Gu Xiao blinked, then pinched his thigh hard.
The sharp pain told him this was not a dream.
The world had truly changed.
Not turned upside down, but spread out in a way that surpassed the limits of physics:
He was clearly facing his desk, his gaze fixed on the wall directly ahead, yet at the same time he could see the sparrow outside the window on his left beating its wings, and the spider in the corner of the wall on his right climbing upward.
An almost terrifying panoramic field of vision unfolded, nearly 270 degrees of space taken in at a glance.
Under his extraordinary ability to capture motion, the sparrow’s flight path was slowed down infinitely.
Every beat of its wings, every faint tremor of its feathers, appeared as if in slow motion, every detail laid bare.
Just as Gu Xiao was about to carefully study this sudden ability, a sharp buzzing abruptly rang beside his ear.
The next second, that nearly divine field of vision that had just unfolded began to contract rapidly.
The originally crystal-clear 270-degree “ultra-HD screen” seemed to be compressed by a pair of invisible hands, leaving behind only the normal range of vision directly in front of him.
The speed at which things changed also returned to normal. The sparrow outside the window shot out of his sight with a whoosh.
The visual senses that had been as precise as an instrument moments ago were dulling at an astonishing speed.
All at once, the room returned completely to its original state.
The desk was still the desk, the wall was still the wall, as if everything just now had been nothing more than a dream.
Yet the swelling pain surging from the depths of his brain clearly refuted that.
At this moment, Gu Xiao felt as though his head were expanding violently, countless vast and chaotic pieces of visual information crashing madly through his mind.
“Hiss… this is trying to kill me.”
He sucked in a breath of cold air and pressed both hands hard against his temples.
Only after a long while did the overwhelming swelling pain gradually subside like a receding tide, leaving behind only a deep fatigue that refused to fade.
Gu Xiao slowly released his hands and slumped against the back of his chair, his face pale as he looked at Xiao Jiu, who was still intently gnawing on pine nuts atop the desk. He gave a helpless, bitter smile.
“This three-no golden finger… can I return it?”
……
……
Noon.
Sunlight streamed through the window, warming the desk.
Gu Xiao, who had recovered his energy, pulled a blank slip of paper from the drawer and spread it out before him. He picked up a pen and began writing nonstop.
A few minutes later, the once-blank slip of paper was already filled with densely packed words and arrows, listing key points of analysis regarding that strange “golden finger”:
Trigger conditions, ability manifestations and limitations, controllability, possibility of evolution…
Xiao Jiu watched this scene curiously from inside the plastic box, its two front paws pressed against the wall of the box, its glossy black eyes blinking.
Gu Xiao paid no attention to the little creature’s gaze. Immersed in his own world of deduction, he combined his brief earlier experience with comparison, analysis, and elimination, one point at a time…
Another half hour passed before he stopped writing. He carefully read through the slip covered in conjectures from beginning to end, confirming that there were no major omissions.
“【Trigger Conditions】:
First appeared after successfully establishing clear communication with Xiao Jiu. Highly likely to be related.
—Long-term observation required.
【Ability Manifestations and Limitations】
Ultra-wide-angle vision and dynamic vision confirmed.
Consumption is enormous, accompanied by intense side effects: headache, fatigue, information overload. Typical case of ‘powerful skill, high mana cost.’
—Repeated practice needed for detailed confirmation.
【Controllability】
Completely passive activation, and quickly loses control.
—Active control must be achieved as soon as possible!
【Possibility of Evolution】
Eye temperature higher than normal, memory noticeably improved, slight swelling pain in muscles throughout the body…
—No external mutation for the time being, but caution is still required.”
His thoughts gradually became clearer.
Gu Xiao fixed his gaze on the item labeled 【Controllability】 and drew a heavy circle around it with his pen.
After a brief silence, he took a deep breath, put down the pen, straightened his posture, and looked at the wall directly ahead, trying to focus his attention on his eyes.
Very soon, that heat deep in his eyes appeared once more.
