He stared at the iron sword before him, his face flushed crimson, and shouted at the top of his lungs, word by word:
"RISE!"
The shout drained every last ounce of strength from Chen Mo's body. His legs buckled, and he collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving violently as he gasped for air. The iron sword remained firmly planted in the dirt, not even quivering — as if silently mocking his overreach.
"Dammit…"
Chen Mo wiped sweat from his forehead, frustration and anxiety boiling inside him. He had memorized the Sword Control Art's circulation route perfectly. Every meridian, every breath, every flow of warm energy followed the skill description to the letter — yet the sword wouldn't budge.
Skills in this game were no flashy, one-click auto-casts. They required precise guidance of inner warmth, posture adjustment, and force control, down to the tiniest detail. One wrong move, and the skill failed completely.
Just as he was about to give up, a pale-blue prompt echoed in his mind:
[Detected sustained precise activation of Sword Control Art. Core mental technique — Sword Profound Heart — automatically unlocked]
[Sword Profound Heart: Exclusive basic mental technique for Immortal Swordsmen. Stabilizes inner warm energy flow and enhances precision of all sword skills]
A gentle but powerful warm current surged through his meridians in an instant. The aching, numb limbs relaxed at once, and his mind cleared sharply. Chen Mo's eyes blazed. He seized the rare change, refocused, and followed the Sword Control Art instructions with utter care.
He sat cross-legged, formed the sword gestures shown in the skill guide, slowed his breathing to match the energy flow, and drew warmth from his dantian. He channeled it along his arm meridians, pouring it precisely into the iron sword.
No shouting, no reckless force. Every movement, every circulation, locked strictly to the written guide.
Moments later, Chen Mo's gaze focused. He looked at the sword and whispered one word:
"Rise."
Hum —
A faint tremor ran through the blade.
The utterly ordinary iron sword finally shifted loose from the dirt, then slowly lifted, hovering half a foot above the ground, wavering unsteadily.
It bobbed up and down like a drunkard struggling to stand, ready to crash back down at any moment.
Even so, Chen Mo trembled with excitement.
This was no handout effect from the system, no one-click skill. This was real power — earned by training step by step, exactly as the game guide instructed!
"I did it… I actually did it!"
He didn't dare slack off. He kept practicing control, following the Sword Control Art to the letter:
"Descend… Rise… Left… Right… Steady…"
The sword wobbled clumsily under his command, bouncing off tree trunks, nearly falling several times. But Chen Mo grew more absorbed. He knew every bit of proficiency in this game came only from genuine, rule-abiding training.
After half an hour, most of his stamina was gone, and hunger gnawed at him — this game even simulated hunger, requiring food to restore condition. He gripped his sword and headed for the monster spawn area, planning to hunt while refining his Sword Control Art.
Three wild dogs charged at him. Chen Mo didn't rush to clash head-on.
He held his basic blocking stance while quietly channeling warm energy, trying to command the sword with the art.
But the blade still shook wildly, aim was terrible, and he missed repeatedly, forced back by the dogs.
"My control is still too weak. I have to train the three strengths — steady, accurate, soft — exactly as the guide says."
Chen Mo calmed down, abandoning speed to focus on every detail in the instructions. Block, adjust breath, channel warmth, control force, thrust… every move followed the manual perfectly.
He wore the dogs down little by little, no shortcuts, no quick kills — only solid skill and endurance.
From then on, he cleared monsters, took small quests like catching rats in farmlands and gathering plantain herbs, and drilled Sword Control Art precision relentlessly. Every energy flow, every blade balance, followed the guide without deviation.
Before he knew it, the sky in-game paled to dawn.
Just as Chen Mo prepared for another round, a server-wide announcement blared:
[Server shutting down in 10 minutes]
[Daily playtime fixed: 18:00 – 06:00, 12 hours per day. Forced logout after timeout. Please manage your time wisely]
Chen Mo paused, suddenly understanding.
The game wasn't 24/7. It only opened at night, 12 real hours equal to four in-game days.
He checked his status: Sword Control Art barely beginner, Sword Profound Heart stable, sword control still clumsy — far from ready for agile combat.
"Tomorrow I'll keep training by the book. It'll get steadier."
Chen Mo exhaled softly and chose to log out.
The world before him shattered. His consciousness snapped back to his real rental room.
He took off the game helmet. His body ached all over, but with a solid, satisfying tiredness. Outside the window, the sky was already bright — early morning in reality.
Dragging his weary body to the bathroom, he flipped on the light to wash his face before sleeping.
But when he lifted his head and looked in the mirror, he froze completely, pupils shrinking to pinpricks.
The person staring back had short hair standing straight up on end, frizzy and messy, with faint yellow tints like it had been singed by electricity. It was an outrageous afro, like an old-school non-mainstream hairstyle — nothing like his neat, clean self before.
He grabbed at it. The hair was stiff and puffy, ridiculously silly.
Chen Mo stared at his reflection, mouth twitching uncontrollably. He muttered in utter 崩溃:
"What… what the hell happened to me?!"