Twenty points. The number glowed in his mind's ledger, a fortune earned from a single, desperate gamble. Lin Feng spent the next three days in a state of heightened, almost painful awareness. He moved through his duties the dust of the annex, the careful pruning of non-blighted Silverstream leaves for his private stash with a predator's stillness. The world felt different. The air wasn't just spiritual energy anymore; it was a lattice of potential triggers, subtle threats, and fleeting opportunities.
He avoided the central training grounds. He took circuitous routes. Xiao Rou's innocent, devastating observation "You feel like a quiet spot" had been a brand. It marked him as interesting to a being of pure, untrained perception. In the ecosystem of the sect, being interesting to a prodigy was like having a rare, faint scent. It might attract benevolent curiosity, or it might draw the attention of predators who wanted to know what she found fascinating.
He needed to convert his points into something solid, something that would not just improve him, but would insulate him.
His first investment was defensive. He spent five Karma points on a comprehensive, Ledger guided analysis titled: "Optimal Low-Profile Spiritual Development Pathway for Miscellaneous Root Bearer (Current Stage: Qi Condensation 2nd Heaven)."
The information that flooded his mind was not a magical technique. It was a five-year plan. A grueling, meticulous schedule of mental cultivation, precise meridian channeling exercises, targeted herb ingestion (he cross-referenced the list with his garden knowledge common, low-value herbs with synergistic effects when combined in specific, unorthodox ratios), and even recommended dietary adjustments. It accounted for his conflicting affinities, not by trying to harmonize them, but by orchestrating their dissonance. It proposed building his foundation not on purity, but on controlled, internal interference patterns that could, with astronomical effort, be harnessed for unique effects like the null-pulse he'd accidentally created.
It was a path of grinding, intellectual labor with no guarantee of spectacular power. But it was a path. A real one. And it was designed to keep his growth slow, steady, and beneath the notice of anyone not actively scanning him with profound skill.
The second investment was more immediate. He spent three points on a specialized analysis: "Creation of a Persistent, Low-Grade Spiritual Dampening Field (Personal)."
The Ledger provided a method that was part cultivation exercise, part conceptual hack. It involved weaving threads of his own earth and water affinities (the most stable and receptive of his five) into a loose, permeable net around his dantian and core meridians. This net wouldn't block energy, but it would diffuse his spiritual signature, making it appear even weaker, fainter, and more chaotic than it already was. To a cursory scan, he would look like background noise. A slightly stronger gust in the ever-present spiritual wind of the mountain. It was the cultivation equivalent of a chameleon's skin, not invisibility, but perfect camouflage for his specific environment. He practiced it for hours each night, the net growing more stable. The "quiet spot" feeling Xiao Rou had sensed would become the "faint, messy static" that everyone else would ignore.
With twelve points left, he felt a margin for one proactive move. He turned his attention back to the garden. To Overseer Liang.
The old gardener's frustration was a tangible thing. The blight on the Silverstream Grass had been contained to one patch, but it was a black mark on his ledger. The single, mysteriously recovered plant Lin Feng had cured stood as a taunting anomaly. Liang had taken to glaring at it, as if it were personally insulting him.
Lin Feng approached him one afternoon, after completing his official sample harvest for Disciple Wen. He bowed, holding out a small cloth bundle.
"Overseer. This humble disciple, while collecting samples, has been experimenting with minor purgative washes, as suggested in some of the fragmented alchemy texts in the annex. I do not presume to understand the blight, but" He unwrapped the bundle. Inside were two leaves. One was healthy, vibrant silver. The other was from the blighted patch, but the black fungus was dry, flaky, and receding from the edges. "This was the result of a three-day immersion in a dilute wash of crushed Moonpetal stems, Stonecrop sap, and purified water. The text called it a 'Siphoning Rinse.'"
It was a lie. A beautiful, layered lie. The "Siphoning Rinse" was a real, useless thing mentioned in a scroll he'd dusted. It did nothing to Grey-Spore rot. The healthy leaf was from a different plant entirely. The "treated" leaf was from his secret test plant, still recovering from his Karma-tagged essence. But he presented them together, with the earnest, slightly clumsy demeanor of a lowly disciple dabbling in book-learned nonsense.
