Thunderbolt Star Saga

Challenge (Part 1)

Cultivation, sleep, physical training, coffee shop shifts, ancient text organization.

After concluding Gu Shuling's tutoring sessions, Lin Fan's routine regained its cyclical rhythm. The coffee shop's glass door framed occasional lovers' quarrels or drunken antics—fleeting spices to his plain congee existence.

Every Thursday dusk found Gu Shuling leaning against the training hall's metal doorframe with textbooks clutched to her chest. When Lin Fan completed his final combat drill, the ponytailed girl would bounce forward: "Dad made oxtail stew tonight." Though aware of her act-first-explain-later tactics, Lin Fan always followed through campus twilight—the bookstore owner's medicinal broths consistently amplified his nightly cultivation.

Academic tutoring showed progress. When Gu Shuling solved her first complete linear equation, her fountain pen tore through scratch paper. Lin Fan noted her crimson-tipped ears and swallowed the "eighth-grade curriculum" comment.

As late autumn deepened, the research institute's gilded invitation appeared in his locker. Professor Xu's bold calligraphy pierced the stationery: "November 29th Auditorium - Cosmic Exploration Symposium." Rubbing the embossed edges, Lin Fan realized the girl who'd haunted the rare books section hadn't been seen in weeks.

Dawn on November 29th brought north winds slapping dead leaves against windows.

Lin Fan pushed through the training center's frosted doors in beige down jacket, immediately greeted by familiar mockery: "The national treasure arrives!" Gu Shuling lounged by punching bags, crimson turtleneck accentuating alabaster neck, denim-clad legs crossed—a tableau drawing sidelong glances from trainees.

"Double-header tomorrow, Coach Lin." She flicked his schedule. "Morning Elite Challenge matches, afternoon academic debut." Suddenly closing the gap, citrus and sweat swirling in the air between them: "Lose, and I'll tell everyone you made me memorize pi to three decimal places."

Lin Fan's retreat met cold locker metal. Last night's predawn cultivation had pushed Thunder Armor energy past 1600 Fa thresholds. Now he sensed the girl's swirling sand-system energy—dark tidal currents suggesting she neared third-level Armor Warrior status.

Upstairs, gravity chamber equipment thudded. Gu Shuling gripped his sleeve: "Red Zone fighters specialize in energy suppression." Her fingertip traced arcs on his palm: "Break their formations with spiral charges."

Twilight campus paths crunched under sycamore leaves. Watching the bouncing silhouette ahead, Lin Fan recalled dawn lightning dancing in his palms. When she turned to hurry him, he secretly condensed energy into arcing sparks that illuminated falling foliage.