The next six days became a study in dualities. By day, Lin Feng was a ghost in the Scriptorium, a silent figure blending into the dust and shadows. By evening, he descended into the cold, silent world of Vault Three, where his only companion was a wooden box sweating frost.
He reported to Su Lingxi each afternoon at the designated hour. The interactions were brief, clinical. He would stand in the antechamber, the profound cold a physical weight, and state his observation: "The frost layer remains uniform, Palace Master." Or once, "A faint crystalline pattern, like ferns, formed on the eastern side. It dissipated within the hour." She would acknowledge with a microscopic nod or a single word "Proceed" before the crystal door sealed him out again.
There was no gratitude, no curiosity. He was a sensor, a living alarm. Less than a disciple; a functional appliance. And he used that very indifference as a shield. No one looked too closely at an appliance.
Each visit, after his report, he would linger in the antechamber just a moment longer than necessary, under the guise of ensuring he had delivered his message clearly. In those moments, he extended his Conscious Focus, not to cultivate, but to map. He mapped the rhythm of the Frozen Jade Pavilion's ambient cold. The subtle, almost imperceptible fluctuations that corresponded, he hypothesized, to Su Lingxi's own cultivation cycles or emotional states. He noted the "brittle" spot near the wall it pulsed weakly, like a toothache in the fabric of the domain. He felt the slight irregularity in the energy flow from her private chambers; it was strongest just after dawn, as if something was being strained.
He gathered this data silently, storing it away. Understanding a person, he knew from his old life, began with understanding their environment. Her environment was an extension of her frozen soul.
But the true work happened in Vault Three. His "sympathetic resonance" experiment evolved. He no longer just sat and hoped for alignment. He became a conductor of his own internal chaos.
He would begin with the Conscious Focus, achieving that baseline clarity. Then, he would deliberately bring to mind the Ledger's conceptual breakdown of his spiritual roots. He would visualize the five diffuse, conflicting colors tangling in his dantian. He would focus on the weak blue strand his water affinity.
Then, he would turn his attention outward to the Frostbell Bloom's aura. He wouldn't try to grab it. Instead, he would imagine the Bloom's perfect, monolithic cold as a tuning fork of unimaginable purity. He would then "strike" his own weak blue strand with that imagined fork.
Hum.
It wasn't a sound, but a sensation. A shiver in his spiritual framework. For a few heartbeats, his water affinity would vibrate in clean, coherent waves, its diffuse nature temporarily forced into a semblance of order by the reflected resonance. In those moments, two things happened:
The lingering metal contamination, repelled by the purity of the resonant cold, loosened further. He could almost feel tiny, microscopic shards of the invasive energy dissolving, flushed away by his own, slightly-improved circulatory flow.
The other four affinities (fire, earth, wood, metal), deprived of their usual chaotic interplay with the water element, would fall into a temporary, disorganized lull. It was as if the loudest instrument in a terrible orchestra had suddenly begun playing in tune, confusing the others into silence.
The effect was temporary. The moment he broke focus, the chaos would reassert itself. But each session left him feeling cleaner. Lighter. The persistent ache in his meridians faded to a faint memory. His spiritual energy circulation, while still a trickle, became a consistent trickle, no longer stopping and starting like a clogged pipe.
On the fourth day, during his evening session, he made a breakthrough in observation. The Frostbell Bloom's aura wasn't perfectly static. It had a rhythm, a slow, glacial pulse. Once per hour, the cold would intensify minutely for the span of ten breaths before settling back. Lin Feng timed it. He realized this pulse was the Bloom's natural spiritual respiration, harmonizing with the ley lines of the earth even in its harvested state.
He adjusted his practice. He waited for the pulse.
As the wave of intensified cold washed over him, he struck his internal "tuning fork."
HUM.
The resonance this time was stronger, clearer. The blue strand in his mental image didn't just vibrate, it sang a single, pure note for a glorious three-second interval. The cleansing effect was palpable. He felt a wave of gentle cold sweep through his meridians, not as an attack, but as a scouring tide, carrying away the last gritty remnants of Zhang Hai's malice.
