The Poor Rely on Mutation

Si Ming spent a whole day watching the entire series, and he only had two days left to watch it.

Zhong Lingxiu thought for a moment, then tentatively asked, "Is it to help you understand the essence of 'The Legend of the Divine Radish Hero' so that you might also come to like this work?"

"That's fundamentally wrong! What happened to helping me understand my opponent's fighting style? Since she's imitating the third generation of Great Radish Hero, we should be watching the third installment!"

Si Ming was speechless and questioned the heavens. Time was already tight, and half of it had been wasted. He should have just stayed in bed and rested to recover from his injuries as quickly as possible.

Zhong Lingxiu knew she had made a mistake, so she shrank back and said sheepishly, "At least the Sure Enough Radish Slash move is indeed a signature skill of every generation of Great Radish Hero, so it wasn't a complete waste of time watching it."

Si Ming sighed helplessly. Last night, he was challenged to a duel by a girl named Nan Kemeng. Originally, he didn't believe in divination and thought it was too mysterious and unreliable. But after asking around, he learned that divination was a science here, a subject similar to mathematics and physics, and there were even special courses for it in college.

In Si Ming's mind, divination was just fortune telling. Things like looking at appearances, reading palms, interpreting characters, burning tortoise shells, and shaking lots were nothing more than empty talk. He wondered if such divination would still be accurate if someone had plastic surgery.

In the Sea Continent, divination is a probabilistic method that uses the I Ching to perform formulaic calculations. It is used in many places, and even casinos will hire professional divination masters to sit in and disrupt the I Ching within the casino to prevent anyone from taking advantage of the system.

In fact, strictly speaking, the method that Si Ming remembers is divination, not fortune telling.

If divination relies on one's own thinking and calculation abilities, then fortune-telling relies on Heaven and the gods. For some unknown reason, the latter became completely ineffective a hundred years ago, and no matter how one consults, there is no response. The former was also affected, but not severely.

Divination is not 100% accurate; it has corresponding accuracy standards. The greater the influence of the object of divination, the more variables need to be calculated, and the lower the accuracy. For example, it is definitely more difficult to divine the fate of a Spirit Transformation expert than an ordinary civilian.

Sometimes, divination is not as effective as simple mathematical statistics. For example, when calculating this year's Su State, if divination is used, there are countless variables, and the accuracy of the final result is close to zero. However, if mathematical statistics are used, as long as the growth rate in previous years is used, a rough range can be estimated.

The results of divination are not immutable. For example, if Si Ming immediately withdraws from the competition, Nan Kemeng's opponent in the next round will naturally not be Si Ming. Therefore, the accuracy of divination is based on the assumption that those in the know do not have any influence.

Now that the other party's calculations were assured, Si Ming changed his attitude and began to take it seriously. If it weren't for the fact that we don't even have cell phones these days, he would really like to find Nan Kemeng's battle videos to analyze.

Zhong Lingxiu said, "Then let's hurry up and watch the third movie. I've already rented all the DVDs."

"Then why don't you just broadcast it from the beginning! Time is tight now, and this method is too inefficient. If we spend another half a day watching the recording and still don't gain anything, it'll be too late to regret it. We need to change our approach. Since she's a disciple of the Nanhua Sect Daoist School, let's find someone from the Daoist School to ask."

Si Ming knew only one Daoist School disciple.

"The Nanhua Sect, the lineage of Zhuang Zhou, then you've come to the right person," Pan De laughed. "The Nanhua Sect is a branch of the Mystic Sect, a martial arts holy Divine Continent of the Central Land. It inherits the Daoist tradition of the 'Formless Mystic Art.' It is said that by cultivating this Cultivation Method, one can simulate any type of True Qi in the world and even copy the opponent's ultimate move in battle."

Upon hearing this, Si Ming felt that the effects of this Cultivation Method were somewhat similar to the "Lesser Formless Art" in Jin Yong's martial arts novels. Even the name had three repetitions, so it was indeed a coincidence.

After explaining Nan Kemeng's situation, Pan De clapped his hands and said, "That's simple. For a disciple with her level of cultivation, in order to better simulate a character, she must completely immerse herself in the role. So you just need to find the character's weakness in the story. If she dares to refuse to acknowledge her weakness, she will break free from the State of Mind the character she is imitating."

Si Ming suddenly realized, but his joyful expression didn't last long before he said with a long face, "In the end, I still have to binge-watch TV dramas!"

Chapter Sixty-Four: The Poor Rely on Mutation

Evening, at the Divine Leg Sect's training ground.

