He mentally called the system.
A familiar golden panel flickered into existence before his eyes, bathing the room in a warm, ethereal glow.
**[System Interface]**
**Name**: Shen Yue
**Age**: 14
**Physique**: High-Level Iron-Copper Molting Physique
**Bloodline**: Mid-Level Flame Scorpion Bloodline
**Cultivation**: Uninitiated
**Skills**:
– Literacy and Knowledge (beginner) (98%)
**Spiritual Root**: Low-Level Fire Spiritual Root (Mixed) (0%)
**Talent**: Extraction
– Mid-Level Sword Talent (0%)
– Low-Level Archery Talent (0%)
– Low-Level Spear Talent (0%)
– Mid-Level Comprehension (0%)
**Unique Traits**:
– Clones: 0 (Locked)
**Stats**:
– Strength: 10
– Dexterity: 8
– Wisdom: 2.3
– Spirit: 0.9
His eyes widened at the near-complete progress in his Literacy and Knowledge skill. It had broken through from the entry level and was now hovering at 98%. Even his wisdom stat had climbed slightly, from 2.1 to 2.3. A flicker of joy surged through his heart.
He had expected some growth, having read four entire books overnight. But this was beyond his expectations. His mind was sharp, terrifyingly so. Every word, line, and page number was engraved into his memory with unnatural clarity. The contents of each book flowed through his thoughts like a living stream of knowledge.
A strange fire ignited in his chest—a fire of obsession, of hunger. He needed to push further, to reach the master stage. With newfound determination, Shen Yue turned back to his fourth book. His fingers flipped the pages with practiced grace, and for the next twenty minutes, silence reigned in the room, broken only by the rustling of paper.
And then… it happened.
A satisfied sigh escaped his lips.
He glanced back at the system panel.
**Skill: Literacy and Knowledge (Mastery) (0%)**
He smiled. The title had changed. He had finally reached the master stage.
Relief washed over him like a wave. His back hit the bedding with a thud. Sleep pulled at his consciousness, and this time, he didn't resist. A deep, undisturbed slumber embraced him.
Until it was broken by a sharp knock at his door.
It was already 7 a.m.
Breakfast time.
He allowed the servant girl to enter.
As the door creaked open, her eyes locked on him—and widened in shock. Under his eyes were deep shadows, his face pale and drained, like a ghost who had risen from the underworld. Her gaze darted to the corner of the room, where books lay stacked in precarious towers.
Her voice trembled as she asked what had happened to him.
With barely any expression, Shen Yue replied that he had a nightmare.
Obviously, she didn't believe a word of it.
She placed the tray gently down. Her posture stiff, uncertain. Then, turning her back, she paused, her tone uncharacteristically sharp.
She muttered that it wasn't her concern what he did to himself—but hoped he wouldn't die before adjusting. He was one of the lucky ones, after all. In every ten thousand, maybe one or two survived.
With that, she left.
Shen Yue simply smiled, took his food, and ate slowly, chewing in silence. When the tray was empty, he lay down again, letting his body rest. Six more hours of sleep passed.
When he woke up, the afternoon sun spilled through the window.
He washed his face and brushed his teeth—habits ingrained from his previous life. Even now, despite this world's chaos and uncertainty, he clung to certain routines like a lifeline.
His movements were no longer painful. The treatment was working. Soon, he could walk without that tight, burning pull in his muscles.
As the evening arrived, Miss Xia returned for her regular check-up.
Her surprise was evident the moment she touched his wrist for the pulse. His body was far ahead in recovery. She stated, almost in disbelief, that at this rate, he would be fully healed in just 20 days.
He thanked her sincerely.
She gave a small, curious smile, then took her leave without further questions.
As soon as the room fell into quiet again, he returned to his books.
Twenty days.
That was the window he had.
He would push his mastery of Literacy and Knowledge to the perfect stage. No distractions. No wasted time.
Days passed in a blur. Read. Eat. Sleep. Heal. Repeat.
Each day was the same. He would rise early, bathe, and immerse himself in texts. By the third day, a new thought surfaced in his mind.
His body—though fragile—was slowly gaining form, nourished by good food and rest. His muscles, though soft, had some definition now. He wasn't helpless anymore.
He had been a professional calisthenics trainer in his past life. And he had a goal now—to rebuild his foundation, one repetition at a time.
That morning, after bathing, he stepped into the empty courtyard of the guest manor. The dew still clung to the earth, and birds chirped from distant trees. It was the perfect time to begin.
He started slowly—joint rotations, deep stretches, breathing in rhythm. His movements were fluid, methodical. Then came push-ups, planks, squats, bridges.
Each rep awakened muscle memory buried deep within. The strain, the sweat, the soreness—it all felt nostalgic.
Two hours passed before he allowed himself to stop.
Chest rising and falling, Shen Yue opened his system panel.
There it was.
**Skill:**
Literacy and Knowledge (Mastery) (23%)
Calisthenics (Beginner) (3%)
He exhaled slowly.
The result was within expectations, but still gratifying. To see calisthenics appear as a skill—this world truly acknowledged both the mystical and the mundane.
He changed clothes and ate his breakfast, then returned to reading. That night, after dinner, he fell asleep easily. It had become a rhythm—a dance between body and mind.
Uncle Peng Lei visited occasionally, checking on his condition. The two spoke often, and Shen Yue listened carefully. Through these chats, he learned about the world beyond these manor walls—the sects, the inner region's politics, the rules governing cities. He absorbed every detail like a sponge.
He also asked about joining sects.
His uncle didn't give a clear answer, but his expressions held meaning—warning, perhaps, or concern.
The servant girl began warming up to him too. No longer just the quiet, irritated girl from before. She began speaking more casually, asking about his books, bringing meals with care, even reminding him to rest.
In the beginning, she had looked at him with suspicion. Now, there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. Maybe even concern.
Four days passed in this routine.
Then, as he sat on his bedding and closed the final page of a new book, he felt something stir within him.
He called forth the system once more.
The golden panel appeared.
He stared at the numbers.
And a wide smile bloomed on his face.