The walk to the Sunfire Pavilion felt less like a stroll and more like a condemned man's march. Every polished corridor, every silent servant bowing a little too deeply, screamed one thing: You don't belong here, weakling. Li Feng – Ethan – felt it like a physical shove. His new body, frail and uncoordinated, protested every step. Muscles screamed. The air, thick with something the System labeled AMBIENT SPIRIT ENERGY (LOW), felt heavy and alien in his lungs.
"HOST VITALITY DEPLETING. RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE NUTRITIONAL INTAKE," the glitchy blue text scrolled relentlessly. No shit, Ethan snarled internally, wiping sweat from his brow despite the cool air. This character sheet is a fucking dumpster fire.
He ignored the servant nervously trying to usher him faster. Screw 'em. He set his own pace, a slow, deliberate trudge towards the inevitable. The System's URGENT QUEST pulsed: Attend Morning Tea with Fiancée (Su Lian). The promised +0.5% Stability felt like a digital crumb. Stability for what? The damn interface flickered like a dying lightbulb.
Finally, the pavilion. Open-sided, built over a koi pond. Sunlight streamed onto an ornate teapot. And there she sat.
Su Lian.
Perfect posture, unnaturally still. Pale blue robes embroidered with silver frost. Hair like black silk. A face carved from ice. The System flickered violently.
**>>> SCANNING TARGET: SU LIAN <<<** **>>> WARNING: HIGH-ENERGY SIGNATURE DETECTED <<<** **>>> ANALYSIS PARTIAL DUE TO INSTABILITY <<<** **TARGET: Su Lian** **STATUS: Core Formation Realm (Early Stage)** **PHYSIQUE: [DATA CORRUPTED] - PRIMARY ELEMENT: ICE** **AFFINITIES: Ice (Profound), Water (Advanced)** **THREAT ASSESSMENT: EXTREME. HOST SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 0.8% IN DIRECT CONFLICT.** **AFFECTION METER: -87 (DEEP CONTEMPT / POLITICAL TOLERANCE)**
Core Formation? That wasn't just talented; it was monstrous. Survival Probability 0.8%? The number was a punch to the gut. *Affection Meter -87?* Brutal honesty.
She didn't look up as he approached. The silence was thick, broken only by a fish splashing. Ethan dragged out the chair opposite her. It scraped loudly. He dropped into it, ignoring the flare of pain in his weak core. Screw posture.
A servant poured pale gold tea into his cup. The aroma was complex – flowers, herbs, something sharp. Low-Grade Spirit Tea. Potential Qi Absorption: Negligible.
He picked up the delicate cup. Su Lian finally lifted her eyes. Pale grey, like glacier ice. Beautiful. Utterly frozen. They swept over him – disheveled hair, the faint bruise on his temple, the tremor in his hand holding the cup. Her expression didn't change, but the AFFECTION METER dipped to -89.
"Li Feng," she stated, her voice clear and cold as mountain runoff. "You look… unwell. Did you finally attempt something strenuous? Or was it merely another unfortunate tumble out of bed?" The barb was wrapped in icy politeness.
Ethan took a deliberate, noisy slurp of the tea. It tasted like expensive lawn clippings. "Had a disagreement with my chair," he said, meeting her gaze head-on. He saw a flicker of surprise. The old Li Feng would have flinched. "I won. Mostly."
One perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched minutely. "A chair. How… demanding." She took a sip of her own tea, movements fluid and precise. "Your parents requested my presence. They expressed… renewed concern about your persistent lack of initiative." The unspoken words hung heavy: As they should be. You're an embarrassment.
Ethan leaned back, forcing his spine straight against the chair's support. "Sitting around gets boring," he stated, his voice rough but holding an unfamiliar edge. "Thinking about trying something new." He watched her closely. The AFFECTION METER didn't budge, but the air around him grew subtly colder, sharper. Scanning me, he realized. Seeing if I'm full of it. He met the invisible chill with a mental snarl.
"Something new?" she echoed, the faintest trace of dry amusement touching her lips. It wasn't friendly. "What ambitious goal now? Mastering the art of extended slumber? Or perhaps conducting a thorough taste-test of the clan's entire wine cellar?" Her contempt was a tangible frost.
"Towards not being a waste of space," Ethan shot back, the words blunt and crude in the refined setting. He saw her knuckles whiten slightly on her teacup. The servant flinched. "Figured I might… poke at this cultivation thing everyone's so obsessed with. See what all the fuss is about." He kept his tone deliberately offhand.
Su Lian stared at him. The silence shifted. Less dismissive, more… calculating. The AFFECTION METER flickered erratically, settling on -85. Confusion? Or just weighing the fallout if the clan idiot tries something?
