A Day Feels Like a Year

Early in the morning, Peter Parker slowly walked downstairs, feeling the abundant strength in his body and brimming with confidence. Aunt May and Uncle Ben had already prepared breakfast and were waiting for him at the table.

Seeing Peter come downstairs, Aunt May smiled gently. "You've been asleep ever since you came back yesterday at noon. Hurry over and eat. I made extra just for you."

"Thanks, Aunt May. I feel like I could eat a cow right now," Peter said gratefully as he sat down to eat.

While they ate, Ben Parker casually turned on the television. The morning news was playing.

On the New York City morning news, a reporter stood solemnly in front of the bank that had been robbed yesterday. "As you can see, yesterday morning's robbery officially came to an end with one security guard injured, six robbers dead, and one robber rendered unable to resist."

"Another robbery happened in New York City yesterday?" Peter asked as he watched the television and ate.

"Of course. It was a big deal. Even I heard about it," Uncle Ben said.

"The reason this happened was not because of the New York police, but because one of the hostages stepped in and subdued them." As the reporter spoke, a photo of Bai Ye appeared beside him at just the right moment.

The instant Peter saw that handsome face in the photograph, his wolfing-down-food motion froze. He stared blankly at the television, then let out an uncontrollable cry through his mouthful of food. "Wang De Fa!"

"That young man is quite handsome, isn't he? Yesterday, a lot of the young girls at my workplace secretly printed out his picture on the color printer," Aunt May teased.

"No, he... this..." Peter had no idea what to say anymore. He only felt as though the entire world had changed while he slept.

Not only had his strength suddenly surged after one night's sleep, but the classmate beside him had suddenly appeared on television and killed six armed robbers. What was going on with this world?

After stammering for a long while, Peter looked at the clueless Aunt May and Uncle Ben and chose not to explain. He quickly devoured every scrap of food on the table, then got up and boarded the school bus.

Along the way, he tried calling Bai Ye's number, but received a notification that the phone was switched off.

Unable to get confirmation immediately, he could only sigh. Then he looked up and discovered that his usual goddess, Mary Jane, was walking toward him with a smile on her face.

Looking at his goddess's beautiful face, Peter's heartbeat inevitably quickened. He began to feel that today was his lucky day.

But then Mary Jane looked at him with concern and asked, "Peter, do you know where Bai Ye went? None of us could get through to him yesterday. Can you contact him?"

The expectant expression on Peter's face immediately collapsed. Under Mary Jane's disappointed gaze, he shook his head dejectedly to indicate that he did not know.

At noon, in the gym, Bai Ye sat cross-legged on the floor after once again pushing his body to its limits with the arrival of new training equipment.

As his hands formed seals, endless Purple Qi rose from his face, swirling above Bai Ye's head like clouds and mist.

While cultivating, he could condense the Purple Qi into clouds that circled above his head. None of the previous practitioners of the Purple Mist Divine Skill had ever possessed such an imposing cultivation aura.

Behind him, Smith was drenched in sweat as he continuously swung the Steel Rod in his hands against Bai Ye's back, yet he could not make him budge in the slightest.

Half an hour later, Bai Ye raised his hands into a five-hearts-facing-heaven posture and slowly concluded his cultivation. Feeling another wisp of internal energy in his body, he was deeply satisfied.

With the Purple Mist Divine Skill, an ordinary talent needed to meditate for half a day to produce a single thread of Purple Mist True Qi. Even a peerless genius needed fifteen minutes to produce one thread.

According to the Gentleman Sword's description in the group, the martial world judged internal energy based on the amount of True Qi cultivated by an ordinary talent.

One thread of True Qi counted as the amount an ordinary person cultivated in a day. Ten threads made one wisp. Thirty-six wisps in the body amounted to one year of internal energy, three hundred and sixty wisps amounted to ten years, and three thousand six hundred wisps counted as a hundred years of True Qi.

With his constitution attribute at 1.8, Bai Ye could generate one thread of Purple Mist True Qi every three minutes. He was more than ten times faster than before and only needed to cultivate for sixteen hours to possess an ordinary person's yearly amount of internal energy.

A genius could cultivate for one day and equal an ordinary person's year of cultivation. Perhaps that was the origin of the idiom, "a day feels like a year."

After finishing his cultivation, Bai Ye turned to Smith, who had long since run out of stamina and was sitting to one side panting. "Your stamina is seriously affecting the pace of my training."

"Hey, Bai, that's a little too much. For an ordinary person like me, being able to strike at full force for two or three minutes already counts as having plenty of stamina. Not everyone is like you," Smith complained.

"I know. I'm not blaming you. I'm just thinking of a solution to improve your constitution," Bai Ye said thoughtfully.

"You could hire a few more people to hit you together," Smith suggested, only for Bai Ye to immediately reject it. "With how fast I'm improving now, I can't trust other people. They could report me at any time. Only you can help me cultivate."

I have too many secrets. It isn't suitable for me to have too much contact with others while training. Besides, Smith is easy to control, and I know where he lives. Even if he wanted to reveal anything, he would have to consider my retaliation. Other people wouldn't be nearly as safe.

Hearing Bai Ye trust him so much, Smith, who had no idea what was going through Bai Ye's mind, could not help feeling touched.

After thinking for a while, Bai Ye said, "I'll teach you the Purple Mist Divine Skill. It's the martial art that made purple clouds appear on my face while I was meditating just now."

"Chinese kung fu?" Smith's eyes widened. "Bai, you're going to teach me?"

"More or less," Bai Ye said. He planned to write down the Purple Mist Divine Skill when he got home tonight, then give it to Smith to cultivate.

The reason he was treating Smith so well was not really to have Smith help improve his constitution.

After all, with this guy's aptitude, it would already be impressive if he could understand the Purple Mist Divine Skill within ten years. The main purpose was the advertisement for his transaction with the club owner a month from now.

Yes, the so-called hundred-billion transaction Bai Ye had mentioned yesterday was the Purple Mist Divine Skill.

The reason he set the time for a month later was because Bai Ye had absolutely no confidence in his current strength. He planned to train for a month first and see the results.

If he was still weak after a month, he would simply stand the other party up and wait until he was strong enough before making the deal. After all, the initiative was in his hands.

"Right, it's almost noon now. You should head back first." Bai Ye checked the time. "You seemed pretty tired this morning. Rest for a while longer, then come back after three."

"Then thank you, boss," Smith said gratefully. After hearing that Bai Ye's kung fu could actually be replicated and that Bai Ye intended to pass it on to him, he practically wanted to become Bai Ye's disciple on the spot.

Watching Smith leave the club, Bai Ye took a glass vat out from the shadows. Inside was sulfuric acid with a purity of 98.3%.