Bug?

By the time the taxi stopped outside Happiness Residential Complex, it was already evening.

Tang Ping paid the fare and looked up at the residential towers that pierced the sea of clouds. Happiness Residential Complex, Building 88—his home. Without a moment's hesitation, he turned and entered the stairwell, beginning the climb floor by floor.

This was an age when people no longer relied on elevators.

After all, elevators tended to develop all sorts of faults within a decade or so, and the cost of a single repair could equal half a year's expenses for an ordinary family.

More importantly, Earthlings were now in far better physical shape than before. For most people, taking the stairs was faster than waiting for an elevator and squeezing inside.

For that reason, the lower floors in residential complexes had become "unpopular." They rarely got enough sunlight, and their prices were nearly thirty percent lower than those of the higher floors.

His home on the 88th floor, however, was the real "top tier": the privacy of a single apartment per floor, the advantage of being in the catchment area for a top middle school just a ten-minute walk away, the convenience of a top-grade hospital next door, and a prime location right in the city center. Ten years ago, it would have been the undisputed "king of the building," with buyers fighting over it no matter the price.

Unfortunately, in the wake of the great development boom across the Milky Way Galaxy, Earth was no longer humanity's only place of habitation. Housing prices had plunged like a roller coaster.

Sometimes, Tang Ping felt lucky that after his parents had died unexpectedly, the Luo Family had helped him pay off the rest of the mortgage without a word. Otherwise, he might have ended up like those unlucky homeowners who owed more on their mortgages than their houses were worth.

He'd heard that some people, crushed by their mortgage payments, had gone to the Luo Family to demand an explanation. Things had eventually ended up in court. The lawsuit had dragged on for years, and there was still no resolution.

Whenever Tang Ping thought about it, he couldn't help clicking his tongue. Those people really had guts. They'd probably forgotten who the true ruler of Earth was!

Especially since Luo Feng's strength was still rising by leaps and bounds. In a few years, once the younger generation of the Luo Family's "trust-fund brats" had grown up, probably no one would dare to openly challenge the Luo Family like that anymore.

Tang Ping went inside and opened the window.

The evening breeze swept in, carrying the damp scent of the sea of clouds. Below him, white waves of clouds churned, while the city's neon lights shimmered faintly through gaps in the clouds in the distance. He leaned against the window and stood there for a while, letting his thoughts drift away with the waves, until a chill crept into the breeze. Only then did he turn and take a shower.

When he came out, his phone screen lit up a few times. His childhood friend Liu Hui had sent him a flood of photos from his summer vacation in space: camping in the Martian canyons, checking in beneath Jupiter's rings. Every line of his messages was dripping with smugness.

Tang Ping laughed and replied with a few "I'm so jealous" messages, then tossed the phone onto the bedside table.

For the past few days, he'd been excited almost every moment, his nerves taut as a bowstring. Only now, as he finally relaxed completely, did an unprecedented wave of exhaustion wash over him.

He flopped onto the bed, and the soft blankets enveloped him at once. Just before he closed his eyes, only one thought crossed his mind: This time, I'm sleeping until I wake up naturally.

Good night.

The next day, it was ten in the morning before Tang Ping slowly awoke from his deep sleep. Sunlight filtered through a gap in the curtains, casting a long, narrow patch of light across the floor.

As soon as his consciousness returned, he instinctively reached for the Smart Bracelet beside his pillow. No missed calls, no notifications. From early morning until noon, nobody had disturbed him.

That was the benefit of living alone. No demanding job forcing him to clock in, no social engagements to deal with, and no distant relatives or friends showing up to cause trouble. He could sleep whenever he wanted, for as long as he wanted. Even his dreams were especially peaceful.

Tang Ping blinked and lay in bed for a while, absentmindedly rubbing his eyes with his fingers. But what he saw made him sit bolt upright.

Why was everything a little blurry?

He blinked hard again, but a faint ghostly haze still clung to his vision, as if he were looking through frosted glass. Had I become nearsighted?

He immediately dismissed the thought. What a joke. He'd only recently advanced his cultivation. The evolutionary energy that had surged through his body had completely remade him. Never mind a minor problem like nearsightedness—even kidney deficiency would have been thoroughly repaired in the process of evolving and transcending!

Tang Ping frowned and began to question his existence.