"Why did you lose to that kid? Your Internal Cultivation level is twice his, and he was injured too. No matter how you look at it, there's no reason for you to lose to him!"

Han Lin, spitting as he spoke, complained to Dai Zhuiguang, who was practicing with a wooden dummy nearby.

"I'm not as skilled as them, there's nothing to say."

Dai Zhuiguang didn't even turn his head, continuing his cultivation.

Han Lin didn't believe it at all. "I've already inquired about that kid's skills. He couldn't even cultivate Internal Cultivation before. Later, he somehow got involved with the Mohist Academy of Science and became the subject of testing new Cultivation Method. That's how he developed True Qi. He's just a half-baked amateur. You, on the other hand, are a genius newcomer from the Divine Leg Sect. You could easily beat him even with just one leg!"

"Believe it or not, I did my best," Dai Zhuiguang said, annoyed by the noise, and stopped practicing. "I have no grudge against them. I was just cooperating with you, Uncle-Master, to provoke them, and in the end, I lost both the battle and my reputation."

Han Lin retorted, "Is this my fault?"

Dai Zhuiguang's anger flared up, and he launched a high kick that flew back and struck with the speed of a whirlwind. It stopped just an inch away from Han Lin's nose, and the resulting gust of wind howled out, pulling Han Lin's hair so that it looked like a hedgehog.

"Victory and defeat are common occurrences in Military School. Losing to anyone is normal; this is common sense for martial artists. Unlike you, my martial uncle, I can't afford to lose even a little bit."

Dai Zhuiguang withdrew his leg, ignoring Han Lin's bloodless face, snorted, and left the training platform.

"Damn it, what a piece of trash! Disrespectful to elders, utterly ill-mannered, just a spoiled brat who's been pampered. Does he really think he's a genius? In the end, he can't even beat an injured piece of trash."

Han Lin was both ashamed and upset, but he didn't dare to teach Dai Zhuiguang a lesson. He was very confident in his skills when he was in college, but now he had wasted so many years. If they really fought, he might not be a match for this junior from his sect. Besides, even if he won, there would be no benefit. He would not only be known as a bully, but he would also offend the sect elders who valued Dai Zhuiguang, and he would inevitably be retaliated against in the future.

Furious but unable to vent his anger on anyone, Han Lin left the Divine Leg Sect's residence looking constipated, cursing incessantly. "It's all that bitch's fault! Ever since I met her, my life has plummeted from heaven to hell. My girlfriend was shot, I became the laughingstock of my classmates, my sect no longer values me, and my parents, unwilling to offend the Yao Clan, advised me to swallow my anger. Now, even a junior doesn't respect me. She's completely ruined my life!"

As he passed through an alley, he stopped, looked up at the narrow, dim night sky, and cried out, "God, do you have eyes? I haven't done many wrong things in my life, why punish me like this? I'm not convinced, I'm not convinced—"

"Young man, do you crave power?"

Suddenly, a voice came from behind.

Han Lin was startled, his hair standing on end. He turned his head and saw a tall, thin figure hiding in the darkness. He stomped his foot on the ground, secretly channeling his True Qi, and shouted, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Who I am is not important; what matters is that I can make you stronger.

"Get stronger?" Han Lin scoffed. "Do you think this is still the Savage Wilderness era of martial arts? A country bumpkin who's never practiced martial arts suddenly meets a martial arts master, is taken in as a disciple, and has his extraordinary martial arts talent discovered? Give me a break. Everyone can practice martial arts now. Whether someone has talent or not is obvious. The martial arts you know might not even be better than a ten-dollar manual from a roadside stall."

"Hehe, learning martial arts isn't the only way to become stronger. I have a method specifically for poor people to become stronger. Don't you want to give it a try?"

"You're crazy, I'm not interested."

Han Lin couldn't gauge the other person's strength, and the other person's voice was very strange, as if it wasn't coming from their mouth. He cautiously retreated, creating distance and looking for an opportunity to escape.

The tall, thin figure in the darkness did not intervene; he only uttered one sentence.

Don't you want to teach that woman a lesson?

Han Lin stopped in his tracks and unconsciously clenched his fists.

Don't you want to slap those classmates who looked down on you in the face? Don't you want your teachers and elders to regret ever neglecting you? Don't you want your parents to look at you with new respect? Don't you want your juniors to look up to you? Don't you want all those who have offended you to kneel before you, begging for your forgiveness?

Each rhetorical question that struck at the heart was like the devil's whisper, tempting Han Lin and making him unable to move forward. Even though he knew the other party had no good intentions, he still couldn't resist, because it was indeed his long-cherished wish.