The edges of his vision began to melt and expand, and the world in his eyes became clear again.
Only this time, before that vast and chaotic flood of visual information could surge into his consciousness and cause confusion, Gu Xiao decisively closed his eyes.
The images vanished, and darkness descended.
But that scorching sensation did not immediately recede. Instead, it throbbed behind his closed eyelids.
From deep within his brain came the familiar dull pain, like needle pricks.
Gu Xiao did not panic. While maintaining steady breathing, he silently counted his breaths in his heart.
This was a meditation method he had learned from watching short videos in his previous life. Count “one” while inhaling, “two” while exhaling, cycle up to ten, then reset.
A few seconds later, the scorching sensation behind his eyes gradually weakened, and the stabbing pain in his brain also subsided.
Only then did Gu Xiao slowly open his eyes.
The world had returned to normal. No ultra-wide angle, no slow motion, only the ordinary wall directly ahead.
He let out a long breath and collapsed into his chair, feeling as though he had just walked along the edge of a cliff.
Still, as long as he could control it, that was good.
After a short rest, Gu Xiao sat up straight again.
Since he had roughly grasped the technique for switching it on and off, the next step was to test the limits of his current body.
He aimed his gaze at the wall clock and focused his attention once more.
The familiar scorching sensation arrived as expected.
This time, mentally prepared, Gu Xiao calmly observed the process of the ability activating:
The edges of his vision began to blur and melt, then stretched outward like a camera lens being pulled wide. The 270-degree ultra-wide field of vision unfolded once more, and the movement of the wall clock’s second hand instantly turned into slow motion… He could even clearly see the tiny scratches on the metal hand.
“One, two, three…”
He silently counted in his mind.
When he counted to “30,” his temples began to throb; at “40,” needle-like pain came from the back of his head; at “52,” a powerful wave of nausea surged straight up to his throat.
Gu Xiao let out a muffled groan and decisively closed his eyes.
In the darkness, the afterimage still lingered on his retina for a moment, like an overexposed photograph.
He skillfully began meditative counting until all the discomfort gradually faded.
His current limit was 52 seconds.
Opening the notes he had just recorded, he wrote this number after “duration,” then added a note beside it:
—Accompanied by progressively intensifying headache and nausea.
For the rest of the afternoon, Gu Xiao repeated this painful process.
Again and again, he activated the ability, recorded its duration, and sensed the changes in its side effects.
The notes on the desk grew increasingly detailed.
By the time the setting sun slanted westward, Gu Xiao finally put down his pen and rubbed his swollen, aching temples.
After repeated testing, he reached several key conclusions:
First, the duration of the ability was directly related to mental fatigue. In optimal condition, it could last around 73 seconds.
Second, repeated use would cause diminishing effects, while the side effects would also accumulate. After using it three times in succession at most, he would have to rest for a long period.
Third, the ability could not be used in a dark environment.
Fourth, this golden finger needed a name. “Spirit Vision” seemed like a decent choice.
……
……
“It’s even harsher than I imagined.”
Gu Xiao gently rubbed the corner of his forehead, feeling bitter.
He glanced at the wall clock. There were still five hours before Wang Zimo got out of school.
He did not dare sleep, and he had no energy to study, so he got up and made himself a bowl of egg noodles.
Cooking was one of the few hobbies he and the original owner of this body had in common.
Unfortunately, there were not enough seasonings, and the only ingredients left were two eggplants. Otherwise, he would have at least made himself three dishes and a soup.
Carrying the steaming bowl of noodles, Gu Xiao went to the living room. Somewhat awkwardly, he turned on the television and browsed through the current TV programs.
In 2002, reruns of Meteor Garden and Romance in the Rain dominated television screens; Young Justice Bao II was of decent quality as well, but its ratings were far inferior to the first season…
After flipping through channel after channel, he finally stopped on Kangxi Dynasty starring Chen Daoming.
For no other reason.
The romance dramas of this era were eye-searing.