As the rhythm of breathing and cultivation accelerated, Chen Mo felt as if an abyss had opened in his belly. That hunger didn't originate from his stomach but seeped out from deep within his marrow. Just moments ago, he had felt energetic and full of strength, yet he had been practicing the techniques from the Canjuan for less than half an hour when he was already drenched in sweat, his body seemingly drained of its spine, stars dancing before his eyes and swaying as if about to collapse.
Sensing something was wrong, Chen Mo hastily put away the two yellowed remnant scrolls and carefully tucked them into his inner pocket. Without bothering to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead, he stumbled around the dormitory, ransacking boxes and cabinets to find the few hard dry flatbreads he'd hidden under his pillow and the half-bag of fried flour. Regardless of how dry and hard they were, he stuffed them into his mouth ravenously.
But this morsel of food didn't even make a dent in the "abyss." It was as if it awakened a slumbering hungry beast, and the hunger instantly doubled.
Chen Mo gritted his teeth, wrapped his cotton overcoat tightly around himself, and burst through the door into the biting cold wind, rushing toward the forest farm cafeteria.
It was still early, and only a few female Youxue Qingnian (educated youth) assistants were preparing breakfast. When Chen Mo rushed in like a hungry wolf, downing eight large bowls of steaming Baomi Cazi Porridge (corn grit porridge) in one breath and grabbing over a dozen golden crispy Tiebingzi (pan-fried corn cake) to stuff into his mouth, all the girls froze in shock, holding their ladles and staring dumbfounded at this usually quiet Chen family boy.
But this still wasn't enough. Chen Mo's gaze swept across the stove until it landed on a large piece of braised meat left on the edge of the cutting board—it had been specially set aside by the kitchen yesterday, weighing several jin, and looked like meat from a Paozi's (roe deer's) hind leg.
Without a word, he grabbed that piece of braised meat and bit into it, eating through fat and lean, devouring it as swiftly as a sweeping wind until his belly was distended like a round balloon. Only then did he let out a long exhale of turbid air, collapsing onto the bench, too exhausted to move.
"What a demonic technique…" Chen Mo rubbed his bulging belly, feeling the restless heat in his body finally subside, a mixture of fear and shock flooding his heart. "No wonder that old man said this technique must be supplemented with dietary therapy—this is by no means ordinary cultivation, it's clearly trying to starve a person to death…"