The Thirty-Fifth Scene: Pregnant at a Glance

The process of studying runes, which many found unbearably tedious, became engaging for Sang Sang. Sometimes, merely altering the order of identical combinations produced vastly different effects; sometimes, different combinations yielded the same result. It was a marvelous world, the deeper she delved, the more she sensed its vastness—a lifelong pursuit of knowledge.

Sang Sang paused her exploration of all runes except those related to physical techniques, as the remaining body of knowledge was still immense. She narrowed it down to internal energy, finally focusing solely on runes and diagrams concerning the operation of internal energy. Even this subset contained over a million entries.

Everyone’s internal energy was unique.

Even energy of the same attribute, refined by different people, resulted in internal energy with distinct properties.

Runes could never be tailored to every individual's variations. Even if they could, the sheer volume of knowledge would leave a person wandering forever at the threshold.

Sang Sang abandoned runic variations for individuals, instead exploring the diagrams representing known internal energy routes. She then broke down these diagrams into stages according to the energy’s passage through various acupoints during refinement, referencing basic rune vocabulary. After dissecting the entire process of refining internal energy, she freely recombined it and conducted simulated experiments on the Star Web, observing the outcomes.

Randomly combining the internal energy refinement process was a captivating endeavor. These simulations often sparked inspiration in Sang Sang, enabling her to invent several attack skills.

For example, after controlling someone with her abilities, without altering their internal energy flow, she could leave a rune group in a specific area. As the person refined their internal energy, she would unknowingly siphon a portion away—not much, but a little adds up over ten days or half a month. Eventually, the rune group would melt seamlessly into the whole, leaving no trace, while the siphoned energy would congeal into a core. Its location determined whether it became a bomb or a surprise.

“What are you researching?” Bo Ya had noticed Sang Sang hadn’t started writing for days; instead, she spent hours on the Star Web. Though he trusted Sang Sang wouldn’t waste time on frivolous games, the myriad child-targeted entertainment options and the epidemic of severe internet addiction among minors prompted him to ask.

Without turning her head, Sang Sang replied, “The influence of runes on internal energy.”

Bo Ya’s concerned smile froze. “Still studying runes? Don’t you find it tedious?”

Sang Sang’s eyes sparkled. “How could it be tedious? The study of runes has been organized and perfected by predecessors—I’m just confirming their conclusions through experiments. Besides, by combining basic runes like forming words and sentences, I can create diagrams to obtain the skills I desire. What’s more interesting is that changing the order of combinations yields entirely different answers… It’s a pity I can’t experiment on real people. The Star Web can’t fully simulate my gift, so the results might be inaccurate.”

“Another madwoman, just like Alan.” Bo Ya rubbed his forehead, his face full of disbelief that his student could find runes interesting, yet reality struck him hard. Watching Sang Sang’s animated expression, he gently coughed to interrupt her excited report. “Real-person experiments aren’t possible, but I have the laboratory your teacher used when studying runes. The simulation assistants are identical to real people in every way except for lacking a soul, and their cultivation levels can be set—very convenient.”

“Wonderful!” Sang Sang jumped up. “Teacher, teacher, let me use the lab! I need to verify my creative concepts. I plan to add an energy siphoning point along the route of internal energy operation. Which location is best? The brain? Make someone dull or unable to lie? That’s common enough. Or maybe eyes, ears, nose, mouth? Blindness, deafness, anosmia, ageusia—not interesting. Or the bladder? Add a water absorption rune to cause frequent urination or diarrhea? No, too disgusting… Ah, I’ve got it.”

Bo Ya listened with great interest, seeing Sang Sang’s fist tap her palm, and asked, “What did you think of? I think making people unable to lie sounds fun—add some pheromone guidance and stage a mass confession. The grudges and dramas between the children would be a highlight of any reality show.”

Grudges and reality shows? What on earth was he talking about?

Sang Sang was momentarily speechless, realizing Bo Ya’s inner world or aesthetic wasn’t as refined as his outward appearance.

Bo Ya cleared his throat. “Ahem, just a suggestion. Ultimately, it’s up to your own ideas.”

Sang Sang nodded knowingly, pretending not to hear his suggestion. “I intend to set the point in the uterus. For those without one, let the energy coalesce and form one. She conjured the growth of a fetus with her hands. The energy core’s shape will vary with the host, requiring the addition of life energy, synchronized heartbeat and pulse. To deceive their awareness, I must prevent any urge to cut their belly open, and fool medical equipment. Should I use an ignore protocol or add a reality-distortion rule? The cycle will be forty days, matching the gestation period in low-level civilizations. When time is up, the energy core won’t explode but will dissolve, blending into the body to soothe the recipients after their shock. Teacher, how does this concept sound?”

Bo Ya touched his own abdomen and shivered. “Don’t you think this might cause chaos?”

“Would it?” Sang Sang tilted her head. “Surely it won’t be worse than mass confessions or revenge. In the end, everyone benefits—it’s just a prank. The question is how to maintain the suspense of false pregnancy until the very end. High-level civilizations have too many methods; with my abilities, it’s hard to fool them.”

Bo Ya took out a small green bean. “I have a seed from a failed elf gestation. Once activated, it emits life signals, undetectable by instruments, and can fool most checks by experts at the profound level.”

Sang Sang hadn’t expected Bo Ya, who had just been worried, to become an accomplice. She asked tentatively, “What if they consult someone above the profound level?”

“Let me think… Maybe the leaves or bark from the World Tree would work better…” Bo Ya frowned, deep in thought as if pondering some philosophical question.

Sang Sang’s mouth twitched. “Perhaps I could hide a message inside, asking those who discover the truth to help keep it secret. Uncle Sena said this is just a game among children—no danger, only a fright, and adults shouldn’t interfere, right?”

“Excellent idea!” Bo Ya nodded. “I can teach you how to embed hidden messages.”

Back and forth, the two discussed and finalized the concept for their creative exhibition, exchanging silent glances.

Bo Ya’s ears twitched, then he calmly and elegantly opened a door. “The lab is this way. Just inform the AI for assistant settings. When the diagram is ready and you begin drafting, call me—I’ll teach you how to activate the elf seed and embed hidden messages.”

With a simulation assistant, things were indeed easier than on the Star Web. At least, there would be no errors when using her gift. Once she identified a rough pattern, she could add her gift to the internal energy when drafting the experimental work, and further refine the diagram as her gift automatically completed it within the piece…