Chapter 95: The Genuine Benefits of the Heavenly Mandate Task!

After dinner, the night had already fallen, and Shi Tiexin walked up to the seventeenth floor.

In the orphanage, younger children lived on the lower floors while older ones occupied the upper levels. The eighteenth floor remained temporarily empty, making the seventeenth the highest.

Each floor of the building featured an exceptionally large floor area. Beyond the outer ring of rooms that had windows, any quarters arranged inside made no sense to consider living in at all. Whether one could claim a spot in that outer ring depended entirely on one’s reputation in the jianghu.

Big Brother Tie’s room was, naturally, the finest location.

As he moved along, groups of fifteen-year-old boys and girls passed back and forth in clusters. Seeing that Tie Bawang was behaving so obediently, Shi Tiexin now felt heavy-hearted and had no desire to respond.

Soon he reached his own room door. Shi Tiexin paused, turning his head to glance aside. Not far away, several doors stood slightly ajar, and from time to time a girl would slip inside and close the door behind her.

The walls here offered good sound insulation, yet Shi Tiexin needed no listening to know exactly what was taking place within.

These boys and girls had their reasons: some out of impulse, some out of pressure, some out of ignorance, and some out of transaction. Others practiced still more, hoping to find their footing when future trial selections came around and they might finally prove useful.

Incredible?

To understand why, consider the nicknames given to the process of selecting candidates for trial work here. One of the harshest yet not the most appalling was called “pick the strong.” This name disgusted many, yet it rang out loudly. Even some girls had come to accept it as a legitimate path. Every road demanded competition, and those blessed with exceptional natural talent faced no worries. Those whose raw strength fell short had to practice harder if they hoped to succeed.

It was tragic, yet there was no alternative.

The orphanage provided few avenues for escape, and these young people who possessed no special skills truly had few options. This society was no stranger to excess population; every position competed for and was precious. Little children might ignore such realities, but fifteen-year-old boys and girls carried the crushing weight of survival.

Helplessly, some began to entertain undignified solutions.

Heh, dignity?

Shi Tiexin let out a soft laugh. What was dignity or lack of it? Merely staying alive was the greatest dignity of all. These children never bothered with such abstractions. Lacking any opportunity for education, how could they possibly chase what dignity, what future, what dreams might mean?

Picking the strong was always better than heading to the waste-dust factory to burn one’s life away.

And he himself would soon have to break free from this environment, fighting to carve out a brand-new world. The first threshold of such a dragon-fish transformation was the small country exam.

How, exactly, was one supposed to pass that exam?

Shi Tiexin opened the door and stepped into his bedroom. It contained one bathroom, one bedroom, and one balcony—accommodation far superior to anything at Fengming No.1 Middle School. Of course, compared with the larger world outside, it remained quite poor.

Beyond the large windows the night pressed heavy and dark.

The streets of Muyuan District blazed with scattered lights, yet when one looked upward there were no stars—never had been. Shi Tiexin suddenly missed the crystal, mysterious canopy of stars above.

He left the lights off. Standing in darkness he thought for a long moment, then removed his clothes and took a shower. The lukewarm water ran over his skin, and broad patches of lingering blue-purple marks remained visible across his broad back. Some ached, some felt cold, yet Shi Tiexin had no wish to complain.

To have a private bathroom and the ability to bathe with running water was already master-level treatment.

Tomorrow he still had to report to work early. The bald man was right: one must become famous overnight.

In a few days he would still need to repay his debts. The tall female nurse sister was also correct—if he could not pay them back, his skull would be smashed to pieces.

In just a few more days the small country exam qualification review would begin. He himself spoke the truer words: whether he ate or ate shit in the future depended entirely on this single gamble.

So… it was better to sleep first.

Regain one’s strength and face the coming challenge.

Lying in bed, Shi Tiexin slowly calmed the turbulent surge of his heart. Before long he sank into deep sleep. Within that hazy slumber the depths of his consciousness seemed to reawaken that same image.

Two parallel world lines, two bright spots one in front of the other. A faint, subtle thread of light stretched from the glowing point that represented the top scholar stone to the glowing point that represented Shi Tiexin’s true self. The line flickered in and out, expanding and contracting like a breath, as if carrying some ineffable message.

And in his sleep Shi Tiexin began to dream.

He rarely dreamed, usually sleeping straight through the night until dawn. His high sleep quality and thorough rest meant that every new day arrived brimming with spirit and vitality.

But this day he dreamed.

He dreamed he had become a junior high school student, studying every subject in the dream. He read textbooks page after page, worked practice problems and test papers set after set, listened attentively lesson after lesson. He dreamed of discussing questions with other equally excellent classmates to overcome difficult points. He dreamed of consulting teachers, answering questions, deepening his grasp of certain subjects.

Dreams were always chaotic and vague; no matter what occurred within them it was nearly impossible to examine every detail.

Yet this dream was different—very different.

Every detail in this dream stood out with crystal clarity, vivid and distinct. The dream felt so real, as though he had truly studied with such diligence. Shi Tiexin could see every word on the pages of the books, could recall every question he had solved, could remember every step of the solution.

It was not even like a dream, but rather the use of dream as a vessel to release memories from his past lives and the knowledge he had long stored yet remained sealed.

In his sleep Shi Tiexin, half-dreaming, suddenly understood. He turned over in bed and mumbled a few words: “Top scholar stone… bring points…”

The next day Shi Tiexin woke at an unusually early hour. After rising he glanced at his watch and saw it was still before six.

On one hand he seemed to have brought the schedule habits from Fengming No.1 Middle School back with him. On the other he felt he could not possibly sleep again—not the tired, restless kind, but a complete replenishment of energy, the perfect satisfaction of sleeping until one woke naturally. Only his natural wake-up came a bit early, yet it changed nothing about his vitality.

A single carp flip sent him from the bed to the floor. Even Shi Tiexin was surprised by his own state.

“How is my energy so full today?” According to reason his injuries should not have healed yet, so he should not feel this energetic. But speaking of injuries… Shi Tiexin performed some body-rotation exercises and suddenly realized the wounds on his body had grown far lighter.

His waist no longer hurt. His back no longer hurt. Even the back of his neck felt much better. Yesterday a single twist of the head had sent pain shooting through him like needles; today the pain had eased considerably.

What was happening here?

Why did it always feel as though both his recovery speed and his body’s healing speed had suddenly jumped an entire notch?