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Golden Years

"Once again, it has turned into an old artifact..." 

As Fang Yi completed the recitation of a Daoist scripture, he awakened from his meditation, lowering his gaze to the small string of golden Bodhi seeds in his hand. Indeed, he discovered that the originally grayish-white beads had transformed into a deep crimson hue, and the once prickly serrations on the beads had become extraordinarily smooth. 

"With just one session of empowerment, it should have aged fifteen to twenty years. What if I continue to empower it?" A thought flashed through Fang Yi's mind, prompting him to silently recite scriptures while walking in a circular motion, his right hand deftly rolling the beads between three fingers. 

Approximately an hour later, Fang Yi opened his eyes, and upon inspecting the beads again, he noticed that their color had subtly darkened, and the entire string had contracted slightly, while the outer layer of patina had grown increasingly thick, revealing a sense of the passage of time. 

"Well then, let's leave the beads as they are for now..." 

Fang Yi decided to pause and instead picked up another string made of small leaf red sandalwood. After all, this string of golden Bodhi seeds was intended as a gift for Zhao Hongtao. If he were to age it to a century's worth, it would be difficult to explain later. 

"This time, I will recite the scripture without circulating my vital energy and see if it still empowers the beads," Fang Yi mused, holding the red sandalwood string while reciting the scripture with his eyes open, hoping to witness the beads' transformation firsthand. 

Little did Fang Yi know, as he began to chant, strands of thought energy flowed from his consciousness, circulating within his body. Even without the circulation of vital energy, these thought energies transferred from his hands into the beads. 

The slightly reddish red sandalwood slowly changed color under Fang Yi's watchful gaze, first darkening slightly, then transforming entirely into black, obscuring even the intricate patterns on its surface. 

Moreover, each time Fang Yi's fingers rubbed against the beads, their luster became increasingly gentle, with the process of patina visibly manifesting. By the time he completed the recitation of the scripture, the surface of the red sandalwood string had developed a thick layer of sheen. 

"Reciting scriptures does have an effect..." Fang Yi's eyes sparkled as he switched to another string of beads, eager to test the outcome of circulating vital energy without reciting scriptures. 

After completing a full circuit, Fang Yi examined the beads in his hand and began to comprehend, "It seems my ability is not significantly tied to vital energy. While it has some effect, it pales in comparison to the impact of reciting scriptures on the beads." 

This time, although there was some change in the beads, they merely appeared brighter, akin to the glaze Zhao Hongtao had mentioned, with no substantial transformation. Without the empowerment from his consciousness, the extraordinary ability to imbue the beads with the weight of time had not manifested. 

"Should I try with a different object?" Setting the beads aside, Fang Yi surveyed the simple room he inhabited. The furnishings were new, and aside from a table, there was only one chair. 

"Hmm? This paperweight could work..." Fang Yi spotted a paperweight on the table, recalling that it was something he had brought up from the first floor when crafting talismans. It was made from red rosewood. 

"This object is somewhat large; I wonder if it will suffice?" Fang Yi mused, rising from the bed to grasp the paperweight. Once back on the bed, he settled into a cross-legged position, placing the weight between his legs while gently stroking its surface with his right hand. 

"It works; this paperweight has aged as well..." 

After reciting a scripture, Fang Yi observed that the red rosewood paperweight had transformed from red with black streaks to black with red streaks, a layer of patina emerging on its surface, rendering the entire piece exceptionally beautiful. 

"It seems my ability is not only effective on beads but also on slightly larger objects..." Fang Yi contemplated, yet he remained unaware of what other effects this power might possess beyond accelerating the aging of objects. 

"I wonder if the empowerment during my recitation would induce some change in living beings?" 

A sudden thought crossed Fang Yi's mind, sending a chill down his spine. If the ability to accelerate the passage of time could indeed be applied to humans, could it not cause one to age in an instant? 

"Heaven must possess a benevolent nature and would not grant me such a power, would it?" 

This notion flitted through Fang Yi's mind before he swiftly dismissed it. He would never dare to explore that avenue; after all, the cycle of life and death is governed by the legendary King Yan, and meddling in such matters would be a violation of cosmic order, incurring divine retribution. 

Throughout history, those who could glimpse the secrets of heaven and alter their fate, such as the practitioners of esoteric arts, acted only within the bounds permitted by celestial laws, for they understood the unpredictable nature of fate and the grave consequences of their actions. 

"Perhaps I should continue testing with inanimate objects..." 

After discarding that thought, Fang Yi focused his attention on the solitary chair in the room. However, after half an hour of recitation, he halted, realizing that his empowerment had not affected the chair at all. 

"Could it be that the chair's size is too large?" Fang Yi pondered, persistently experimenting and analyzing. Before long, the first light of dawn began to illuminate the sky, signaling the passage of the night. 

"It seems my recitation can only empower objects that can be manipulated by hand. Each recitation grants approximately ten to twenty years of aging..." 

As he practiced qi cultivation on the third-floor balcony, Fang Yi's mind continued to churn, "There is a saying, 'time gilds the years,' indicating that time indeed enhances the value of accumulated things. Thus, I shall name my ability 'Time.'" 

Fang Yi had perused various Daoist texts and Buddhist scriptures, yet in his recollection, neither tradition seemed to possess a similar ability to accelerate the passage of time. Lacking precedents, Fang Yi decided to bestow a name upon it himself. 

"No wonder ancient sages diligently cultivated their consciousness, striving to strengthen their awareness and delve into the depths of their minds; the depths of consciousness truly hold profound mysteries..." 

Reflecting on the powers that had emerged after the car accident, Fang Yi's thoughts expanded. He could vaguely surmise that the emergence of his abilities was linked to the incident that had drawn his consciousness deep into the recesses of his mind, where countless secrets of humanity lay hidden within the gray mist. 

However, Fang Yi remained unaware that the powers he had gained were intricately connected to the damaged and absorbed kapala from that car accident. 

This kapala was crafted from the skull of a high monk from a millennium ago, containing the accumulated thought energy of that monk's lifetime of cultivation. It was precisely this thought energy that had safeguarded Fang Yi's consciousness, allowing him to emerge unscathed from the depths of his mind; otherwise, he might have become a living corpse. 

Fang Yi also did not realize that within him resided not only the Daoist powers but also the thought energy of Buddhism. 

At present, Fang Yi's situation exemplified the words from the I Ching: "The world converges in different paths; whether one attains Buddhahood or Daoist immortality, the ultimate goal of their cultivation is to uncover the hidden treasures within the human body, granting them extraordinary abilities." 

As the first rays of dawn broke the horizon, Fang Yi inhaled deeply, drawing in a strand of imperceptible purple qi from the east, concluding his morning practice. This cycle had continued for sixteen or seventeen years, with not a single day missed. 

Returning to the second floor, he found the doors of Fatty and San Pao's rooms wide open, both sleeping soundly. However, Fang Yi couldn't help but chuckle at the sight; the two had placed their phones prominently on their bedside tables, clearly having fiddled with them late into the night. 

"These strings of beads cannot be taken outside..." 

Approaching the bedside in his room, Fang Yi gazed at the strings of beads that had been empowered into old artifacts. Feeling a bit perplexed, he retrieved the string intended for Zhao Hongtao and placed the others into a bag, subsequently hiding them in his trunk. 

As for the red rosewood paperweight, Fang Yi took it downstairs and tucked it into a bookshelf filled with stationery supplies belonging to Man Jun, knowing that it wasn't his property. Should Man Jun discover it later, it would not concern him in the least.