Chapter 2: Collection
“Dinner time!” The nurse entered from outside, bringing Li Zhen his evening meal.
Dinner was simple: a small bowl of spirit rice congee. The bowl was so tiny that the portion of congee looked pitifully meager.
This wasn’t to deprive Li Zhen; rather, it was because he wasn’t yet a cultivator. Such spirit rice congee couldn’t be consumed in large quantities by someone not trained as a cultivator.
He gulped down the little bowl of spirit rice congee in one sip. As soon as it reached his stomach, it produced a slight warmth before vanishing without a trace. He still felt ravenous.
This shouldn’t have been the case. The hospital had meticulously calculated the portions of spirit rice congee, ensuring they contained enough nutrients for his body’s needs.
But the reality was that this measly portion of spirit rice congee simply didn’t fill him up. He had no idea how he’d manage to endure the entire night on such a paltry amount.
I’ll go see if there’s anything else to buy at the hospital, Li Zhen thought. I don’t want to spend the whole night with an empty belly.
He descended from the bed, cautiously moving his arms and legs to test his range of motion. Only after ensuring everything seemed fine did he step out of the ward.
A corridor stretched out before him. The nurse noticed but didn’t hinder his decision to get up and move around.
Li Zhen followed the corridor downstairs. The layout of this hospital wasn’t much different from those in his previous life, and aided by his memories of the place, he smoothly made his way to the main hall on the first floor.
“Excuse me, please make way!” Several doctors and nurses called out loudly as they pushed a patient through.
Li Zhen glanced at the patient and couldn’t help but gasp.
The patient’s leg was barely hanging on by some tendons, his clothes tattered and stained with blood. As they moved, blood would occasionally drip onto the floor.
Above the patient, multiple medical devices floated in mid-air, sustaining his life.
As the patient approached, Li Zhen felt an urge to grab each of these medical devices, just like he had with the B26 body scanner earlier.
Apart from the medical devices, he sensed something even more enticing coming from the patient himself.
Just then, while turning the corner, the doctors and nurses accidentally bumped into a nearby pillar, trying to avoid Li Zhen and the others.
A small piece of the patient’s torn clothing, along with some blood, fell to the ground. It landed at the base of the pillar, hidden from view in the main hall. No one noticed it—neither the passersby nor the medics rushing to save lives.
But Li Zhen was drawn to that tiny scrap of cloth. For within it lay the source of the powerful spiritual aura he’d sensed.
In the main hall, some individuals had already begun cleaning up the bloodstains on the ground, likely moving towards the pillars in due course.
Li Zhen hesitated; if he bent down to retrieve the small bundle of clothing from the floor, it would undoubtedly draw attention. Moreover, with surveillance cameras throughout the hospital, he didn’t want anyone discovering his actions.
Yet, the allure of the object on the ground was too strong, instinctively compelling him to possess it.
Just as his urge reached a critical point, he felt the fabric of the clothes bunch up and suddenly, the presence of the item vanished entirely.
Dimly, he sensed that the object hadn’t truly disappeared but rather reappeared somewhere within his body.
However, this wasn’t the place for careful examination. He couldn’t afford to buy food right now, so he turned and headed back to his ward.
Lying on the bed in his room, Li Zhen meticulously probed for the location of that item.
Soon, he detected a cubic space about one foot wide within his heart, containing a dark green tree branch suspended in mid-air.
Could I have acquired a System? Li Zhen thought, somewhat incredulous.
He’d never heard of anyone possessing an innate storage space before. In this world, spatial items did exist, but they were far beyond what ordinary people—or even most cultivators—could ever hope to encounter.
He had just checked; even his clothes had been changed, leaving him with only a set of patient’s garments. There were no special items on his person, suggesting that this mysteriously appearing space was inherent to his body.
He continued calling out to the system incessantly, but aside from sensing a cubic meter-sized space, there was still no response.
Suddenly, an inquiry about whether to initiate absorption came from his heart. This wasn’t conveyed through language; it felt more like a bodily instinct, akin to hunger prompting one to eat.
However, unlike typical instincts, the absorption impulse from his heart required confirmation from its master—himself—to proceed.
“Absorb away, I suppose!” Li Zhen didn’t know the value of these dark green branches and was curious to see what effect the space’s absorption might have.
The dark green branch within the space emitted a cyan glow. As if drawn by some force, the cyan light departed from the branch and merged into his heart.
Moments later, the dark green branch disintegrated into powder and vanished from the space.
Li Zhen noticed no immediate changes in his body, but he sensed an ominous yet significant alteration had occurred.
After studying it for a while, he shifted his focus to the space itself, located inside his heart.
In his previous life, Li Zhen had heard of the Buddhist concept: “Mount Sumeru can be contained within a mustard seed without increasing or decreasing its size.” At that time, it was merely a philosophical idea, but now he realized this storage space actually existed.
He took out his consumption card and covered it with the quilt to block others’ view. Unsure if there were cameras in the hospital room, he wanted to ensure no one could observe what he was about to do next.
Thinking about putting the consumption card into the storage space, it disappeared from his hand. Then he felt an additional item inside the storage space - the consumption card.
Next, he tried taking the consumption card back out; once again, everything went smoothly.
Recalling how he’d put the card into the storage space earlier while holding it several meters away, he placed the consumption card beneath the quilt, not touching his body. This time, when trying to store it, nothing worked no matter how hard he tried.
Could it be that I need to see it? Li Zhen thought as he pulled aside the quilt to look at the consumption card.
Even though he could see it now, he still couldn’t place the consumption card into the storage space.
Shaking his head, he concluded that more experiments with different items would likely reveal the patterns governing this storage space.
Li Zhen remembered the dark green tree branch he had consumed. Since his predecessor had only graduated from elementary school, he hadn’t yet encountered such spiritual materials and thus didn’t recognize what type it was.
Based on his assessment, comparing it to the attraction he felt from the B26 model body examination device earlier, this deep green branch was likely of even higher quality than that instrument’s first-grade mid-tier standard.
Of course, this remained just a conjecture; everything hinged on verifying the information about the deep green branch when an opportunity arose.
Like a curious child with a new toy, Li Zhen continuously tested his storage space, gradually feeling a sense of dizziness creeping over him.
He surmised that using the storage space must consume mental energy, leading to his lightheadedness.
Ceasing his tests, he immediately fell asleep.
Unbeknownst to him, the patient he had just rescued was wheeled into the room next door.
The patient remained unconscious, but their wounds had been tended to and treated.
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