Over the next three days, Dia spent almost all of his waking hours on cultivation.
The notebook Zhao Tieshan gave him wasn't thick—only a little over thirty pages—but every page was densely filled with writing and illustrated with various maps of human meridians and the flow of spiritual energy. For the first time, Dia learned that, aside from blood vessels and nerves, the human body had an entirely different system: the meridians. Spiritual energy flowed through these meridians, just as blood flows through blood vessels, but it was invisible to the naked eye.
"Spiritual energy enters the human body from the outside, seeping in through pores and acupoints, traveling along the meridians, and eventually gathering in the dantian," Zhao Tieshan explained, pointing to the diagrams in the notebook. "The dantian is located three cun below the navel and is the core storage for spiritual energy. The warmth you feel is the response of the energy moving through the meridians."
"How do you control it?" Dia asked.
"Through your mind," Zhao Tieshan said. "Your mind is the key to controlling spiritual energy. Focus your attention and imagine the heat moving along the path you desire. It's difficult at first, like trying to lead an ox with a single strand of hair. But take it slowly; you will eventually succeed."
Dia practiced all day.
On the first day, he could only make the warmth swirl around his chest, like a headless fly, completely disobedient. He tried to guide it downward with his mind, but each time it curved around and returned to its original position. By evening, he was drenched in sweat and utterly exhausted, having made no progress.
"Don't rush." Zhao Tieshan looked at his tired appearance, a hint of sympathy in his tone. 'You're already faster than most people. It took me a whole week just to get the spiritual energy moving.'
Dia nodded but did not stop.
The next day, he tried a different method. Instead of forcibly guiding, he first sensed—sensing the flow, speed, and rhythm of the spiritual energy. He discovered that the heat flow was not completely random; it had its own rule. It was like there was a fixed track, but that track was not in the direction he wanted it to go.
What if he could expand that track?
Dia tried to 'widen' the meridians with his mind, giving the spiritual energy more space to flow. This time, the heat moved—not in the direction he wanted, but along the original path of the meridians, slowly and steadily pushing forward.
Starting from the chest, going up to the shoulders, down along the arms, through the elbows and wrists, finally converging in the center of his palm.
Dia opened his eyes and looked down at his hand.
The palm was hot, but there was no flame. Only a warm, flowing power, like a compressed air swirling in the palm.
'I did it,' he murmured.
Zhao Tieshan walked over, looking at his hand, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
'Two days,' he said, 'it only took two days.'
'But it's not enough yet.' Dia clenched his fists, and the heat in his palm dissipated. 'I haven't released fire like you did.'
'That's because your amount of spiritual energy isn't enough yet,' Zhao Tieshan explained. 'I was already exhausted just running the spiritual energy inside my body. Releasing attribute attacks requires more spiritual energy and stronger control. Take it slow, don't rush.'
Dia didn't answer. He looked at his hand, thinking over something.
Early the next morning, Dia was awakened by a scream.
"Zombies! Zombies are breaking in!"
On the east side of the quarantine area, the barbed wire was torn open. More than a dozen zombies poured through the gap. They looked even more grotesque than the ones seen before—some had rotting clothes hanging from their bodies, some were missing half their heads, and some had limbs bent at unnatural angles, yet their speed was not slow at all.
The soldiers fired; the gunshots were deafening. Several zombies fell, but more stepped over their fallen comrades and came on. One zombie rushed into the crowd, grabbed a woman who couldn't escape in time, and bit her neck.
Screams, cries, and gunfire blended into one chaotic sound.
Dia stood up, ready to rush over. Zhao Tieshan grabbed him.
"What are you doing?"
"Save people!"
"If you go now, you will die!" Zhao Tieshan's voice was very stern, "Your aura is not enough, you can't even beat a zombie!" "
"What should I do? Watching them die? "
Zhao Tieshan gritted his teeth and let go of his hand: "You stay here, I'll go." "
He turned and rushed towards the zombie horde, releasing flames with both hands at the same time, forming a wall of fire in front of him. Several zombies rushed into the wall of fire, were instantly ignited, turned into humanoid torches, struggled in the flames for a few seconds, and then fell to the ground motionless.
