I Must Be a Genius

Half an hour later.

Inside the tightly shut room, by the light streaming in through the window, Yang An finally read every word on the paper several times over, making sure he had missed nothing.

This was a spell that required no Mana at all—one even ordinary people could perform!

But for ordinary people, learning this spell was no easy task, and they also had to bear a terrifying price after casting it.

Fortunately, this spell had now been completely purified by him, and its price had been eliminated. The method of practice was simply somewhat unfriendly.

Yang An had already memorized everything on the paper. Next came the time to test it.

But before practicing, he wanted to make a few preparations.

Glancing at the sky outside, Yang An saw that it was still morning. After thinking for a moment, he quickly found a bowl in the kitchen and tucked it into his clothes before leaving home.

Following the direction from which last night's scream had come, Yang An soon reached the end of the street.

Even from some distance away, Yang An immediately spotted the corpse covered with a straw mat, as well as the horrifying scene around it, with bright-red bloodstains everywhere.

The air still seemed to be thick with a lingering stench of blood.

He looked at the body beneath the straw mat and quickly recognized the deceased. She was the pretty widow who usually sold tofu on the street.

Several hours had passed since the incident last night. The body was probably already completely cold.

Yang An sighed inwardly at the waste, then looked around.

Ever since demons had appeared in Jiu Nan Town, few people dared to show themselves fearlessly on the streets, even in broad daylight.

No one had collected the pretty widow's body. He did not know who had covered her with the straw mat, but at least they had left her with a final shred of dignity.

Other than that, even the people who loved watching spectacles the most had vanished without a trace. They probably had no mind for such things now.

No one was perfect!

Yang An gathered his courage, gritted his teeth, took the bowl from his clothes, and quickly ran toward the corpse.

Once he got close, he did not dare lift the straw mat to see the full extent of it. He merely glanced at the brightest patch of red and extended the bowl in his hand.

There was a large gash in the corpse's waist and abdomen, and the bright-red blood had not yet fully congealed.

Yang An scraped at it with the bowl, applying a little force. When he felt that the bowl had collected quite a bit, he hurried back the way he had come, acting like a thief. In truth, his heart was pounding with terror.

Fortunately, he did not encounter anyone on the way back. No one else saw him. Only after returning home and shutting the door did Yang An finally let out a breath.

Looking at the half bowl of bright-red blood, Yang An knew this was the preparation he had made in advance.

The Lighting Method required a finger as the candle and blood as the flame. It never said the blood had to be his own. He would first experiment with someone else's blood; if that truly did not work, he could make other plans.

It was not as though he had not considered using animal blood. But in the current circumstances, he could not even find a rat. He could only resort to this desperate measure.

Recalling everything written on the paper, Yang An remembered every detail with absolute clarity.

He stretched out his right index finger and lightly dipped it into the bowl. His fingertip immediately turned red.

Suppressing his discomfort, Yang An began following the instructions he had memorized. He silently recited the incantation while his other fingers formed a complicated hand seal.

The first attempt was somewhat awkward, but it ultimately succeeded without a hitch.

As the incantation ended and Yang An completed the hand seal, he suddenly felt a moist warmth at the tip of his index finger.

With a sputter, the red blood seemed to ignite like hot oil, and a red flame the size of a fingertip sprang up in an instant.

The flame was not large, yet the red glow it gave off dyed the entire room crimson, as though a red filter had been laid over everything.

Strangely, although the fire burned on Yang An's fingertip, he felt only a faint warmth and no pain of being burned.

At the sight of the flame, coupled with an indescribable sense of spiritual fulfillment, Yang An became excited as well.

"I must be a genius!"

Succeeding on his first try gave Yang An an enormous sense of accomplishment.

He admired the flame on his fingertip. It seemed to possess a peculiar kind of beauty. Only after quite some time did Yang An shake his finger and extinguish it.

He dipped his finger into the bowl again, coating it with more blood, and continued practicing over and over, determined to master the Lighting Method completely.

In the blink of an eye, afternoon arrived.

After one practice after another, Yang An finally learned the Lighting Method completely. He could now finish every step and produce a flame on his finger within two seconds.

At the same time, he had figured out several techniques.

The flame did not necessarily have to burn on his finger; it could also be transferred to other objects.

For instance, he could lead the flame onto an ordinary candle. But it still required blood as fuel, and the blood would be consumed much faster. Under the influence of external objects, the flame also became far easier to extinguish.

If it burned only on his fingertip, the flame was comparatively stable and would not go out at the first gust of wind. But he needed to prevent the blood on his finger from being completely used up, causing the flame to turn into ordinary fire and eventually burn him.

After becoming proficient in the Lighting Method, these were merely minor problems that could be handled with a little care.

However, there was still one problem Yang An had not yet found a good solution for: the blood in the bowl had begun gradually congealing into clots, so he could only use a chopstick to stir it from time to time.

This was also a drawback of the Lighting Method. If he used someone else's blood, he needed a way to preserve it and keep it from coagulating. Otherwise, he could only use his own blood as the catalyst.

Still, having reached this point, Yang An was already quite satisfied. He had no idea what effects the Lighting Method would truly have. He both hoped night would fall sooner and hoped it would not come so quickly, leaving him deeply conflicted.

Time trickled by, and dusk soon arrived. The sky gradually began to darken.

Yang An had also filled his stomach. Given his current circumstances, being able to eat one full meal a day was already a decent luxury.

Survival was still the most important thing. Once he confirmed that the Lighting Method worked, he would have the confidence to consider other matters, such as storing more food.

Before long, darkness completely swallowed the sky, and the already silent streets seemed to have fallen into a strange realm of utter soundlessness.

Sizzle!

Yang An immediately used the Lighting Method, drawing a flame onto his fingertip. The previously dark room instantly turned crimson.

He then transferred the flame into the bowl on the table—the very bowl he had used to hold blood during the day. By now, he had twisted a wick from hemp rope and placed it inside.

Rather than wait for the blood in the bowl to eventually congeal, he might as well use it up directly.

Once red fire also burned within the bowl, Yang An extinguished the flame on his fingertip and climbed into bed.

He had cleaned away the black ash scattered across the bed that morning. In its place, there was now a rusty little knife beneath his pillow, a precaution Yang An had prepared in case something unexpected happened.

He sat on the bed with his back against the wall, his eyes fixed on the direction of the door.

Whether or not the Lighting Method was taking effect, he felt no sleepiness at all. Instead, he was exceptionally alert, both nervous and filled with anticipation.