When the pulse faded, he was left sitting in the vault, his body trembling slightly, not from cold, but from release. He took a deep, unhindered breath. For the first time since his transmigration, his spiritual pathways felt open. Clear. They were still pathetically narrow and inefficient, but they were no longer damaged.
He had healed himself. Not with a rare pill or a elder's intervention, but with borrowed resonance, stolen moments, and applied theory.
Karmic Opportunity Detected: Self-Restoration via Unorthodox Environmental Manipulation.
Karma Points Gained: +4.
Current Karma Balance: 6.
Six points. A small treasury. The Ledger approved of ingenuity, of turning a disadvantage into a tool.
On the final day of the task, he made his last report to Su Lingxi. The frost pattern had been stable for over thirty-six hours. The Bloom was settling.
"The task is complete," she said, her voice as ever, a chime of ice. She looked at him, and for a fraction of a second, her glacier eyes seemed to focus on him not as an appliance, but as an object that had performed its function without failing. It was the barest flicker of attention. "You have performed adequately. Archivist Song will be informed of your satisfactory service. You may go."
No reward. No offer of future service. Just a return to oblivion.
Lin Feng bowed. "This disciple thanks the Palace Master for the opportunity to be of use." The words were standard, hollow. But as he said them, he was looking past her, at the faint, almost invisible shimmer in the air at the edge of the brittle spot in her domain. He saw it flicker, just once, as if in response to a suppressed sigh.
He left the Frozen Jade Pavilion for the last time, descending into the warmer, noisier levels of the sect. He felt different. The clarity from his healed meridians was physical. The world's spiritual energy didn't rush to him, but it no longer actively avoided him. It was neutral. It was a start.
He returned to the dormitory, but not to rest. He had resources now. Six Karma points. A body in working order. And a plan.
That night, under the cover of darkness, he left the outer disciple quarters. He didn't go to the herb garden or the Scriptorium. He went to a place few outer disciples ever visited: the Contributions Exchange.
It was a large hall, open even at night, lit by soft, ever-glowing stones. Disciples could exchange contribution points, earned from missions or exceptional service, for resources: pills, materials, low-grade artifacts, and most importantly for Lin Feng, information.
He walked past displays of gleaming flying swords and shimmering talismans he couldn't afford. He went to a secluded counter at the back, manned by a sleepy-looking inner disciple. On the wall behind him were scrolls listing available low-cost items.
"I wish to browse the available introductory texts on foundational theory," Lin Feng said, his voice calm.
The inner disciple waved a bored hand toward a rack of simple jade slips. "Five contribution points to copy one. You have points?"
"I have spirit stones," Lin Feng said, placing his single, low-grade stone and the mid-grade pill from Alchemist Huang on the counter.
The disciple's eyes widened slightly at the pill. He picked it up, examining it. "Mid-grade Qi-Gathering. Not bad for an outer disciple. Equivalent to eight contribution points. The stone is worth one. Total of nine. What do you want?"
Lin Feng had already studied the list. "The introductory texts on Spiritual Root Theory and Meridian Channel Topography." Basic, dry, theoretical texts that most disciples skipped in favor of flashy technique manuals. To them, it was like studying plumbing diagrams when you wanted to put out a fire. To Lin Feng, it was the blueprint of the house.
The disciple shrugged, made the exchange, and used a transfer array to copy the texts onto two blank, low-grade jade slips. Lin Feng took them, his heart beating faster. Information.
Back in the dormitory, he waited for his roommates to sleep, then placed the first slip against his forehead. Knowledge flooded in—dry, academic, and invaluable. It detailed the known types of spiritual roots, their interactions, the classical theories of affinity purity and conflict. It confirmed what he knew: Miscellaneous Roots were a dead end. The text offered no solutions, only descriptions of failure.
