Ch. 63 - First Taste of Meditation

Ying Shiqian had hyped up the meditation room’s perks. It was like the incense—intended to boost meditation with an ideal environment. Adjustable lighting and sound were the basics. The room had stored soothing audio tracks and even solidified spells for tweaking your state.

Like the Calming Spell, which settles your mind, prepping you for meditation no matter your mood. Or the Mild Hypnosis Spell, which kept random thoughts from derailing you, nudging your mind into a meditation-friendly zone.

There were tons of spell effects—physical state, hormone balance, emotions, even memory and focus. All customizable.

Plus, this area had the highest “dream activity,” whatever that meant. “Dreams” kept popping up with every senior I talked to. Meditation and dreams were clearly linked somehow.

I found the room’s control panel and settled into a comfy position—lying down. Books said meditation didn’t need a specific pose, so if lying felt good, it was fine.

I adjusted so the burner was by my head, the incense’s gentle scent drifting up without being overwhelming.

Eyes closed, I followed the book’s steps, replaying them in my head. Clear your mind, control your thoughts—easy to say, hard to do.

I leaned on the room’s solidified spells for help. They kicked in, but the results weren’t as magical as I’d hoped. Meditation’s entry bar was high.

After my first try, I gave up on cracking it today. Too unrealistic.

The incense was making me drowsy, too.

In the end, with no progress, I started to give up. Just lying here for two hours was its own kind of torture, wasn’t it?

As I relaxed—helped by the spells forcing me to chill—something shifted. Without my conscious effort holding it back, Psi-vision flicked on, just like when I first arrived in this world.

I didn’t stop the sensation as Psi-vision activated, even with my eyes closed. It wasn’t bound by physical sight anymore. Seeing through my eyes was just the default way I processed it—the easiest path to handle Psi-vision’s perspective.

Letting go of visual limits, the inner world unfolded fully in my mind. I’d read about Psi-vision and the distinction between the surface and inner worlds, but most online explanations were just guesses or personal theories. One day, someone posts a video defining the inner world; a week later, another debunks it, hyping their own take. Psi-vision was a transcendence power, a never-fading internet buzzword.

In this state, I felt like I had a 3D, almighty view—way beyond what mental energy sensing was described as. Distances were just data. Objects were pure information. Anything I couldn’t parse turned into a blurry mosaic.

Walls didn’t block me here. I could sense the senior in the next room casually swapping out her incense. Others sat still, likely meditating.

So… what was meditation?

For the first time, I actively explored the information I’d always ignored in Psi-vision. Its data stream was limitless, but my brain wasn’t. Back when I was a baby in this world, I’d learned to filter out useless or unknown info to survive. Otherwise, my head might’ve burst.

Now, I deliberately peeled back those ignored layers, even if it was risky. Ignoring had become instinct, a self-defense mechanism. Fighting that was hard—against my very nature.

I tried for a while, but most of what I uncovered was useless. I couldn’t react to it or understand what it meant.

Still, I kept at it.

Until…

“What… is this?” I muttered.

I’d stumbled on something huge—a space, tiny and fragile, like it could shatter any second. It reminded me of the Witch School, wrapped in the Dome, but smaller, more ethereal.

As I focused, I noticed most of the seniors were enveloped in similar faint spaces. My mind raced, trying to match this to what I knew.

I latched onto a possibility.

“Meditation space!”

The book had mentioned it—a subjective mental space formed during meditation!

Unlike the solid Dome around the Witch School, these spaces felt fleeting, unstable. So, meditation created these mental pockets? Could I make one?

The thought hit me like a spark. Psi-vision was giving me a whole new way to see the world. Maybe being a transmigrator came with perks after all.

But my excitement cooled fast. I scanned myself—no meditation space. Nothing. I had no clue how to create one.

Dead end. It felt like I’d found a useless truth, like saying, “The bigger the banana, the bigger the peel.” True, but pointless.

So… how was I supposed to meditate? Was I just hopeless?

Sure, Ying Shiqian said freakish geniuses shouldn’t exist, but I wanted a taste of that talent. Even with my mental prep, facing my failure stung.

I sighed, hands on hips, trudging back—

Wait. Back where? Wasn’t I lying down, meditating? Hands on hips? Sighing?

I’d done something wild.

Had Psi-vision shown me something insane?

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