“Isn’t this too much of a trap?”
Li Bai nearly felt so frustrated he could spit blood.
Level 9 required 5 free attribute points, so why did level 10 suddenly require 10?
Before, it had been +1, +1 all the way. But here, it suddenly doubled?
The worst part was—it ruined the perfection!
With exactly 20 free attribute points, he should have been able to max out his stamina.
But now, after this twist, he still had 6 points left.
And his stamina was just one level away from being maxed. It left him feeling incredibly uncomfortable.
Even someone without obsessive tendencies would feel tortured by this!
Li Bai shut his eyes and fumbled to close the attribute panel.
Out of sight, out of mind.
At least mentally.
However, the moment he closed the panel, the effects of the upgrades he had just made instantly surfaced!
Li Bai suddenly felt as if countless tiny worms were crawling through his veins. A numbing, swollen soreness spread through his body, making it impossible for him to stand steadily.
“Ah!!!”
He collapsed onto the bed, his body curling and kicking uncontrollably, his face twisted as he howled in pain.
Was this what high-level attribute enhancement felt like?
Back when his stamina increased from levels 1 to 5, he had only felt a warm current flowing through his body.
There had been a slight tingling sensation, but the comfort far outweighed any discomfort.
The same had been true when he increased his strength.
Otherwise, how could he have calmly added points while still passionately entangled with his ex-girlfriend?
He had even made her experience something like an instant evolution…
…
This transformation lasted an unknown amount of time.
Toward the end, Li Bai had passed out from the pain.
When he finally struggled to get up from the bed, he found the sheets completely soaked with sweat.
His body felt sticky, as if something had seeped out of his pores along with the sweat.
He hurried to take a shower.
Under the rush of hot water, Li Bai lowered his head and looked at his body.
There wasn’t an ounce of excess fat.
And it seemed like it had changed drastically.
His muscles had become leaner and more compact.
Especially his calves and thighs—long tendons and streamlined muscle lines.
He looked similar to the athletes he had seen on TV, exuding a raw, primal beauty.
It wasn’t just his appearance.
Li Bai could feel that his heart had become stronger than ever before.
It beat powerfully in his chest, pumping rich blood through his body with every throb.
He had just run 18 kilometers earlier, yet a new desire surged within him.
He wanted to run.
He wanted to get back onto the track.
He even felt that this “new” body could easily handle another full marathon.
Of course, Li Bai suppressed that impulse for now.
Because there was still one last reward left.
Among the basic rewards, besides money and free attribute points, there was also a Basic Chest.
Li Bai had long been curious about it.
What kind of items could come out of this blind box?
A basic chest probably wouldn’t yield anything as good as a Silver or Gold Chest.
It might not even match a Bronze Chest.
But at least it would give him an idea of what kind of items these boxes could contain.
“Could it be some high-tech running shoes that make me run like I’ve got rocket wheels?”
Li Bai guessed randomly before opening the chest.
Perhaps because it was too basic, there wasn’t even a flashy golden animation when it opened.
Inside, there was just a plain card lying quietly.
“What’s this? [Future Luck Stacking Card]?”
Li Bai picked it up, completely puzzled.
After reading the instructions on the back, he finally understood what “luck stacking” meant.
In simple terms, it allowed you to exchange 100 failures in the future for one guaranteed success.
All your luck would be accumulated and used at once.
“So that means I can trade 100 failed lottery attempts for one guaranteed marathon entry?”
Li Bai’s eyes lit up.
If someone overheard him, they would probably think he had lost his mind.
Why trade 100 failed lottery attempts for a marathon entry?
Why not exchange it for winning the lottery jackpot instead?
Millions, even tens of millions!
Wouldn’t that be much better?
“Hmm, not quite right.”
Li Bai shook his head.
“The Jinhai Marathon is too low-tier. Using the [Future Luck Stacking Card] on it would be a waste.”
“I’ll wait. Aren’t most top domestic marathons held in the second half of the year?”
He decided to save the card for a more important race.
…
As if responding to his thoughts—
On Thursday, the first workday after the May Day holiday—
The results for the Jinhai Marathon lottery were announced.
Li Bai checked the app and saw that he hadn’t been selected.
“Is my luck really that bad this time, or has the accumulation already started?”
He shook his head. What was done was done. There was no point dwelling on it.
But since the marathon was so close to home, he still wanted to participate.
Especially after his stamina upgrade—he wanted to test his limits on the racecourse.
So, while idling at work, Li Bai scrolled through his phone, searching for ways to purchase a charity entry.
Suddenly, a WeChat message popped up.
“Did you receive the Jinhai Marathon selection notice?”
—”A Sword’s Chill Illuminates Nineteen Provinces”
It was Liang Manjun.
Li Bai hadn’t changed her contact name yet.
“I did. It was a rejection notice telling me to apply for a refund,” Li Bai replied with a smile.
“Send me your name and ID number.”
“What for?”
“Just send it first!”
Li Bai frowned slightly as he read her message.
He had a vague feeling she wanted to help him secure an entry.
But Li Bai wasn’t someone who liked taking advantage of others.
“Teacher Liang, you’re not planning to buy me a charity entry, are you?”
“If that’s the case, no need to trouble yourself.”
“I’ve already bought one myself. Don’t duplicate it.”
Li Bai told a white lie.
But Liang Manjun saw through it immediately.
“Charity entries don’t even open until tomorrow. Where did you buy one?”
Her single sentence left Li Bai speechless.
“I’m not buying you a charity entry.”
“I have a friend in Jinhai who can register you through a media channel.”
“Stop talking nonsense and send your name and ID number!”
At that moment, Liang Manjun was in the university library preparing her lessons.
She held her phone and waited for a while before finally receiving Li Bai’s information.
“Li Bai, ID: XXXXXXXXXX.”
Born in 1999?
Only 23 years old?
He’s that young?
Liang Manjun felt a bit surprised.
He was three years younger than her.
Yet when they ran together, she had never noticed his age.
Another message popped up shortly after.
“Thank you, Teacher Liang. I’ll treat you to a meal sometime.”
Why did that sound so familiar?
Didn’t he say the same thing last time they went for a massage?
“Don’t just talk big! Say it and actually set a date!”
Liang Manjun shook her head lightly, a faint smile appearing on her lips.
That rare smile from the usually cold beauty—no one knew how many male students in the library it left momentarily dazed.