He then accessed the Meridian Topography slip. This was a map. A detailed, if generalized, chart of the human body's spiritual pathways, their connections, their common blockage points, and their sensitivity to different elemental energies.
With this map in his mind, he combined it with the Ledger's earlier analysis of his own roots. He wasn't just a trash constitution anymore. He was a system with known parameters.
He focused inward, using his enhanced Conscious Focus to trace his own meridians, comparing them to the standard map. He found deviations places where his channels were thinner, twisted, almost atrophied from years of conflicting energy trying to pass through. He found nodes where the five affinities seemed to knot together, creating spiritual traffic jams.
He had his targets.
Now, for the experiment. He still had the six Karma points. He focused on the most congested node he could find, a knot near his lower dantian where the fire and water affinities perpetually warred, creating a steam-like stagnation that weakened the entire structure.
"Ledger," he thought, "analyze this specific meridian node. Isolate the conflict between the fire and water affinity energies there. Propose the minimal conceptual adjustment to reduce conflict by ten percent."
Analysis Requested: Localized Meridian Node Conflict.
Estimated Karma Cost: 3 Points. Proceed? Y/N
Three points. Half his capital. He confirmed.
Analysis Complete.
Node: Lower Dantian Convergence - Sector Theta.
Conflict: [Diffuse Fire Affinity] vs. [Diffuse Water Affinity].
Current State: Mutual inhibition, generating waste "steam" energy that dilutes overall output and stresses channel walls.
Proposed Minimal Adjustment: Introduce a micro-channel of [Concept: Earth] affinity as a buffer/baffle between the two conflict zones. Earth, in its stabilizing aspect, can absorb and neutralize the direct clash.
Method: Cannot be constructed. Must be redirected. User possesses [Diffuse Earth Affinity]. A focused, conscious circulation of earth-attuned spiritual energy (minimal amount required) through a specific sub-pathway (see attached schematic) for five minutes per day can establish a passive, stabilizing buffer effect. Efficiency: Low. Risk: Low. Required Karma for Schematic and Guidance: 2 Points.
Karma Cost of Analysis: 3 Points. Current Balance: 3.
Lin Feng didn't hesitate. He spent the two points.
A complex, three-dimensional schematic of a tiny subsection of his spiritual anatomy imprinted itself on his mind, alongside a simple circulation technique for his earth affinity energy. It was like being shown a single, specific wire to reroute in a vast, tangled circuit board.
He spent the next hour in meditation, following the guidance. Pulling on his weak earth affinity was like trying to suck molasses through a straw. But he did it. He guided a feeble, brownish wisp of energy along the prescribed, unfamiliar sub-pathway, creating a tiny, internal dam between the warring fire and water.
He finished, exhausted. He checked the node. The chaotic, churning sensation was still there, but it was dampened. Muffled. The "steam" pressure had lessened. It was a ten percent reduction, just as predicted. A microscopic optimization.
But in a system running at 6% efficiency, a 10% improvement in one key component was monumental. His overall energy flow felt smoother. The trickle became slightly less hesitant.
Karmic Opportunity Detected: First Successful Internal System Optimization.
Karma Points Gained: +2.
Current Karma Balance: 5.
He had spent five points and earned two back, for a net cost of three. And he had made a permanent, if small, improvement to his foundational cultivation apparatus. He had moved from repairing damage to implementing an upgrade.
Lin Feng lay back on his pallet, a profound fatigue laced with triumph washing over him. He had met a Palace Master and used her like a spiritual tuning fork. He had turned theoretical texts into an engineering manual. He had used the Ledger not for answers, but for precise, surgical questions.
He was no longer just debugging the system he was trapped in. He had begun reverse-engineering his own source code, and he had just successfully edited his first line.
The path forward was no longer a desperate scramble for survival. It was a series of calculated, incremental optimizations. And he had five points left to fund the next experiment. The world of mighty techniques and soaring on swords felt less distant. Not because he was suddenly powerful, but because he now held the wrench, the schematic, and the will to slowly, meticulously, rebuild his engine from the inside out.