At six o'clock Saturday morning, Yinuo stood at the entrance of a twenty-four-hour convenience store.
The storefront wasn't large, squeezed between two residential buildings. Several of the neon tubes on the sign were already broken, appearing dim in the morning light. Through the glass door he could see neatly arranged shelves inside, and behind the cash register a middle-aged woman who was yawning.
Yinuo pushed the door open, and the bell on the door made a crisp sound.
"Hello, I'd like to ask if you're hiring part-time workers?" he asked.
The middle-aged woman raised her head and looked him up and down for a few seconds. Her eyes were somewhat puffy, and she wore light makeup on her face that couldn't conceal her exhausted expression.
"Student?"
"Yes."
"Have you done part-time work before?"
"No."
The woman frowned, as if considering. Finally, she took out a form from under the cash register and handed it to Yinuo.
"Fill in your basic information. Can you come both Saturday and Sunday?"
"Yes."
"Morning shift is six AM to noon, eighty yuan a day. Evening shift is six PM to midnight, one hundred yuan a day. Which do you choose?"
Yinuo thought about it. For the morning shift he would need to get up before five, leave home around four-thirty. This meant the meditation training would have to be compressed to half an hour, or simply canceled. For the evening shift, training time could be guaranteed, but it would occupy his study time at night.
"Evening shift." He ultimately chose this. Studying could be made up at other times, but once the continuity of training was interrupted, the effectiveness would be greatly reduced.
The woman nodded: "You can come to work tomorrow. Bring your student ID and parental consent form. Minors doing part-time work must have a guardian's signature."
Yinuo took the form, filled in the information, and returned it to the woman. He left the convenience store and walked on the road home. The sky had already completely brightened, and there were more and more pedestrians on the street. He looked at the time on his phone—seven-fifteen. Today's training plan wasn't finished yet. He needed to find a place to continue practicing blindfolded walking.
The small park had too many people at this time, not suitable. Yinuo thought about it and decided to go to school. The school on weekends was very quiet, with few people on the playground or in the teaching building—perfect for using this time to train.
He changed direction and walked toward school. Fifteen minutes later, he stood at the school's side gate. The old man in the guard room was reading a newspaper. Yinuo showed his student ID and smoothly entered the campus.
The playground was empty, with only a few students who had gotten up early to jog. Yinuo went around the playground and walked to an open area behind the teaching building. This was usually where students parked their bicycles, and on weekends almost no one came here.
He took out the scarf from his backpack, looked around to confirm no one else was there, then blindfolded himself.
Darkness once again shrouded his vision. Yinuo took a deep breath and began moving forward slowly. He could hear footsteps and breathing coming from the distant playground, could feel the coolness brought by the morning breeze, could smell the scent of earth and plants mixed in the air.
This time he didn't set a specific route, but randomly chose directions. After walking about twenty steps, he stopped, turned ninety degrees, and continued forward. After another thirty steps, he turned again. This random walking method was more challenging than a fixed route, because he couldn't rely on memory and had to rely completely on perception to judge the surrounding environment.
After about ten minutes, Yinuo heard talking coming from not far away. Two people, young voices, probably students. He stopped walking and stood in place waiting.
"Look over there, someone's blindfolded." One of the voices said.
"What are they doing? Performance art?" The other voice carried laughter.
Yinuo didn't remove the scarf, nor did he respond. He maintained his standing posture, waiting for the two to leave.
"Should we go over and ask?"
"Forget it, they're probably practicing something. Let's go to the playground."
The footsteps gradually faded. Yinuo waited for more than ten seconds, confirmed the surroundings had quieted down, then began walking again. This time he increased his speed, from about five steps per minute before to about ten steps per minute. With the increased speed, the demands on perception correspondingly increased. He had to process more quickly the sounds he heard, the changes in airflow he felt, and the subtle differences in the ground beneath his feet.
After walking about fifty steps, his foot stepped on something. A hard object, probably a rock or brick. Yinuo's body instantly lost balance, and he tilted forward.
Before consciousness could make a judgment, his right hand had already reached forward and braced against the ground. His left foot simultaneously took half a step forward, stabilizing his center of gravity. The entire process happened in less than one second. By the time Yinuo reacted, he had already maintained his balance and hadn't fallen.
He removed the scarf and looked at the rock on the ground, about the size of half a fist.
That reaction just now had been completely automatic. He hadn't thought about reaching out his hand, hadn't thought about moving his foot—his body had made the choice itself. This was the first time his body had made the correct reaction without conscious guidance.
Yinuo crouched down and looked at the dust on his palm. He recalled that sentence in the booklet: subconscious recognition of killing intent, autonomous bodily evasion. Although the situation just now hadn't been facing an attack, the essence was the same. When danger appeared, the body had reacted faster than consciousness.
This was an important node. It meant the training was beginning to produce substantive effects.
Yinuo stood up, put the scarf back on, and continued training. This time he deliberately chose areas with uneven ground, increasing the difficulty. He wanted his body to become accustomed to automatically reacting in various sudden situations, not just walking slowly on flat pavement.
The training continued for nearly an hour. When Yinuo removed the scarf, fine beads of sweat had already seeped onto his forehead. His legs were somewhat sore, and his brain also felt tired from the long period of high-intensity perception. But within this fatigue was a sense of fulfillment, a satisfaction from confirming he was making progress.
He put away the scarf, left the school, and walked in the direction of home. When passing a breakfast shop, he stopped to buy two steamed buns and a cup of soy milk. The shop owner was an old man in his sixties who slowly but skillfully wrapped the food and handed it to him.
"Student, right? Getting up so early to study—really diligent." The old man said with a smile.
Yinuo nodded without explaining. He took the food and ate while walking. The buns had pork filling and were still steaming hot, and the soy milk was fragrant, sweet, and warm. This was one of the rare moments of enjoyment in his week—not having to think about training, not having to worry about school matters, just simply walking on the street eating a hot breakfast.
When he got home, his parents were still sleeping. Yinuo walked into his room quietly, put away his backpack, and took out that booklet. He turned to the explanation page for the first stage and used a pen to note in the blank space beside it today's progress: first autonomous bodily reaction, automatically made balancing movement when falling.
This was the first time he had made a mark in the booklet since beginning training. Before, he had only read, only followed the instructions above, never thinking to write anything on it. But today's progress made him feel it necessary to record it as a milestone.
Yinuo closed the booklet and put it back under the bed. He lay on the bed, looking at the spots of light on the ceiling formed by tree shadows swaying outside the window. His body was very tired, but his spirit was very alert. He recalled the instant when he had almost fallen on the open ground just now, recalled the automatic movement of his hand bracing on the ground.
That feeling was marvelous, as if another self lived inside his body—one that was faster, more accurate, and better understood how to protect itself. And the purpose of training was to gradually let this existence take over all reactions, until there was no longer any delay between consciousness and the subconscious.
Yinuo closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep. This was the first time in a week he had caught up on sleep in the morning, and his body immediately seized this opportunity, sinking into deep sleep. The sunlight outside the window grew brighter and brighter, shining into the room, casting soft light and shadow on his calm face.