Eyes shining with excitement

The current level of technology at the Sanctuary is so advanced that they can now select the most suitable incarnation for themselves in a mythic world by implanting a Mythic Crystal at different stages of a person's life, even through reincarnation. This adaptability is precisely why the Mythic Crystal is considered more of a tool than anything else.

“Director Li, if we apply to Longcheng Academy for a new Mythic Crystal, even if we bypass procedures and request immediate supplies, it would still take until at least tomorrow afternoon. That would delay tomorrow morning’s mythic world descent mission,” a senior advisor at the head of the group reminded her with a frown. “Our Fourth Research Institute must resolve a Martial Arts-level mythic world by tomorrow morning. Otherwise, according to the destructive principles of world interaction, it will affect the mental state of people in the Longcheng region, causing chaos, bloodlust, and violence among the residents. None of us can shoulder such a responsibility.”

“I understand. Just give Bai Zongnan the Mythic Crystal we prepared earlier,” Li Sikui said, lowering her hand from her brow, her expression turning more solemn. “Our main focus at the Fourth Research Institute is Martial Arts-level mythic worlds. This is our duty, and we cannot afford mistakes.”

The three advisors nodded in agreement. After a brief discussion, they turned to leave. There was much to be arranged for the arrival of the mythic world, and everyone was busy with their tasks.

“Even without special preparation, my brother’s talent should be enough for him to do well,” Li Sikui thought, recalling the trial that afternoon. She compared him to other young people she had known—even with family preparation, none had reached her brother’s level.

“Besides…” Li Sikui pressed her lips together. “This mythic world descent is, in itself, a trial.”

…

Bai Zongnan, already asleep in his dormitory, was entirely unaware of the bustle in the Fourth Research Institute that night.

He slept soundly until morning, roused only by the beeping of his alarm clock.

“Half past eight?” Bai Zongnan glanced at the clock in surprise. “Did I really sleep that long?”

He remembered going to bed at half past nine the night before. Now, he had slept for over ten hours. Compared to his previous life—sleeping at one or two in the morning, waking at five or six, then dashing from one variety show set or filming location to another, barely pausing for half an hour—this much rest felt almost unfamiliar.

Just as Bai Zongnan was pulling on his trousers, there came a knock at the door.

“Coming,” he called, draping a towel over his shoulder as he went to open it.

He was greeted by a refined woman in her early forties, tall and elegant—a resident supervisor of the apartment building. She couldn’t help swallowing hard as her eyes lingered on Bai Zongnan’s well-defined chest, six-pack abs, and the V-line revealed above his waistband. Her cheeks flushed crimson; she was clearly flustered.

“Officer Bai, here’s your breakfast. I noticed you hadn’t gone down to the cafeteria, and I worried you’d miss the meal, so I brought you a portion,” the supervisor said, still blushing, her eyes darting furtively over his physique.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Bai Zongnan replied, keeping one hand on the door, ready to close it at a moment’s notice. He was wary—after all, there had been incidents in the past when fans had tried to break into his room.

“One more thing: the Descent Department asked me to tell you to report to the Descent Lab at 9:40. There’s a new mission that requires you and several other officers,” she added, managing to compose herself before quickly turning away. Yet, when she looked back, her eyes glimmered with a soft, almost liquid warmth.

Bai Zongnan closed the door quietly, then washed up, ate breakfast, tidied his appearance, applied some skincare products he’d prepared in advance, and, after making sure everything was in order, headed toward the Descent Department.

Outside, the semi-enclosed training ground echoed with the thuds of fists and feet. As Bai Zongnan passed by, he glanced through the glass to see thirty or forty men and women—some young, some in their prime—training earnestly in uniform, striking at alloy practice dummies with focused determination.

“Their fundamentals are excellent,” Bai Zongnan thought, surprised by the instinctive evaluation that flashed through his mind—an impression left by the experience he’d gained the previous night, when heartbreak had led him to something akin to Wu Song’s memories.

“These are all Martial Arts-level cultivators,” he mused, piecing together what he knew about the Sacred Sanctuary from the information in his mind. From what he’d read online, such cultivators would enter Martial Arts-level mythic worlds to resolve karmic debts for the Heavenly Dao, earn merit, and, based on the soul fragments they retrieved, gain corresponding ‘experience’—including knowledge of cultivation methods and combat. With enough merit, they could ascend in a world ruled by seven great sanctuaries.

In this world, cultivation ranks were divided into Martial Arts, Cultivation, Fantasy, Immortal, and Saint—five tiers. The strength of mythic worlds corresponded to these levels as well.

“Hey, isn’t that Bai Zongnan?” Just as Bai Zongnan was lost in thought, a few young female interns spotted him. Instantly, they rushed over, faces flushed with excitement as their eyes sparkled with adoration.

“Brother, I’m a huge fan! I love the wide-noodle bowls your restaurant serves!”

“Please sign my autograph! I adore you!”

“You’re so handsome! I still have the video of you playing basketball and dancing in overalls on my phone!”

More and more girls gathered, drawn by the commotion. Seeing Bai Zongnan up close, with his striking features and heroic brows, they grew visibly excited—so much so, they nearly lost all composure.

But just as Bai Zongnan was about to respond, a clear, chilly voice rang out from behind the crowd.

“Get back to work!”

It was Li Sikui.