Chapter 216: A Gradually Recovering Body
“Besides, those cities up above don’t suffer from the pollution and disruptions that come with seasonal changes. The probability of producing transcendents there is far higher than down here. Unlike the bottom—where even if some lucky soul awakens as a transcendent, the seasonal mists will taint their transcendent circuits, so their starting level is low, and they basically have no future to speak of.”
“That’s why the Radiant Academy withdrew from the bottom in the first place—because for several years straight, they couldn’t recruit a single student from down here.”
It was as if Xiaoman had opened a floodgate, and she kept talking nonstop.
“When I was little, they used to play promotional films about the upper cities on TV. They encouraged kids to work hard, become transcendents, get selected, and go live a good life up above. Now they don’t even air those kinds of promos anymore.”
Xu Zhi kept nodding as she listened. The topic had drifted a bit, but there were still two whole hours. Xiaoman would eventually say something useful… right?!
For quite a while after that, Nurse Xiaoman went on ranting about how the bottom had been abandoned, and all the things the upper levels had done that made the bottom acutely aware of that abandonment.
Her tone carried a hint of indignation. She probably couldn’t understand why the bottom had to bear the brunt of the seasonal changes on behalf of the upper levels, only to be cast aside in the end.
After talking for a long time, Xiaoman finally realized it herself. “Oh—I think I went off topic.”
Xu Zhi let out a long sigh in her heart. Sister, you finally noticed!
On the surface, though, she looked utterly tolerant. “It’s fine. I actually like listening to you talk about these things.”
Xiaoman chuckled. “You Lamp-attribute folks really are good-tempered. If it were Zhuang Xu, he’d have chased me off already.”
Xu Zhi’s smile grew even more sincere.
“Anyway, I’ve never been to the upper levels myself. But I’ve heard there are tons of books up there—you can learn a lot. There are also lots of transcendents, and all kinds of specialized academies for them. Ones built by financial conglomerates, ones jointly built by city governments and the military, ones run by the Radiant Academy, by the Celestial Heart Association… and by Gods’ Heavy Industries.”
When she mentioned that last name, Xiaoman unconsciously lowered her voice.
“Gods’ Heavy Industries? What’s that?” Xu Zhi seized the opening at just the right moment.
“That’s a… gathering place for lunatics! It’s full of madmen obsessed with all kinds of research. I’ve heard they’re messing around with some really heretical stuff. Anyway, if something especially bizarre happens, chances are it was Gods’ Heavy Industries behind it.”
Xiaoman’s words immediately made Xu Zhi think of that group of fanatics—but she soon dismissed the idea. Xiaoman’s tone held more wariness and caution than outright disgust or fear.
If she had to put it into words, it was like the difference between how a normal person looks at someone with strange behavior, versus how they look at a serial killer.
“Do people actually go to schools they run?” Xu Zhi asked.
Xiaoman put her phone down and leaned in close, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “A ton of people! I’ll tell you a secret—Zhuang Xu studied at the Gods’ Heavy Industries Academy on the sixth level before!”
“I heard he originally went to a school run by the Celestial Heart Association, but later transferred to Gods’ Heavy Industries. Really strange—why leave such a good place like Celestial Heart just to go to a lunatic school?”
Xu Zhi smiled. “Maybe Doctor Zhuang had his own reasons.”
Xiaoman shook her head. “What reasons could he have? He still got expelled in the end. Most likely he messed something up and got kicked down to the bottom, where he ended up opening an underground clinic.”
That sounded like quite a story. But Xu Zhi didn’t press further. Instead, she smoothly changed the subject. “All of this sounds pretty interesting. Anything else fun to talk about?”
Xiaoman didn’t start another game. She rested her chin on her hand and thought for a moment. “Hmm… there’s also city rankings. Do you know about those?”
Xu Zhi shook her head.
“Our city ranks really high—basically stable in the top five. The rankings happen once every five years, and every time it’s a huge event. Even us at the bottom can watch some footage of the upper levels and other cities on TV.”
“If you’ve got time, you can rent some recordings from those years. It’s a pain to explain!”
“Why do cities need to be ranked?” Since Xiaoman clearly didn’t feel like elaborating, Xu Zhi didn’t push and instead asked the question she cared more about.
Was it something like ranking cities in the Federation by GDP?
“Because the higher the ranking, the more Lost Land entrances a city gets to occupy,” Xiaoman replied as if it were obvious.
Another unfamiliar term popped up.
Seeing the confusion on Xu Zhi’s face, Xiaoman kindly continued. “I’ve never been there myself, but everyone knows the Lost Land is a very mysterious place. Most attribute cores come from the Lost Land. I’ve heard there are tons of transcendent resources and materials there—and supposedly, high-level transcendents have to go to the Lost Land if they want to advance further!”
“But there are very few entrances to the Lost Land. So if you want more transcendent resources, you need to control more entrances.”
Wouldn’t that mean high-ranking cities just snowball into total monopolies?
Rules like that were probably proposed jointly by those cities themselves.
Still, Xiaoman’s description made Xu Zhi think of one place.
Midnight and the Forest.
“The Lost Land is also extremely dangerous. I remember it was about twenty years ago—our city lost a very important figure there. The whole city mourned for three days.”
“But who it was exactly, we people at the bottom don’t know. Anyway, it doesn’t have much to do with us. Bottom-dwellers don’t even have the qualifications to go to the Lost Land.”
Xiaoman sounded fairly indifferent about it. After all, places like the Lost Land were arenas for the people up above. From the day she was born, she’d been cut off from that world.
“Alright, time’s up.”
She checked the time and brought their idle chat to an end.
Still lost in thought, Xu Zhi belatedly realized that the intense itching from earlier had almost completely faded. The medicine had probably been fully absorbed.
She tried clenching her fist—and found that she could actually muster a bit of strength.
As expected of such a powerful remedy. The effects were fast.
Not just her hands—her shattered body and torn meridians had all made remarkably encouraging progress.
At this rate, the time before she could get out of bed would be at least twice as fast as she’d originally expected.
Beyond that, there were some other special changes happening to Xu Zhi as well.
Her brows lifted with surprise, because she felt an “odd sensation” in her throat.
That familiar feeling—like a fish bone stuck in her throat that didn’t quite hurt.
It was that extremely low-presence retainer of hers, the only one still remaining by her side—no, inside her body—aside from the little aberrant one.
Unfortunately, although she could sense the existence of [Cursed Speech], she couldn’t use it. Activating Cursed Speech required her own transcendent energy.
Xu Zhi sighed inwardly. It seemed that restoring her transcendent energy had become an urgent priority.
Still, with her body’s repair process having taken a huge step forward, she could ask Zhuang Xu for a bottle of coagulant and try giving the little aberrant some blood once she got home, to restore a bit of its vitality.