Liang took the leaves, his thick fingers surprisingly gentle. He held them up to the light, his brow furrowed. He smelled them. The "treated" leaf did smell faintly of Moonpetal and earth, from Lin Feng's careful doctoring.
"Moonpetal… Stonecrop…" Liang muttered. "Astringent and grounding. No elemental clash. Hmph." He looked at Lin Feng. "You did this?"
"A small experiment, Overseer. To further my understanding. I know it is not a true cure, but the text suggested it might slow the spread on detached samples. I may have over-applied it."
Liang stared at him for a long moment, then grunted. "Waste of time. But not entirely stupid. Shows you're actually looking at the plants, not just pulling leaves." He handed the bundle back. "If you're so interested in useless experiments, you can have the job of monitoring the blight patch. Daily notes. Any change. Don't touch anything without my say-so. But you can look. Report to me every three days."
It was a tiny promotion. From a tolerated scavenger to a designated observer. It gave him legitimate, daily reason to be in the garden, near the plants, handling leaves. It gave him cover.
"And take this," Liang said, tossing him a small, worn token. "Gets you into the low-grade compost shed. There's old manuals on soil balances in there. More useless text for you to read." It was said with gruff dismissal, but the token was a key. Access to another layer of the sect's ignored infrastructure.
Lin Feng bowed deeply, hiding his smile. Investment successful. He had traded a crafted lie and a demonstration of harmless curiosity for official standing and expanded access.
Karmic Opportunity Detected: Acquisition of Niche Authority & Resources via Perceived Diligence.
Karma Points Gained: +2.
Current Karma Balance: 14.
He was accruing points even while spending them, his actions creating a positive feedback loop of subtle, system-approved subversion.
That evening, as he sorted through mildewed scrolls in the compost shed (finding, to his delight, a half-rotted but still legible manual on low-energy, symbiotic pest deterrent arrays), he felt the first ripple of consequence from the python incident.
It wasn't Xiao Rou. It was a chill that had nothing to do with the mountain air.
He was taking the long path back to the dormitories when he saw her. A woman, standing at a junction of two paths, as if waiting. She was not in Azure Cloud Sect robes. Her dress was a deep, wine-red, cut in a way that was both elegant and suggestive, clinging to curves that seemed designed to draw the eye. Her hair was piled in an intricate, dark cascade, and her lips were a slash of color in the twilight. She held a delicate, closed fan, tapping it idly against her palm.
She was beautiful in a way that felt like a weapon. And her aura it was a low, humming thrum of power, laced with something sweet, cloying, and deeply dangerous. It wasn't the sharp cold of Su Lingxi, or the pure glow of Xiao Rou. It was the scent of a jungle flower that devours insects.
Her eyes, dark and knowing, found him instantly. They swept over his grey robes, his ordinary face, and a smile touched her lips not friendly, but appraising.
"You're one of the outer disciples who was in the valley today," she said. Her voice was a husky melody. "During the excitement."
Lin Feng stopped, bowing automatically. "This disciple was returning from his duties, Senior. The disturbance caused a detour."
"A detour." She took a step closer. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and something metallic washed over him. "How fortunate for little Xiao Rou that so many were taking detours." Her gaze was like a physical touch, probing. "You were quite close, weren't you? When the python struck."
Every instinct screamed danger. This was not innocent curiosity. This was a predator taking the scent of a new element in her hunting grounds.
"I fell, Senior. The beast's movement startled me."
"Did it." She tapped her fan again. "A pity. Such a clumsy thing to do, when a Heavenly Spirit Root is in peril. One might think you were trying to get in the way." She said it lightly, but the implication was a needle of ice.
Lin Feng kept his head slightly bowed, his mental net of spiritual dampening held tight. He let his energy signature remain the faint, messy static it was designed to be. "This disciple is of low talent and slower reflexes. I was merely unlucky."
The woman watched him for a long, silent moment. He could feel her spiritual sense brushing against him, a tendril of honeyed poison testing his waters. It slid over his dampening field, finding nothing but chaos and weakness. Her smile widened, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Unlucky. Or perhaps unremarkable." She seemed to lose interest, the predatory focus shifting away. "The Azure Cloud Sect has so many unremarkable things. It's what makes the remarkable ones so tasty." She looked past him, toward the inner peaks. "Run along, little disciple. The mountain is dangerous at night. More than just pythons are abroad."
