$WLFI At three thirty in the morning, the sky is not yet bright, and the room is as dark as a tomb.

The blue light from the screen burns in my eyes, like a knife.

I stare at the wlfi's minute chart, my fingertips numb from the cold.

At this moment I finally understand, cultivators are not afraid of thunder tribulations, but rather of never being able to wait for them.

Three days ago, I blew my last warehouse.

I sat at the entrance of a convenience store, watching others choose imported milk, I picked up a bag of loose bread that someone else discarded.

At that time, I thought, maybe this is how my life will be.

Huddled in the gutter, forever watching others soar.

But tonight, at the moment wlfi broke through—

I trembled all over, as if someone lit a cluster of fire on my chest.

Do you know that feeling?

It’s not greed, it’s survival.

Like a drowning person finally grasping a piece of wood.

I'm out of money, I can't even scrape together 10U.

But I still want to ask you, fellow cultivators, to open more for me.

Even if in the end it’s not me who wins,

At least let me see—

In the place where I have already been swallowed by darkness,

There are still people who light up the points.