On the Day of the Monthly Exam, I'm Going to Have a Good Time.

A thunderstorm that was not part of the weather forecast fell from the ceiling of the examination room. The invigilator thought that the transformer had exploded, and Lu Yan thought that he was dead - but the grade ranking and the first ray of spiritual energy hit him on the head at the same time. There are less than a hundred registered practitioners in the city, and there is only one rule: don't let mortals notice. So to overcome the tribulation, I had to choose early reading, monthly exams, and parent-teacher meetings when no one noticed. The spiritual stone was hidden in the half-price gift of the second cup at the milk tea shop, and the spiritual vein was pressed under the playground. The key is that he has no vision of his dantian, no inheritance from his ancestors, only a fragmentary handbook dug out from the mezzanine of an old residential building, and the formulas are like inscriptions that always lack conditions. It takes three days for others to open their meridians, but it takes thirty days for him. But every step was based on incorrect deductions from the question book, using space geometry to imagine the direction of the meridians, and using chemical balance to calculate the proportion of spiritual materials—it was calculated out of hand. Until he discovered that the old spiritual vein under the playground was about to collapse, and an old monk who used the cram school as a cover was planning to drain it. The only bargaining chip in his hand was the unfinished deduction notes.