She turned and walked away, her red robes swallowing the twilight. She didn't look back.
Lin Feng didn't move until the last whisper of her jasmine-and-metal scent had faded on the breeze. His heart was a steady drum against his ribs, his calm an artifact of fierce will.
He knew who she was. The aura, the predatory allure, the casual, cruel interest in Xiao Rou. Yan Meixiang. The Ambitious Demoness. Of the Profound Joy Pavilion, a rival sect likely visiting for some inter-sect discourse or thinly-veiled espionage.
And she had noticed him. Not as a person, but as a variable near a valuable piece. A piece she clearly had designs on.
He walked the rest of the way to the dormitory in the dark, his mind colder than the mountain night. The game had just expanded off the board. Players from other factions were now on the field. His quiet spot had been noted, not just by a naive prodigy, but by a professional manipulator.
Back in his room, he reviewed his ledger.
Karma Balance: 14.
Assets: A five-year grinding plan. A spiritual camouflage net. Official garden observer status. Access to the compost shed.
Liabilities: The attention (however fleeting) of Yan Meixiang. The unresolved, curiosity-marked interest of Xiao Rou. The ever-present threat of Zhang Hai, now humiliated and simmering.
Opportunities: The garden. The annex. The slow, silent construction of a foundation no one understood.
He had fourteen points. He could spend them on another internal adjustment, perhaps to strengthen his nascent dampening field. Or he could save them for a larger play.
As he lay in the dark, he made his decision. He would spend seven points half his reserve on something proactive. Not defense. Not growth. Intelligence.
"Ledger," he thought, the command firm. "I require an analysis. Subject: Disciple Zhang Hai. Focus: Psychological profile, key vulnerabilities, predictable behavior patterns based on observed interactions and standard cultivation world bully tropes. Objective: Design a non-confrontational, low-risk strategy to permanently neutralize him as a direct threat. Karma limit: seven points."
The Ledger hummed in his mind, the cost fluctuating as it processed the complex request.
Analysis Requested: Target Neutralization via Social/Psychological Engineering.
Assessing…
Estimated Karma Cost: 6 Points.
Proceed? Y/N
Six points. A significant investment. But to remove a persistent, grinding threat from his daily calculus? To free up mental bandwidth and spiritual energy for real growth? It was worth it.
Yes.
The points drained away. Information, cold and analytical, filled his mind. It was not a step-by-step plan. It was a dossier.
Primary Motivation: Insecurity masking as superiority. Deep fear of being seen as weak, stemming from middling talent in a powerful cousin's shadow.
Key Vulnerability: His reputation among his own lackeys and mid-tier outer disciples. It is his only source of real power. It is fragile, built entirely on perceived dominance.
Predictable Behavior: Responds to public challenges with disproportionate force. Avoids complex, non-physical conflicts (bureaucratic, intellectual). Craves simple, clear hierarchies.
Recommended Strategy: Not direct conflict. Not avoidance. Social corrosion. Undermine the foundation of his reputation by making his dominance appear costly, foolish, or irrelevant. Provide his lackeys with a more profitable, less risky alternative focus. Isolate him not through defeat, but through obsolescence.
First Phase: Identify and exploit a competitor within his social sphere. A disciple of similar standing who resents Zhang Hai's position. Provide that competitor with a minor, tangible advantage (information, a small resource) that can be leveraged against Zhang Hai's interests, anonymously.
Execution: Requires subtlety, timing, and the use of the garden or annex as a neutral staging ground.
The dossier ended. Lin Feng opened his eyes. A slow, real smile touched his lips for the first time in days.
He wasn't going to fight Zhang Hai. He wasn't going to out-cultivate him anytime soon. He was going to make him boring. Then, he was going to make him lonely. And finally, he would make him irrelevant.
He had eight points left. A plan for his own growth. A plan for his enemy's social disintegration. And the unsettling knowledge that he was now a piece on a board watched by a demoness in red.