He got up to practice boxing, again and again, tireless; three pieces of Inferior Warm Jade were consumed. It wasn’t until after he once more combined the Guiding Technique and practiced the Scorching Sun Fist that he suddenly felt the Yang Energy in his four limbs, each running its own course, swirling, then all surging into his torso.
Dense Yang Energy naturally flowed and diffused during the practice, constantly washing over and flushing the flesh and blood of his torso.
The consumption was more than ten times that of ordinary boxing practice, allowing the Yang Energy to circulate along the most suitable paths of itself.
After finishing a set of boxing, Wen Yan stood in a stance, still as a statue, not moving at all.
Yang Energy circulated on its own between his limbs and torso, nourishing the body, gradually forming a new cycle.
His perceptions grew increasingly clear. The Scorching Sun Fist’s external skills combined with the Guiding Technique—indeed, the consumption was terrifyingly high. If he didn’t rely on the Scorching Sun, with his current Yang Energy, he’d barely last one set before going weak.
But the benefits were many—the expenditure was more than ten times that of usual boxing, but after freely circulating, every inch of flesh could be nourished.
As long as he could keep paying with Gold, the high consumption wasn’t a real problem.
He seized every moment now, training as if his life depended on it, a genuine sense of urgency. In fact, there was a pressing issue.
His Scorching Sun was only a Temporary Ability, granted to deal with Uncle’s appearance.
According to his experiments and understanding, as long as Uncle was still around, this Temporary Ability would persist.
But the problem was, the Temporary Ability could be replaced when needed.
After replacing it, would it return? Wen Yan hadn’t tried, nor did he dare to experiment randomly.
Now, all he wanted was to seize this opportunity to train, at least to firmly solidify the basics, to turn the Temporary Ability into his own hard strength.
Even if someday, Uncle was no more, and the corresponding Temporary Ability vanished, he’d accept it.
After all, when he first Enlightened Uncle, he’d never imagined he could use Scorching Sun later on.
Precisely because he had no particular demands, his mind pure, his obsessions resonated deeply with Uncle’s, allowing Scorching Sun to achieve the effects seen now—leaving only the instinct in Uncle so that he’d listen to him.
Later, when he used Scorching Sun to Enlighten Ghosts, it was at least several levels lower in difficulty than Enlightening Big Executor Corpse, but the effect could only faintly restore a bit of awareness in the target—the blessed Yang Energy more like a consumable resource.
Only when Enlightening Uncle, a speck of golden light transformed from Yang Energy fell into Uncle’s pupils—and even now, it showed no sign of fading.
Wen Yan experimented, observed, summarized and became convinced: the use and final effects of abilities were directly related to one’s heart, will, and intentions at the time.
Abilities’ effects weren’t constant, and certainly not identical for every person.
He drew in a deep breath, feeling the Yang Energy in his body rushing like a stream; this sensation, he truly craved.
He knew full well, given Uncle’s sliver of Spiritual Intelligence, he had countless ways to keep Uncle with him forever. He could easily exploit a bug.
He could even, one day, once he’d killed Fake Mo Zhicheng and avenged everything, lock this bug down for good.
This was the surest way: keep Scorching Sun, and also have a terrifyingly fast-evolving Big Executor Corpse as a guard.
Unfortunately, knowing was one thing; he still didn’t want to do it. He wanted Uncle to personally kill Fake Mo Zhicheng.
He’d said it: Make the Fake Mo Zhicheng who caused all this tragedy drown in the tragedy he created himself—he was absolutely going to keep his word.
If, come that day, Uncle completed the Big Executor Transformation and totally perished, and his Scorching Sun vanished too, he’d accept it.
No matter what, he couldn’t stoop as low as Fake Mo Zhicheng.
Wen Yan stood in place in his stance, Yang Energy surging around him, his mind full of swirling distractions. In the instant his thoughts cleared, his conviction was set.
Closing his eyes, it felt as though, in his mind, a blazing Scorching Sun slowly rose, illuminating his consciousness, scattering all shadows. Like struggling in darkness and sleep, suddenly the first sunlight rose—at last, he opened his eyes, feeling the morning glow brighten the whole world.
It was a feeling of utter clarity.
Tonight’s inexplicable restlessness and anxiety were all swept away.
The slowly circulating Yang Energy in his limbs and torso was illuminated by the Yang Energy rising in his mind, silently linking into a complete whole.
He stood unmoving, as though basking in sunlight, his whole body relaxing.
Zhang Laoxi stood at a distance, watching a faint glow appear on Wen Yan’s skin, seeing the light glimmer from Wen Yan’s head and pour into his torso—instead of Yang Energy from his limbs and torso surging up to his head.
In his eyes was shock, envy, finally turning to respect. No other thought remained—not even envy, the gap was simply too vast.
The full version of Scorching Sun Fist, First Stage, was the circulation of Yang Energy, surging throughout the entire body. Even with eyes closed, a faint glow would be visible, covering the whole body with no blind spots.