Cultivation Was Crawling Along Like a Turtle! Someone Wanted to Play Piano and Act Like a Big Shot?

Zhou Zihao fled, stumbling and scrambling, and the entire cafeteria instantly erupted in laughter loud enough to lift the roof.

A few quick-handed boys had already recorded the scene and posted it straight to the university's Tieba forum.

Zhao Mengyao laughed so hard she slumped over the table, pounding it.

"Oh, I can't take it! Was Zhou Zihao a faucet in his past life?"

"Now he's really famous at Jinghai University. Who's going to dare walk with him after this? They'll be scared he'll spray them all over."

Lin Ruoxue pushed up her black-framed glasses and delivered another blow with a perfectly straight face. "From a medical perspective, this appears to be severe sphincter laxity. I recommend he see an andrologist as soon as possible."

Ruan Qingwu had initially found it rather disgusting, but her two clownish roommates had her laughing despite herself, dispelling much of her cool, aloof air.

As though nothing had happened, Lin Bei picked up the last large shrimp and tossed it into his mouth.

"All right, forget that leaky faucet." Zhao Mengyao wiped the corners of her eyes with a tissue and steered the conversation back. "Seriously, the welcome gala is in a few days. Qingwu, how's your act coming along?"

Lin Bei raised his eyebrows and turned to Ruan Qingwu.

"You signed up?"

Ruan Qingwu felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze, and a blush crept onto her fair cheeks.

"Yeah. Our counselor insisted that every dorm put on an act, so I signed up for a classical dance solo."

Lin Bei's eyes instantly lit up.

Classical dance.

This girl had practiced dance since childhood, and her body was as supple as a noodle.

It didn't show when she wore a baggy school uniform or a T-shirt, but if she changed into a formfitting dance costume...

The corners of Lin Bei's mouth rose involuntarily.

"What are you staring at?" Ruan Qingwu blushed under his unblinking gaze and kicked him beneath the table again. "No dirty thoughts!"

"What could I possibly be thinking?" Lin Bei leaned lazily against the back of his chair, drawing out his words. "Don't worry. I'll bring Fatty and the others to cheer you on. If anyone dares shout louder than us, I'll stuff Zhou Zihao's pants in their mouth."

Ruan Qingwu couldn't hold back a snort of laughter.

Over the next few days, Jinghai University's freshmen continued to suffer through the fire and water of military training.

Every day, several students passed out from heatstroke on the field and were carried to the infirmary on stretchers.

Instructor Zhao Tianlong's roars echoed over the south field from morning until night, frightening the freshmen so badly they hardly dared breathe.

Fatty Wang had been roasted charcoal-black, and even a layer of skin had peeled off the back of his neck.

The first thing he did upon returning to the dorm each day was sprawl on his bed and play dead, without even the strength to shower.

Lin Bei, on the other hand, hadn't shed so much as a drop of sweat, thanks to the little bit of Spiritual Power circulating within him.

The oversized camouflage uniform didn't look sloppy on him at all. Instead, it gave him a crisp, fresh appearance.

After several days of baking in the sun, his skin was actually a little fairer and clearer than before military training.

Fatty was so jealous his teeth ached, and he pestered him every day to teach him that "Turtle Breathing Technique."

Driven to distraction, Lin Bei could only make up a couple of lines of a cultivation formula to get rid of him.

He slacked off on the field during the day, then sat cross-legged on his bed to cultivate at night.

In the still of the night, snores rose and fell throughout the dorm.

With his eyes closed, Lin Bei silently circulated his cultivation method.

Yet the longer he cultivated, the deeper his brow furrowed.

The spiritual energy on Earth was outrageously thin.

After absorbing it for more than an entire week, the Spiritual Power in Lin Bei's dantian had only increased by a hair's breadth.

He did have a faster way to cultivate, but he couldn't bear the expense.

He only had ten Low-Grade Spirit Stones right now. Every stone he used meant one less remaining.

Good steel had to be reserved for the blade's edge. Using these things for everyday cultivation was far too wasteful.

"How fucking long am I supposed to cultivate? Until the year of the monkey and the month of the horse?"

Lin Bei sighed helplessly.

"I can forget about relying on my own cultivation. I'll still have to milk rewards out of the system's missions."

But this lousy system was strange, too. Since issuing a mission on the first day of university, it hadn't made a peep for days, as quiet as though it had crashed.

Lin Bei stretched lazily and flopped onto his bed.

"I need to find a way to trigger some plot."

The following evening, military training ended half an hour early.

With the welcome gala scheduled for the next day, the university had specifically left the freshmen some time to rehearse and set up the main auditorium.

Inside Dorm Room 502.

Fatty vigorously rubbed safflower oil into his aching inner thighs as he switched into gossip mode.

"Hey, have you guys checked the campus Tieba? The program for tomorrow's gala is out!"

Liu Chen was sitting at his computer, hammering away at the keyboard as he played a game, and answered without turning his head.

"What's worth looking at? Isn't it just singing, dancing, comedy skits, and choral performances? The same routine every year. Boring as hell."

"This time's different." Fatty capped the bottle of safflower oil and leaned toward the middle of the room with a mysterious air. "That bastard Zhou Zihao signed up! The grand finale-a piano solo!"

Chen Mo looked up from his thick textbook, a trace of surprise crossing his face.

"A piano solo? Didn't he just piss his pants in the cafeteria a few days ago? He still has the nerve to get onstage?"

"See, that's what you don't understand." Fatty slapped his thigh, speaking with the air of a seasoned veteran. "It's called getting back up where you fell. I specifically asked around. Zhou Zihao's been practicing piano since he was little. He passed professional grade ten and even won gold in some city-level competition."

Fatty curled his lip, his tone tinged with envy.

"The talents these rich second generations have had money poured into since childhood really can impress people. All the university's freshmen will be there tomorrow night. He'll sit down at that grand piano, the spotlight will hit him, and he'll be wearing a tailcoat. How are those girls going to remember him shitting his pants? They'll probably all be screaming in the audience."

Fatty made a show of miming playing the piano.

"He's definitely going to get to show off this time. That bastard clearly wants to use this chance to wash away the humiliation of being the Great Emperor of Holy Water."

Liu Chen stared at his computer screen and sighed.

"What can you do? He's rich. Playing piano is a lethal weapon for picking up girls in university. Right, Brother Bei?"

Lin Bei was lying on his bed, playing with his phone.

At those words, he raised his eyebrows without even rolling over.

Piano? Grade ten?

The [Heavenly Sound Zither Heart] lying in the system space surfaced in his mind.

That was an ancient musical inheritance, its zither notes capable of communicating with heaven and earth and calling forth a response from all things.

What was more, this reward from the system came with mastery of a complete range of musical instruments.

Any passage he casually played could instantly reduce Zhou Zihao's so-called "grade-ten piano" to dust.