The next morning, Yu Xin woke and silently recited:
System. Sign-in.
[Ding! Congratulations, Host, on signing in.]
[Your reward: Inferior-Grade Musical Spell — "Farewell."]
[Item has been added to host's memory.]
Little Yu Xin had decided to make signing in a morning routine. He hadn't expected the reward to be a spell. In the cultivation world, techniques used by immortal cultivators to wield spiritual energy were called spells; those used by martial artists were called arts.
A stream of memory flowed smoothly into his mind. This time, he wasn't overwhelmed—waking fresh and now fortified by a cultivator's enhanced mental resilience, he absorbed the information easily.
He sorted through it and was intrigued to find a sound-based spell. Spells were graded—inferior, low, medium, high, and top—based on their spiritual energy cost. However, the quality of energy mattered more than the spell's grade. A Foundation Establishment cultivator's liquid spiritual energy could make an inferior-grade spell more powerful than a Qi Refining cultivator's medium-grade one.
Farewell was an inferior-grade sonic spell. It could be played on any musical instrument. Rather than dealing direct damage, it sapped an enemy's morale, sowing depression and hesitation—a fatal delay in battle.
"Amazing!"
But then came a dilemma: which instrument should he use?
A pipa? A guzheng? An erhu?
He thought for a long while before his eyes lit up. He slipped from his bed and pulled an old wooden box from beneath it. Inside lay a plain wooden flute—a gift from Aunt Jiang on his third birthday. It was a quasi-first-rank artifact crafted from spiritual wood.
Aunt Jiang had thought he'd look adorable playing it, but young Yu Xin had been too afraid of sounding clumsy and being laughed at.
Now, he decided: this flute would be his weapon. It would soothe souls and slay demons alike.
He lifted the flute, took a deep breath, and tried to play.
The sound that came out was… painfully discordant.
So this was why I gave up before, he remembered.
But that was how all things began—awkward, imperfect. People started terrible so they could learn not to remain terrible. Grand dreams were the same: dazzling from a distance, but up close they demanded long, arduous effort before showing any result.
Most people faltered at that realization.
It, too, was a kind of fear—the fear of effort.
Little Yu Xin resolved to add flute practice to his daily routine, alongside his morning sign-in and cultivation.
But today, there was no time for practice. Today, he would bid farewell to his friend.
He washed, dressed, and went downstairs. Liu Hua and Yu Jin were already at the table, waiting. They noticed his subdued mood but said nothing. Yu Xin and Jiang Dali had been friends before they could even speak—it would be stranger if he weren't sad. Some realities words couldn't change.
After breakfast, Yu Xin went next door to Jiang Dali's house. Their homes looked similar, though the Jiangs' garden was smaller—Aunt Jiang was a mercenary, with little time or skill for tending spiritual herbs.
Yu Xin knocked twice.
The door opened to reveal a boy a head taller than him: Jiang Dali.
"Come on!" Jiang Dali said brightly, pulling him inside. "Help me pack!"
Yu Xin tried to free his hand but couldn't. How was that possible? He was already Qi Refining Level 1. Unless…
"You broke through to Acquired Realm Level 1?"
Jiang Dali looked almost embarrassed.
"Yeah. But I'm still slower than you."
Yu Xin was stunned. Was it the same?
His own meridians had been imprinted directly into his mind—swift progress was almost guaranteed. For Jiang Dali to break through just one day later with sheer effort… his martial talent was genuinely brilliant. Spiritual roots governed energy absorption speed, but breaking through bottlenecks depended heavily on physique and will.
Yu Xin felt even more assured. Something told him Jiang Dali would thrive in the Profound Yellow Sect.
He helped pack his friend's belongings into a storage pouch, then they walked together to the village entrance.
A carriage was already waiting—black with yellow accents, an official transport from the Central Region. The horses were still brown, but their aura was immense, even stronger than Jiang Dali's parents standing nearby.
Second-rank spirit beasts.
Yu Xin caught his breath. These creatures had clearly developed intelligence.
Jiang Shan and Aunt Jiang grew solemn and respectful, keeping a polite distance—approaching officials uninvited was taboo.
"Good luck, son," Jiang Shan said, his voice thick. "May your cultivation reach great heights."
Aunt Jiang silently wiped her tears and pressed another storage pouch into Jiang Dali's hands.
"These are spirit stones your father and I saved. May they serve you well."
Jiang Dali wanted to refuse, but the look in her eyes stopped him.
Little Yu Xin stepped forward.
"Farewell, Jiang Dali. May your cultivation soar by the time we meet again."
Jiang Dali nodded silently and turned toward the carriage. The door opened just enough to admit him, shielding the interior from view. High-ranking cultivators had enemies; secrecy was protection.
Without another word, the carriage departed.
After it vanished from sight, Yu Xin bowed to Jiang Shan and Jiang Lan before returning home. That evening, he practiced the flute with even greater determination.
---
A week had passed since Jiang Dali left. Yu Xin had stayed home, waiting for his father to find a suitable artifact-refining mentor.
He silently recited: Stats.
```
Name: Yu Xin
Age: 5 years
Cultivation Technique: Karmic Wind God Scripture
Cultivation: Qi Refining Level 2 (30%)
Art: None
Spells: Farewell (Inferior-Grade), Silent Wind Steps (Inferior-Grade), Wind Blade (Inferior-Grade)
```
A week of diligent cultivation and sign-ins had yielded several inferior-grade spells. "Inferior-grade" didn't mean weak—it denoted low spiritual energy cost. Silent Wind Steps was a swift, noiseless movement technique; Wind Blade was a basic cutting spell, mastered in an hour.
He had also broken through to Qi Refining Level 2 and received a useful item from sign-ins: the Concealed Ring, an ungraded artifact that could hide his cultivation by up to three minor realms. Since it didn't fit his small fingers, he threaded it onto a cord and wore it beneath his clothes as a necklace.
Now, at night, he stood in the garden practicing the flute. With a manual borrowed from one of Liu Hua's friends and the increased mental acuity from his cultivation breakthrough, his skill had improved dramatically.
But as he played, his mind drifted to memories of his past life—the friends and family he would never see again, and Jiang Dali, whom he might not even recognize after years in the wealthy Central Region.
He poured that sense of farewell into the music.
The notes spilled out, tinged with melancholy, and a strange quiet settled over the garden. Even the plants and insects seemed to still, touched by the sorrow in the tune.
Yu Xin only noticed when the last note faded. In that moment, he felt a quiet clarity.
Musical spells influence others through emotion. But how can you stir an emotion in others if you've never felt it deeply yourself?
To play moving music… you must first live deeply.
Having performed the spell with genuine feeling, his body felt light, almost buoyant.
He understood then: even with the spell's knowledge imprinted in his sea of consciousness by the system, true mastery required practice, patience, and personal insight.
He didn't linger—it was time for dinner. Inside, only his mother sat at the table. Yu Jin went to Flame City every Wednesday to sell talismans, so his absence was expected.
They chatted lightly until the door opened. Yu Jin returned—but unlike his usual weary demeanor, he wore a bright, proud smile.
Before anyone could ask, he announced:
"Xin'er… I've finally found a qualified artifact refiner willing to teach you."