The number 185,650 glowed on Lin Hao's retina, a digital shield against the dangers of the world. He felt invincible. He had enough UP to weather any storm, to buy any artifact, to build any formation.
He was reaching for his laptop, planning to browse the "Dark Listings" for more high-end materials, when his phone buzzed.
It wasn't the burner. It was his personal line.
Lin Meng
It was 2:15 AM.
A cold prickle of dread, unrelated to any formation, touched the back of his neck. He answered immediately.
"Meng?"
"Brother..."
Her voice was a ragged, wet whisper. She sounded like she was hiding under her covers, trying not to wake their parents. But beneath the hush, there was a tremor of pure, physical pain.
"Brother... it's... it's not working."
Lin Hao stood up, his [Level 8] presence filling the empty hall. "What's not working? The pills? Did something happen?"
" The book," she whimpered. "The 'Clear Water Chant.' You said... You said to practice. To control it."
She let out a sharp, involuntary gasp, a sound of teeth gritting against agony.
"I tried. I did the breathing. I felt the energy... the 'Qi.' It came in so fast. It was... it was wonderful at first. But then..."
"Then what?" Lin Hao asked, his voice sharp.
"It won't stop," she sobbed. "It's spinning. In my stomach. It feels... it feels like hot water. Boiling water. It's burning my veins, Brother. I feel sick. I tried to stop, but it just keeps pulling."
Lin Hao's mind raced. The symptoms were classic. Qi Deviation. Or, at the very least, Meridian Overload.
But why?
He had given her the "Clear Water Chant." It was a Low-Grade Spirit Tier Gongfa. It was gentle, fluid, and designed for healing and defense. And he had upgraded her Talent to [Level 4: Common Root]. She should have been able to handle it. A Common Root was the standard for most sect disciples in the novels. They practiced Spirit techniques all the time.
Then, the realization hit him.
It hit him with the force of a physical slap.
The "sect disciples" in the stories... they had guidance. They had teachers. And most importantly, they had years of body conditioning before they touched a real Spirit manual.
Lin Meng had gone from a mortal high schooler to practicing a Spirit-tier cultivation method in one week.
He had given her a Ferrari engine (the Gongfa) and put it inside a Corolla chassis (her Level 1 body).
Her [Level 4: Common Root] allowed her to pull the Qi in, massive amounts of it. But her physical meridians, her veins, her organs... they were still weak. They couldn't handle the pressure.
She wasn't cultivating. She was drowning.
"River into a paper cup," he whispered, horror dawning on him.
He had been arrogant. He had thought that just throwing "high level" items at her was the solution. He had forgotten the most basic rule of engineering: System compatibility.
"Meng," he said, his voice forcefully calm. "Listen to me. Stop visualizing the river. Open your eyes. Sit up. Put your feet on the floor. Ground yourself."
"I... I can't... it hurts..."
"Do it!" he commanded, using a fraction of his [Level 8] authority in his voice.
He heard the rustle of sheets. A groan of pain.
"Okay. Now, breathe. Not the Chant. Just breathe. Like normal."
He waited. Ten agonizing seconds.
"It's... it's slowing down," she whispered. "But it still burns."
"It will pass," Lin Hao said, his hand gripping the phone so hard the screen cracked further. "You're okay. You just... you went too fast."
"I'm sorry," she wept. "I just wanted to be strong. Like you."
"You are strong," Lin Hao said, his heart aching. "This is my fault. I gave you the wrong tool for the job."
He looked out the window at the dark mountain.
He couldn't just give her a manual and hope for the best. Her foundation, her literal biological and spiritual capacity, was still too narrow.
A [Level 4] Talent was "Common." It was Average.
And "Average" wasn't enough to handle the power he was trying to give her. If she was going to use Spirit-tier items, if she was going to be safe in a world of monsters...
She couldn't be Common.
She needed to be Superior.
He looked at his 185,650 UP.
He hung up the phone.
"I'm coming, Meng," he whispered. "And I'm bringing the upgrade."