By dawn in the Sky-Reaching Sect, everyone was talking. The news was simple—Lu Chen didn't die—but nobody liked simple.
In the servant quarters, the story got good fast.
"He beat five guys!Made Zhang Feng eat a Rage Pill!" one outer-sect servant disciple said, slamming a wet robe down for emphasis.
"I heard he fought with his eyes closed!"another hissed, eyes wide. "My cousin's friend's brother's dao companion saw it! He's back!"
They didn't know facts.They just needed a hero.
The regular outer disciples were calculating.
"Zhang Long issued a formal death duel at the Ascension Meet,"one muttered, staring at the challenge board like his position on the board would drop if he blinks a little.
"Seven days.He's signing his death warrant," his friend replied, shaking his head. "But why would Zhang Long bother if he's still trash?"
They didn't care about Lu Chen.They just don't want their ranks to get affected.
The top disciples barely glanced up from their training.
"Zhang Long is tidying up,"one said, parrying a practice strike. "Efficient. A bit loud, but it gets the point across."
To them,Lu Chen was a stain being scrubbed out.
In the inner court, over cups of spirit tea, the talk was silkier.
"A dantian repairing itself overnight? After a public beating?" A disciple swirled his tea, confusion in his eyes. "Each word makes sense on its own, but put together…" He shook his head. "Hard to believe. I'd better go see it for myself."
The elders only noted the irregularity.
"Elder Tao intervened personally.The precedent is the problem," one elder stated, adjusting his sleeve. "The boy is merely the symptom...but something is fishy."
High on a jade terrace, a core disciple heard the ripple and dismissed it.
"A flicker in the mud,"he said to the sky. "It will either catch flame or be trampled. Watch with interest, invest nothing."
And in the Nourishment Hall, Adept Zhu heard the news and slammed her jade rolling pin down so hard the whole counter shook.
"BLIND FOOLS!"she roared, flour puffing around her like an angry cloud. Her Culinary Attendants froze. "Can't you taste the disruption in the spiritual ingredients?! The balance of Five Flavors is shifted! That boy has the fire of heaven in his gut! He's clearly the Sect Master's hidden heir, conceived under a double rainbow with a phoenix consort! MARK MY WORDS!"
She declared it with the fury of a general.Her attendants bowed deeply, scrambling to knead the dough harder, as if hard work could calm her down. Even though they didn't understand how the news relates to the ingredients, everyone just subtly agreed Adept Zhu is spouting bullshits.
The story was a weapon, a toy, a fantasy. For Lu Chen, it was just noise.
Lu Chen woke up feeling like a bag of mashed potatoes. His mind was a bit soggy.
For one quiet moment, he stared at the water-stained wooden beams of his assigned quarters. My old apartment had a stain that looked like a sad turtle. I miss that turtle.
His dwelling was a Disciple's Solitary Hut, one of many clinging to the less-energetic slopes of the outer peaks. It was a single room of worn, fragrant cedar, with a door that didn't quite seal against the mountain chill and a single window overlooking a ravine. It was a step up from the caves where the very lowest servants slept, but its chief feature was its profound anonymity and spiritual poverty. The meager energy here was thin and reluctant just like a gum on a shoe
Then reality dropped on him. The fight. The Rage Pill's burn. Zhang Long's ice-chip eyes. The seven-day death sentence. His own traitorous mouth.
He groaned,dragging a hand down his face. "I have one week to not get murdered by a Body Forging monster. My greatest achievement this week is that my lungs are still working. At least that's progress."
DING!
A blue screen flashed, glowing with sarcasm.
Name: Lu Chen (The Guy Who Can't Shut Up)
Cultivation:Body Tempering 6th Stage
EXP to Next:0 / 320
Excess EXP: 55
Points:Insult (227) | Praise (88)
Status:Profoundly Broke, Slightly Less Trashy™
System Mood:Cautiously Optimistic (This is concerning.)
"Fifty-five EXP," Lu Chen muttered. The seventh stage needed three hundred twenty. He was close enough to smell it, which was weird.
"Your management style is abusive and I'd like to file a complaint," Lu Chen grumbled, sitting up on his thin sleeping mat.
Just then, his cheap spatial pouch buzzed. He fished out the communication jade slip. Words glowed in his mind:
First: "Monthly mission quota due in three days. Failure = Contribution Point deduction or assignment to Spirit Stone Mines."
Second: "Elder Tao away on urgent business. Judgment regarding recent… disturbances… postponed indefinitely."