But there are too many zombies. The wall of fire only partially blocked it, and more zombies poured in through the gap. Zhao Tieshan rushed left and right, and the flames changed shape in his hands - sometimes whips, sometimes shields, sometimes missiles. He blocked most of the zombies alone, but Dia could see that he was also consuming. The flame is getting weaker and slower.
A zombie circled behind him and pounced on him.
"Be careful!" Dia shouted.
Zhao Tieshan turned around and punched the zombie in the face, his fist with flames, and the zombie's head was blown up. But another zombie took the opportunity to bite his arm.
Zhao Tieshan snorted and released the flames with his other hand, burning the zombie to ashes. But he left a deep tooth mark on his arm, and blood flowed.
"Uncle Zhao!" Dia rushed over.
"Don't come here!" Zhao Tieshan roared, his face pale, "I'm fine, you step back!" "
But Dia didn't listen. He had already rushed to Zhao Tieshan's side and supported him as he was crumbling.
"I'll ask you to step back!" Zhao Tieshan pushed him, so strong that Dia staggered several steps.
At this moment, a huge mutant dog rushed in through the gap. It was larger than any one I had seen before, with a shoulder height of 1.5 meters, black fur, blood-red eyes, and saliva flowing from its mouth. Its goal is clear - Zhao Tieshan.
Zhao Tieshan raised his hand and wanted to release the flames, but the wound on his arm prevented him from concentrating. The flame flashed in the palm of his hand a few times and then went out.
The mutant dog lunged forward.
Dia's body reacted before his brain did.
He charged in front of Zhao Tieshan, putting himself between him and the mutant dog. The gaping mouth of the mutant dog loomed in his eyes; he could see row upon row of sharp teeth, and smell the putrid stench emanating from its mouth.
Then, pain.
The mutant dog bit his left arm—the same arm that had been bitten by a dog before. The teeth pierced the skin, pierced the muscle, and he even heard the sound of bones cracking.
The excruciating pain made his vision go blank.
But he did not fall.
He raised his right hand, and a surge of heat erupted from his palm— not flames, but a pure force, like a heavy punch, striking the mutant dog's head. The force wasn't strong, but enough to make the mutant dog release its jaws and take two steps back.
Dia looked down at his left arm. His sleeve was already torn, exposing four deep bite marks from which blood gushed uncontrollably. He could see the white of the bone, the torn muscle, the blood vessels pulsing in the air.
Then, the real pain came.
It was like ten thousand needles piercing his body simultaneously, spreading from his arm to his shoulder, from shoulder to chest, and from chest to his entire body. His knees gave way, and he collapsed to the ground. His vision began to blur, and a buzzing filled his ears.
"Dia!" Zhao Tieshan's voice came from somewhere far away.
Dia tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn't obey. He tried to stand, but his legs were no longer his. He felt someone holding him, someone shouting in his ear, but he couldn't hear anything clearly.
The final image was the mutant dog engulfed by Zhao Tieshan's flames.
Then, darkness.
Dia was floating in the darkness.
No up or down, no front or back, no time, no space. Only darkness, endless, pure darkness.
He didn't know where he was, didn't know who he was, not even if he was still alive.
Then, he saw a light.
Far away, there was a bit of golden light, like a lamp in the deep sea. It was faint, but extremely noticeable in the darkness. Dia wanted to get closer to it, but he couldn't move. He could only watch that light, watch it flicker, dance, burn.
The light was getting bigger.
Not approaching him, but expanding. From a point to a sphere, from a sphere to a flame. Golden flames, burning in the darkness, growing brighter and hotter.
Then he heard a voice.
"Diago… wake up…"
Who? Who was calling him?
"His fever hasn't gone down… what should we do…"
"Apply a towel… then change another basin of water…"
"He's been like this for three days… could it be…"
Three days? What three days?
