When Yang Haoran saw the two girls walk into the classroom, both of them smiling, a weight lifted off his heart. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, and a smile spread across his face.
His little sister Yaoyao would be a crucial member of his future harem. She still needed some training, but he could tell she had the natural talent of a seductive vixen—a raw gem waiting for a skilled craftsman to polish it.
Now that the two girls were getting along so well, they had taken a vital first step.
In truth, he had another layer of meaning in mind. His mother and Aunt Shen were also his prey. Once he had them in his grasp, he hoped they would get along just as amicably as Yaoyao and Wan Nu did.
With his worries settled, Yang Haoran pulled a small box from his pants pocket that resembled a makeup compact. Afraid someone might see and embarrass him, he shielded it with his body.
After all, even though it only looked like one on the outside, it was still a bit shameful for a guy to carry something like that.
He opened the box and pinched out a glass vial with two fingers before tucking the box back into his pocket.
The glass vial was about the size of a finger, filled with a colorless, transparent liquid. Under the sunlight, it seemed to shimmer with tiny specks of brilliant light. Yang Haoran figured it was just reflections off the glass and paid it no mind.
But now that he had it out, he was stumped on how to open it. Both ends of the glass vial were rounded, forming a seamless whole with no obvious way to access it.
He was wondering if he should tap one end gently with a wooden stick or a pen to break it when his fingers brushed one end of the vial. With a light twist, the rounded glass section came off like a removable cap.
“So simple,” Yang Haoran said with a wry chuckle. He felt like he’d overcomplicated it. Of course, these glass vials usually had a faint seam; a gentle twist would open them. He hadn’t noticed the seam earlier and thought it was different.
Yang Haoran tilted his head back and drank it down. It had no taste going in, just a cool sensation spreading from his throat downward into his stomach.
“Mom wouldn’t have been scammed, would she? It feels just like an ice-cold soda—doesn’t even taste as good as one.”
He muttered to himself, but the next second, a chill shot straight to the top of his head, making him jolt.
He felt as if his entire head was filled with icy coolness, like frigid gas bouncing around inside his skull. As it spread, his mind grew sharper and clearer. The classroom scene before his eyes seemed to transform into streams of data, etching deeply into his brain.
When he closed his eyes, the classroom image appeared vividly in his mind, as real as if he were seeing it with his eyes open.
In an instant, Yang Haoran was stunned. Wasn’t this exactly the effect of the superhuman pill from the movie [Limitless]?
But then he reconsidered and rejected the idea. In Limitless, the pill let you recall any experience from your past with perfect clarity. This was different.
He could imprint everything he saw into his mind and instantly analyze its principles—but only if he had the relevant knowledge stored there. Without it, he could only etch it deeply for later.
At that moment, Yang Haoran didn’t realize how lightning-fast his thoughts were racing or how unprecedentedly clear his mind had become. Even his shock and surprise at this development felt muted under the sheer speed of his cognition.
His mother’s reminder flashed in his mind: drink one bottle before class, and another when the time was up. That meant it had a time limit, though he didn’t know how long the effect would last.
This wasn’t some supplement—it was straight-up black tech! Yang Haoran muttered to himself, looking utterly dumbfounded.
This period was math class. The teacher was an elderly professor with graying temples surnamed Li, who wore black-framed glasses. He looked old, but he was actually a top-tier lecturer the school had poached at great expense to teach their elite class.
As Professor Li placed his textbook on the lectern, he gave the usual call for everyone to stand and greet the teacher. The response rose like a wave, and the class settled back into their seats. Professor Li adjusted his glasses, wet his finger with saliva to turn the page, and began lecturing at a measured pace.
Yang Haoran listened with rapt attention. Today, Professor Li was covering a new topic: the identities for trigonometric functions.
“Class, the sum of any vector and its opposite is the zero vector. That is, a + (-a) = 0.”
Professor Li wrote it on the blackboard as he explained. “So, if a and b are opposites, then a = -b, b = -a, and their dot product ab = 0.”
Though Professor Li was nearing seventy, his voice remained strong and resonant.
Yang Haoran drank it all in, his eyes shining brighter than ever. He’d never realized learning could be this straightforward.
He understood the points Professor Li made and grasped them effortlessly. His hyperactive brain seemed to break down the formulas, exploring how many variations they could produce when transformed…
As Professor Li delved deeper, incorporating prior knowledge, Yang Haoran started to struggle. He simply hadn’t learned the prerequisites; he lacked the foundation.
But with a quick shift in thinking, he found a solution. If he hadn’t learned it before, he’d learn it now. After listening for a bit, he realized he didn’t even need the teacher. Just reading the formulas in the textbook let him comprehend them fully.
In other words, he could teach himself completely. No sooner said than done—he flipped his textbook back to the earlier pages.
After downing that potion, his focus sharpened noticeably, free from the scattered distraction that had plagued him before.
In three minutes, he had finished reading it.
He didn’t stop there. Without pause, he plunged into the knowledge points of the next chapter.
Math had never felt so straightforward to him before—like the simple 1 + 1 = 2 lessons from kindergarten. When something seemed easy, learning it became effortless, free of any pressure. That ease made him not just willing, but eager to keep going.
After poring over the material nonstop for more than twenty minutes, Yang Haoran finally caught up to the progress of Professor Li’s lecture from that day.
