Time flies, the years pass swiftly, and in the blink of an eye, three years have gone by.
"Click!"
The door of the Cultivation Room slowly opened, and Lynch, who had been in seclusion for many days, emerged.
It was early morning, and sunlight streamed through the cross windows, forming beams that fell precisely before Lynch; he took a few steps and stood in the light.
Having not seen sunlight for many days, he involuntarily squinted slightly.
After a brief moment of adjustment to the environment, he continued forward and lay down on a wicker chair.
Lynch glanced at the time on the wall; it was not quite seven in the morning.
He waited for a few minutes, and when the time reached five minutes past seven, he casually snapped his fingers.
"Snap!"
A sumptuous breakfast suddenly appeared on the previously empty dining table, including soft, open-faced white bread, honey jam, baked egg tarts, stewed apples, and hot milk, among other foods.