Dia wanted to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt as if they were filled with lead. He wanted to speak, but his throat felt blocked. He could only listen to the voices, broken, like hearing them underwater.
"Let me." It was a child's voice, very young, with a hint of crying.
A hand was placed on his forehead. Small, cool, slightly trembling.
"Diago, you have to wake up. You said you would protect us, you can't go back on your word."
Afu.
It was Afu's voice.
Dia wanted to respond, to tell him he wasn't going back on his word. But his body didn't obey, as if locked away in some very deep, very deep place.
Golden flames burned around him, growing stronger and stronger. He felt the flow of heat surge from every corner of his body, converging in his chest, converging in his Dantian, converging in that unseen eye.
The Eye of Law.
It was awakening.
Not a slow, gradual awakening, but an explosive, unstoppable one. It was as if something inside him had detonated, shattering all the shackles to pieces.
He saw it.
Not with his eyes, but with the Eye of Law. He saw inside his own body—every meridian, every acupoint, every drop of blood, every cell. He saw the spiritual energy flowing through the meridians, slow and weak, like a stream running through a drying riverbed.
He saw the wound on his left arm.
Four teeth marks, deep down to the bone. Muscles torn, blood vessels severed, cracks on the bones. But around the wound was a faint golden glow, slowly repairing the damaged tissue. New granulation tissue wriggled, blood vessels reconnected, bones gradually healed.
Too slow.
At this rate, it would take him at least a week to recover. And in a week's time, what would happen in the outside world?
He needed faster.
Dia focused his mind and directed the spiritual energy in his body toward his left arm. The hot current seemed to obey his command, starting from the Dantian, flowing down the meridians, through the shoulder, through the elbow joint, and converging around the wound.
Pain.
It felt as if someone had poured boiling oil over the wound. Dia silently screamed in the darkness, yet his body remained still. Golden flames burned inside him, scorching the wound, scorching the meridians, scorching every single cell.
But the wound was healing faster.
At a speed visible to the naked eye. The torn muscles grew back together, the severed blood vessels reconnected, the cracks in the bones slowly disappeared. The golden light grew brighter, hotter, as if lighting a sun inside him.
Then, he heard a second voice.
It wasn't Afu's, nor Xiaoyu's. It was a deeper, more distant voice, as if coming from the end of time.
"...You are finally awake."
That voice.
The voice he heard on the night of the Spiritual Energy Tide.
"Who are you?" Diya asked in the darkness.
No answer. Only golden flames burned around him, illuminating the endless darkness.
"Who exactly are you?"
"…You will know later," the voice finally replied, old, distant, carrying an indescribable weariness. "But for now, you need to go back. Someone is waiting for you."
"Go back where?"
"Back. Back to your body. Back to those who need you."
The golden flames suddenly erupted, engulfing the entire darkness. Diya felt his body rising, as if lifted by an invisible hand, surfacing from the deep sea.
The light grew stronger, closer.
Then, he opened his eyes.
Ceiling.
Grayish-white, cracked ceiling.
Diya stared at the crack for a long time before slowly realizing where he was. Welfare home—no, not the welfare home. It was a tent in the quarantine area. He lay on a camp bed, covered with a thin blanket, his left arm wrapped in thick bandages.
The tent was very quiet, only the sound of breathing and the occasional gunfire from afar.
He turned his head and saw Afu.
The child sat on a chair by the bed, curled up, asleep. There were still tear marks on his face, and his small hand rested by Diya's bed, as if holding something.
Diya looked down at his left hand. Beneath the bandages, the wound no longer hurt. He could feel the new skin, smooth and intact, as if it had never been injured.
He tried moving his fingers. They moved. Made a fist. Opened. Everything was normal.
"Brother Diya?"
Afu woke up. He rubbed his eyes, saw Diya's eyes open, and froze for a moment. Then, tears welled up in his little eyes.
"Diego! You're awake! You're really awake!" A-Fu threw himself onto him, crying uncontrollably. "You've been asleep for three days! Three days! I thought you... I thought you..."
