The pages of the computer science textbook flipped rapidly as Chen Mo's eyes devoured line after line. Programming logic, language structures, and algorithmic theory—everything flowed smoothly into his mind like a high-speed data stream. His memory, now practically photographic, retained it all with effortless precision.
He'd already set a goal: read 100 technical books, then select a software technology from the Science Library. That would be his first step toward making real money.
By the time he noticed the time, the library lights had dimmed and most of the students had packed up. Only a few lingered, heads down, absorbed in their own studies.
Chen Mo placed the book carefully back on the shelf and turned toward the exit, where Xiao Yu was already waiting.
"Will you be here again tomorrow?" he asked as they stepped out into the cool night air.
"Tomorrow's Monday," she replied, a little reluctantly. "Classes start again. I have a test in my accounting course tomorrow evening."
Her gaze lingered on him for a second longer than usual, a curious look in her eyes.
"What?" Chen Mo tilted his head with a grin. "Do I look more handsome today?"
Xiao Yu laughed softly. Even in the library earlier, she had sensed something different about him, but hadn't asked. Now, under the campus streetlights, the change was even more obvious. There was something about his posture—his energy. Confidence radiated off him.
"You're different from earlier today," she admitted.
"Different in a good way, right?" Chen Mo leaned in, teasing. "Do I give off a strong, safe, manly aura now?"
Xiao Yu giggled, a warm blush spreading across her cheeks. "Maybe just a little…"
"Come on, I'll walk you back."
He reached out and gently took her hand. Her fingers twitched at the sudden contact, but after a moment's hesitation, she didn't pull away. Instead, her face reddened further, a shy smile blooming in the dim light.
They walked together in silence—until Xiao Yu suddenly winced.
"Something wrong?" Chen Mo asked, noticing her discomfort.
"My hand…" she said softly, glancing down.
He followed her gaze and frowned. His grip had left several faint, red marks on the back of her hand.
"Oh crap—I didn't even notice. Sorry, I think I held on too tight," Chen Mo apologized quickly, reaching for her hand again with exaggerated gentleness.
He examined the marks carefully, guilt etched on his face. "Still new to all this… strength control stuff."
Xiao Yu looked at him, confused. "Strength control?"
Chen Mo smiled sheepishly, "Let's just say I've been working out."
Under the soft light, he carefully massaged the sore spot on her hand. His touch was tender, slow—almost reverent. Xiao Yu's heart fluttered, and her blush deepened all the way to her ears.
"It might bruise a little… I'm really sorry," Chen Mo muttered.
"It's okay," she whispered.
They continued their walk, hand in hand—this time with much more care. As they neared the dormitory entrance, she suddenly leaned her shoulder against him, her grip tightening.
Chen Mo glanced sideways.
"I was rude earlier," he said. "But… will you be my girlfriend?"
There was a long pause.
Then, a quiet: "Yeah."
She nodded gently, her head still lowered, but her body leaned closer.
The two walked slowly, like they had all the time in the world. By the time the dorm lights flickered off for curfew, Chen Mo had walked her back safely, then turned to leave with a lightness in his steps.
The Next Morning – Adaptation Begins
Binhai might not be a top-tier metropolis like Donghai, but its charm lay in its peacefulness. Morning sunlight filtered through tree-lined avenues, students jogged in groups, and elderly couples took quiet walks.
Chen Mo pedaled his old bicycle down the road, leaving campus behind and heading straight for the gym nearby.
Yesterday's slip-up—hurting Xiao Yu's hand—had been a wake-up call. The potential development had significantly boosted his strength, but he hadn't yet learned to control it.
If a gentle handhold could bruise someone, what would happen in a real fight?
Inside the gym, the scent of sweat, rubber mats, and cleaning agents hit his nose. The space buzzed with energy and iron music.
As he stepped in, a burly fitness trainer approached him.
"Morning! I'm Dong Li, coach here. First time?" the man asked, muscles bulging under his sleeveless vest.
"Yeah," Chen Mo replied. "Been feeling a bit… energetic lately. Figured it was time to adapt."
Dong Li laughed. "That's what we like to hear. This area's for cardio, that side has the strength machines, and over there is bodybuilding. Got a specific area in mind?"
Chen Mo nodded. "Where's the comprehensive training setup?"
Dong Li blinked. Not the most common request.
"Ah—right this way."
He led Chen Mo to a full-stack station: butterfly arm press, lat pulldown, high pulley, and more.
"I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need help."
"Will do. Thanks."
Chen Mo sat down, adjusted the machine… and cranked the weight to maximum.
256 pounds.
Let's see what this body can really do.
Gripping the handles, he pushed.
One… two… three…
His muscles tensed, veins rising beneath his skin. Ten reps in, sweat beaded on his forehead—not from effort, but concentration. He could've done more. But this wasn't about maxing out—it was about control.
He stepped back, breathing evenly.
The strength was there. Raw, explosive. And it scared him a little.
If he had this kind of power now… what if someone with bad intentions got their hands on this potential development tech?
No. It wasn't ready for the world.
After warming up, he followed the training program from the Science Library. Every muscle had a role. Every motion served a purpose.
Hands, legs, core, spine—nothing was neglected. Not just for strength, but for balance, endurance, flexibility, and precise control.
Then came combat drills.
In one corner of the gym, a long row of punching bags swayed silently.
Chen Mo approached, tightened his gloves, and began.
Slow jabs. Measured kicks. Elbow strikes. Knees. Combos.
BAM. BAM. BAM.
The movements were pulled directly from the Science Library's potential development guide—military-grade close combat. It was as much about rhythm and flow as it was power.
Shu Lao had been right. This wasn't the time to pull out software for profit. His body came first.
What good was wealth if you couldn't defend yourself?
What if someone found out about the Science Library?
He couldn't afford to be weak.
By the time he hit the treadmill for cooldown, he had already trained for two and a half hours straight.
His legs were sore. Arms tight. Shirt soaked.
But he felt amazing.
It was only 9:30 a.m.
Time to shower, change, and get back to class.