Was this a side effect of his breakthrough? Or had his senses gone haywire? He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down, focusing his consciousness on the apparition before his eyes.

He had only just broken through to Planetary Rank, after all. Maybe he'd awakened a new talent? The universe was vast and full of wonders. Experts with two or even three talents weren't that rare. Perhaps he'd been lucky enough to awaken one himself.

As he focused, the apparition before him gradually came into view. It was clearly a translucent panel, displaying Chinese characters he knew all too well from his previous life. Each one appeared crisp and distinct:

Realm: Planetary Rank, Level Three (1/1000)

Will: Planetary Rank, Level Three (1/1000)

Lifespan: 20/5000

Laws: 0

Secret Art: Wind-Thunder Secret Canon (1/10000000)

After reading the information on the panel, Tang Ping's heart pounded wildly, and his face instantly lit up with delight.

As a die-hard paying reader on Qidian, he knew this kind of panel all too well. Could this be the legendary "Deep Blue" system?

The old saying was right: Mother Earth never neglected children who had wandered far from home. She always sent them a blessing at the crucial moment!

Even so, Tang Ping quickly calmed down. As far as he knew, Founder of the Giant Axe would travel back in time on Earth in the future, so he couldn't afford to show anything unusual.

He tried calling out in his mind, "System Dad? Deep Blue? Bro? Great-grandfather System?"

He called for a long time, but the panel simply floated in his field of vision without a response. No options appeared asking whether to open a beginner's gift pack or add points.

The smile gradually faded from Tang Ping's face.

This panel didn't have any intelligence at all—and it couldn't fast-track his cultivation, either?

His disappointment was brief, and he quickly composed himself. "It's fine if I can't add points. Maybe it's a Proficiency Panel?"

His spirits immediately lifted. He flipped out of bed and stood in the middle of the bedroom. With a thought, dozens of small swords condensed from origin energy appeared out of nowhere, slowly circling around him.

He began practicing the first move of the Planetary Rank offensive chapter of the Wind-Thunder Secret Canon: "Gale Thrust." The small swords shot forward and returned in response to his will.

But his movements were rather stiff. The bedroom was too small to properly perform the technique, and he hadn't managed to draw out even a tenth of its power, let alone execute it properly.

After practicing for a full hour, Tang Ping was breathing slightly hard. He checked the panel again. The number after "Wind-Thunder Secret Canon" remained (1/10000000), completely unchanged.

"Looks like I'll need to find a proper place to practice." Tang Ping pondered for a moment, then dug the Virtual Helmet out of his closet.

The Luo Family had opened the Virtual Training Ground to its members and close associates. It had all kinds of simulated environments, making it the perfect place to practice secret arts. He put on the helmet, connected his consciousness to the training ground, and selected an open grassland.

This time, Tang Ping didn't dare slack off at all.

He steadied his mind and circulated his origin energy according to the Wind-Thunder Secret Canon's instructions. Dozens of small swords instantly solidified. Following the movements of "Gale Thrust," they shot out like lightning and struck the distant target dead center. The entire sequence flowed smoothly, without a single mistake.

As soon as the last small sword returned, Tang Ping looked at the panel. Sure enough, the number after "Wind-Thunder Secret Canon" had ticked up to (2/10000000)!

He immediately breathed a sigh of relief, a smile returning to his lips.

Even if the panel couldn't help him level up quickly by adding points, it was still useful—and extremely useful at that!

It not only showed him the direction of his cultivation, but also turned abstract "progress" into concrete numbers. He no longer had to practice his technique blindly, never knowing whether he'd made any progress.

After all, cultivation was just like research. A clear goal and the right direction could save you from so many detours!

Especially for a former programmer like him, a "progress bar" was absolutely essential. Visible progress was the greatest motivation to keep going.

Tang Ping knew all too well why so many people gave up on cultivation and lost themselves in entertainment.

Many people would cultivate bitterly for days, months, or even years without feeling the slightest bit of progress. They couldn't find the threshold, and they couldn't see any hope. The tedium and monotony slowly wore away all their enthusiasm, until they finally gave up halfway.

That was why "will" was one of the most important attributes in any universe.

Only by persevering could you have a chance to see the fruits of success!

Now, although he had no expert to guide him, he had a panel that could display his progress.

Tang Ping clenched his fist, his gaze growing determined.

What should he do next? What else could he do?

Grind!