"I'm fine." Diego touched his head, his voice hoarse like sandpaper rubbing against wood. "I'm fine, stop crying."
The tent flap was lifted, and Xiao Yu walked in holding a bowl of water. When she saw that Diego was awake, her hand trembled, almost dropping the bowl.
"Diego!" she ran over, tears streaming down her face. "You're finally awake! Do you know how worried we were? You had a fever of forty-one degrees, your whole body was convulsing, we thought you were going to..."
"I'm fine," Diego repeated, sitting up.
He looked down at his left arm and unwrapped the bandage.
Xiao Yu and A-Fu both gasped.
Under the bandages, the wound had completely healed. No scars, no redness, only four faint pink marks, like mosquito bites. The new skin was smooth and delicate, sharply contrasting with the rough skin around it.
"How... how is this possible?" Xiao Yu widened her eyes. "Yesterday the doctor said your bones were shattered and you might need an amputation..."
Diego clenched his fist, feeling strength flowing through his arm. Not just recovery—his left arm was stronger than before the injury. Muscles firmer, reflexes sharper, even the flow of his aura smoother.
Is this the cost of awakening?
Three days of unconsciousness and near-death experience, exchanged for the complete awakening of the Eye of Law and physical enhancement?
The tent flap was lifted again. Zhao Tieshan walked in, holding a can. Seeing Diego awake, his steps hesitated, then he walked over and placed the can beside the bed.
"Awake?" His voice was calm, but Diego could see the relief in his eyes.
"Mm."
"How do you feel?"
Diego moved his arm: "Even better than before the injury."
Zhao Tieshan nodded and sat beside him.
"Do you know how long you've been unconscious?"
"Three days."
"Three days and seven hours." Zhao Tieshan corrected him. "During these three days, your body temperature stayed above forty degrees, and your heartbeat reached two hundred at its fastest. The doctors said there is an unknown energy raging inside you, and they have absolutely no way to control it."
"Spiritual energy," Dia said.
"Yes, spiritual energy." Zhao Tieshan looked at him. "Your spiritual energy is out of control. Not too little, but too much. Your body couldn't withstand this amount of spiritual energy, which is why you had a fever, convulsions, and lost consciousness."
"But I survived."
"You survived," Zhao Tieshan was silent for a moment. "Not just survived. The meridians in your body… have been widened. Forcefully widened by that raging spiritual energy. Do you know what this means?"
Dia shook his head.
Zhao Tieshan took a deep breath. "It means the amount of spiritual energy your body can hold now is more than ten times that of a normal person. Your cultivation speed will also be more than ten times that of a normal person."
The tent was quiet for several seconds.
"What's the price?" Dia asked.
Zhao Tieshan looked at him with a complicated expression.
"You've already paid the price," he said. "If you hadn't made it through, your meridians would have shattered under the impact of the spiritual energy. You would have become a cripple or even died. But you made it through."
"So?"
"So, you are now the one among us with the greatest hope of becoming strong." Zhao Tieshan stood up and patted his shoulder. "Rest well. Once you've fully recovered, I'll teach you more."
He turned to leave, paused, and looked back at Dia.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you something."
"What?"
"During these three days you were unconscious, the outside world has gotten worse. More zombies, more mutated animals, and…" he paused. "…people are hunting the survivors. Not zombies, humans."
"Evil cultivators?" Dia remembered the term Zhao Tieshan had mentioned earlier.
"Yes." Zhao Tieshan's expression turned grave. "They have awakened some evil ability, strengthening themselves by devouring others' souls. They are no longer human."
He lifted the flap and walked out.
Dia sat on the bed, looking at his healing left arm.
The sky outside had turned that strange red again, with multicolored light bands faintly visible behind the clouds. In the distance, there were gunshots, screams, and some low, resonant roars.
The world was collapsing.
But he was getting stronger.
Dia clenched his fist, feeling the hot flow surging in his palm, like ignited embers.
He knew this was only the beginning.
A greater storm was yet to come.