Chapter Six: It's Hard to Write Without Earning the Golden Touch

Wang Lei updated "Swiftcast," marking his first update in two years—and, notably, the first time he had taken the initiative to do so. After listening to Wang Lei’s “new song,” Ma Dongmei was deeply moved. Her brother Lei, whom she regarded as capable of anything, had been in a slump for two years. To be honest, sometimes Ma Dongmei felt her heart was about to break; she hated seeing her brother Lei live in such pain.

Now, the invincible Lei was back.

Thanks to her long arms, Ma Dongmei had the advantage when taking selfies—it was far more convenient. Both she and Wang Lei came equipped with heights and arm spans that made them their own “selfie sticks.”

Quickly unlocking her phone, Ma Dongmei wanted to post the photo before her brother Lei could object. Truthfully, she worried he might blame her, given that for the past two years, he had refused any interaction with the online world.

Just as she finished posting and was about to close her phone, Wang Lei asked for it. Under her anxious gaze, he logged into his long-neglected Swiftcast account, posting the very same photo.

Wang Lei had destroyed his own phone long ago, unwilling to have any contact with the outside world. He’d delivered a “Little Li Flying Dagger” to it, sending it in a perfect arc for a close encounter with the ground.

Since he had decided to face the harsh realities of life head-on, Wang Lei no longer intended to be a “ghost.” Perhaps his actions would attract criticism, but he didn’t care anymore—he’d already died once; what was there to fear? Besides, declaring his “ownership” of Ma Dongmei early on could ward off a host of troubles.

On this ordinary summer night, Wang Lei slept peacefully. The ease in his soul naturally allowed his body to relax, while many—including Ma Dongmei—lay awake.

Ma Dongmei couldn’t sleep because she was too excited, and she felt a bit embarrassed as well. Though she never shied from expressing her affection for Wang Lei among friends, she was just past twenty—a “young lady”—and this was her first time so openly showing her love.

Outside, many volleyball fans who followed Ma Dongmei were shocked to see “Big Mei” with a certain man in the photo. Some recognized Wang Lei, but most assumed he was just an athlete from the Yangtze River Club.

Summer dawns early in Jinling; by four in the morning, the sky was already bright. Wang Lei awoke from deep sleep, refreshed and energetic. The merging of two souls brought him far more than experience alone. His body, though nearly ruined, was now powered by an extraordinarily strong spirit, allowing Wang Lei to fully control it.

The human body is an extraordinarily complex system. Viewed materially, it is governed by hormones; but from an idealist perspective, it’s profoundly shaped by the spirit. Wang Lei now found himself in a purely idealist state—after all, soul transmigration had happened; could anything be more idealist?

He’d slept only about five hours, but the quality of his rest was high, and thanks to the beef set meal Ma Dongmei had brought home, he felt excellent upon waking.

He wandered into Maimei’s room for a look—the girl was still sprawled deep in sleep, her long legs boldly draped over the bed’s edge. The custom extra-long bed sometimes failed to accommodate the “little” girl’s exuberant sleeping posture.

Leaning on a single crutch, Wang Lei moved awkwardly, afraid to wake the sleeping girl. Quietly, he closed her door again.

Though walking was difficult, Wang Lei tiptoed into the kitchen. The kitchen was well-equipped, though there weren’t many ingredients left. He boiled some plain porridge and eggs—the best he could manage. He hoped this simple breakfast would touch Maimei.

In their cozy two-bedroom apartment, a small balcony at the end of the living room housed some exercise equipment for the girl’s extra training at home.

To recover quickly, Wang Lei had already devised a rehabilitation plan. It wasn’t complicated, since his options were limited: simple strength and aerobic exercises, tailored to his current state.

But during these basic workouts, Wang Lei noticed something unusual about his body. He could clearly sense his muscles moving; even the specific state of each muscle was abstractly mapped in his mind.

This sensation made Wang Lei wonder if he’d become like those miraculous protagonists in web novels from the Earth dimension—his body, fully digitized.

Body digitization shouldn’t be taken lightly; for humans, it’s an incredible state. In reality, few people know their bodies inside out—strength, agility, speed, these are all abstract concepts.

But if a person truly became digitized, they would perceive every momentary change in their body, every movement, every meal, every day’s activity—all faithfully reflected in shifting numbers. For a human, especially an athlete, the implications are obvious.

If this digitization were comprehensive, injuries would cease to be a problem, since the data would merely show a drop in values.

Wang Lei’s body had now entered a kind of fuzzy digitized state. His spiritual attributes were extraordinarily strong, allowing him to perceive changes in every part of his body. The overlay of soul and experience had further developed his brain; with conscious planning, he could simulate a preliminary digitized model of his body in his mind.

He was vaguely aware of these changes himself. His mental state was remarkable, but he had yet to fully understand the vast transformation of his body—everything was just beginning.

When he sensed his body had reached its limit, Wang Lei gradually stopped exercising. He could clearly tell that pushing further would cause damage to certain parts—though minor, repeated strain would eventually affect his future life. Having been granted a second chance at life, Wang Lei felt he must cherish it all the more.

Just after six, Ma Dongmei woke from deep sleep. The groggy “little” girl scratched her head as she shuffled out of her room, only to be jolted awake by the sight of her brother Lei, balancing on a crutch and holding a bowl of porridge. She knew—her brother Lei had never done anything like this, not even two years ago.

“Come, have a little to eat. I’ll go buy some groceries later. You don’t need to eat at the base anymore.”

“Mhm, from now on, I’ll eat whatever you cook.”

Ma Dongmei didn’t know how her brother Lei’s cooking would turn out, but she felt that no matter how bad it tasted, she could eat it so long as he made it. She liked seeing him like this—a “living man.” Yes, much better. For the past two years, she sometimes felt her brother Lei was almost “dead.”

“You’ll still need to eat at the base—after all, their nutrition is more balanced and the food is safe. You’ll report to the national team in September, so diet is crucial. Don’t worry about me; I’ll take care of myself, won’t I?”