Lu Chen stared. "How wonderfully convenient. The one elder who might call a fair fight vanishes. And my mission deadline just happens to land right now." He snorted. "This isn't a trap. It's an invitation with 'DIE HERE' written on it."
The Mission Hall was a roar of desperate energy. Lu Chen moved through the grey-robed crowd like a ghost, drawing stares, whispers, and sneers.
He went straight to the battered 'Chore Board' at the very back.
Most tasks were taken. Clean Spirit Stables (20 points, odor guaranteed). Polish training Dummies (15 points, easy).
Then he saw it.
One slip pulsed with a soft, urgent red light, pinned in isolation as if contagious.
TASK: Harvest 50 mature Spirit Bamboo stalks, Western Grove.
REWARD:30 Contribution Points.
RISK:Negligible. Faint spirit beast activity.
TIME LIMIT:Today. Sundown.
The bait wasn't just obvious. It was as though the contract was given to a lazy hitman. It was a sign that screamed I AM MR. AMBUSH in giant, flashing letters.
But he understood failure meant the Discipline Mines—a slow, qi-draining death sentence. Like 6-9 jobs in his previous life.
With a sigh from the depths of his soul, Lu Chen pressed his token to the slip. It flashed once. Trap accepted.
The disciple overseeing the board—a sleek youth with the "Sealed Gate" faction insignia—watched him with cold, satisfied eyes. Well that was what he thought but all it was giving was a guy whose eyes were about to pop out.
As Lu Chen turned to leave, a figure came from the corner like as though he was waiting there the whole time.
Mo Tian.
A known lieutenant of Xu Rang—another of the top five outer sect monsters, and another "old friend" from Lu Chen's brief, shining past.
Mo Tian smiled. Then he lifted a hand and deliberately drew a finger across his own throat.
The hall's noise dipped. Dozens of eyes locked onto them.
Lu Chen didn't break stride. He paused, looked Mo Tian up and down with pure, undiluted boredom—like he was examining a mildly interesting stain—then curled his fingers in a slow, lazy come here gesture.
The silence was absolute for one heartbeat.
Then the hall erupted.
"HE BECKONED HIM!"
"DID HE JUST SUMMON SENIOR BROTHER MO?!"
"THIS ISN'T COURTING DEATH—THIS IS SENDING IT A LOVE LETTER!"
Mo Tian's face purpled. His aura sputtered like a faulty lantern. Lu Chen didn't wait for the explosion. He walked out, leaving behind a crackling wave of disbelief.
[Insult Points +45!]
[Praise Points +12! (From secretly impressed idiots)]
The path wound through ancient, dripping pines. Lu Chen hadn't gone far when a figure stepped from behind a massive trunk.
"Senior Brother Lu."
Li Yun stood there, her outer disciple robes pristine but her expression were filled with mixed emotions. "You took the bamboo mission?"
"The mission board's other offerings were just slower ways to die," he said. They both knew the truth.
"You can't go," she whispered, closing the distance, her eyes scanning the trees. "Mo Tian isn't acting alone. He has backing. Resources from the Alchemy Hall. And the grove…" She swallowed. "When the sun falls behind the ridge, the mist there… it doesn't just get cold. It sucks the warmth from your bones. It's not natural. Disciples caught in it come back feverish, their cultivation sluggish for weeks. If you feel that deep, sinking cold, run. Don't hesitate. Don't look back."
From her sleeve, she produced a small object wrapped in cloth so fine it seemed to drink the dim light. Cloud-silk. She pressed it into his palm. A gentle, steadying warmth radiated from it.
"A Warding Talisman. Single use. It will deflect one serious strike. Don't waste it."
Lu Chen studied the exquisite cloth, then her evasive eyes. "You know a lot about sickly grove-mist for an outer disciple. And your gifts are… surprisingly high-quality."
A flicker of panic crossed her face. She looked away. "Just… be back before dark."
Then she ran off as though she was running away from a wolf.
Weird, Lu Chen thought, pocketing the talisman. Am I that scary?
"Ambiguous?"
The system didn't reply
Back in his hut, the math was a cruel joke. 55 EXP. 265 short. Seven days to live.
"You're a digital tyrant," Lu Chen grumbled, settling onto the worn floorboards.
He closed his eyes, trying to meditate. He reached for the thin, blood qi in his body, trying to use it to temper his body.
It was like sucking mist through a shattered straw.
After an hour of straining, a single bead of sweat traced his temple. His EXP hadn't budged.
Lu Chen pulled out his last reward—the 10 Body Tempering Pills. He stared at the jade pellets.
"Swallowing ten of these at once is probably a catastrophically bad idea. Right?"