"A noble aspiration," she finally said, her voice dripping frost. "Though perhaps somewhat belated. The foundations laid in childhood are… irreplaceable." She paused, letting the implication sink in. You've missed the boat, fool. "But by all means, poke at it, Young Master Li Feng. It will give the servants something new to gossip about besides your latest drunken mishap." She placed her cup down with a soft, final click. "If that is all? I have actual training to attend." She rose in one fluid motion, robes swirling like mist. The air temperature near her dropped noticeably.
"Wouldn't want to keep you from your… freezing things," Ethan muttered, taking another defiant gulp of the lukewarm tea.
She paused, half-turned away. For a heartbeat, those glacier eyes pinned him again. Something new flickered – not warmth, never warmth – but a spark of… sharpened annoyance? Pure, distilled scorn? "Indeed," she said, the single word as cutting as an icicle. Then she was gone, leaving behind a faint chill and the scent of frost.
>> QUEST COMPLETE: Attend Morning Tea with Fiancée (Su Lian)
>> REWARD: Minor Reputation Adjustment (Clan Servants: Confused Speculation +5%), System Stability +0.5% (Current: 13.2%)
>> NEW DATA: Target Su Lian - Physique Identified: [Heavenly Frost Vein] - Threat Assessment Revised: EXTREME+
13.2%. Big fucking deal. Ethan slammed the delicate cup down harder than intended. It clattered loudly. The servant flinched. The rage was back, a furnace in his gut, burning away the lingering chill. Heavenly Frost Vein. Core Formation. Looks at me like I'm dirt.
He pushed himself up, ignoring the servant's hesitant, "Young Master, would you like–"
"What I like," Li Feng cut him off, his voice low and rough, "is to stop being dirt." He didn't wait for a reply, striding out with more purpose than grace.
He didn't head back to his gilded cage. Guided by instinct and the System's mocking WARNING: HOST PHYSICAL PARAMETERS CRITICALLY LOW, he veered towards a secluded courtyard – packed earth, high ivy-covered walls. Usable.
LOCATION: SECONDARY TRAINING COURTYARD. LOW SPIRITUAL ENERGY. SUITABILITY: ADEQUATE FOR BEGINNER PHYSICAL CONDITIONING.
Beginner. That's generous, Ethan thought, surveying the empty space. No gear. Just him, the dirt, and the impossible mountain. Su Lian's contempt burned. 0.8% SURVIVAL PROBABILITY flashed.
"Alright, Protocol," he growled, rolling stiff shoulders. Pain lanced through him. "Boot camp. Now."
Glowing text scrolled:
**>> INITIATING BASIC PHYSICAL CONDITIONING PROTOCOL <<<** **>> OBJECTIVE: COMPLETE 1 SET (10 REPS) OF:** **>>> - BODYWEIGHT SQUATS** **>>> - PUSH-UPS (MODIFIED: KNEES)** **>>> - LUNGES (ALTERNATING LEGS)** **>> WARNING: HOST BIOMETRICS INDICATE HIGH PROBABILITY OF FAILURE. PROCEED? (Y/N)**
Ethan Li Feng didn't hesitate. He mentally slammed Y.
The first squat was agony. Thighs screamed. Knees protested. He barely hit halfway down before his legs buckled. The System flashed: FORM CRITICAL FAILURE. SPINAL ALIGNMENT COMPROMISED. RISK OF INJURY: 42%. He cursed, a raw sound. He forced himself lower. One. Rep.
Modified push-ups were worse. Noodle arms shook violently. Collapsed after three, gasping, sweat stinging his eyes. Packed earth felt cool under his palms.
>> SET FAILURE. VITALITY DRAINED. RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE REST AND NUTRITION.
"Shut… up…" Ethan panted, pushing back to his knees. Su Lian's perfect face swam. Core Formation. Heavenly Frost Vein. -87. The servant's flinch. The waste.
Rage flooded him. Incandescent. Burning through weakness, pain, humiliation. The rage of Eclipse. The rage of him.
He staggered up, swaying. Focused on the rough bark of an ancient plum tree. Balled his soft hand into a fist. Pathetic. Weak.
He drew back his arm, ignoring screaming shoulders. Focused on the tree. On Su Lian. On the 0.8%. On the injustice.
With a guttural roar tearing his raw throat, he threw everything – Eclipse's fury, Ethan's defiance – into the punch.
THWACK.
White-hot pain jolted up his arm. Skin split. Blood welled. The tree barely shuddered. A bruised plum fell.
>> UNORTHODOX ACTION: UNARMED STRIKE (INEFFECTIVE)
>> DAMAGE TO TARGET: NEGLIGIBLE
>> SELF-DAMAGE: MINOR CONTUSIONS, SKIN LACERATION (KNUCKLES)
>> VITALITY: -0.3
>> SYSTEM ANALYSIS: HOST DEMONSTRATES HIGH PAIN TOLERANCE & AGGRESSION. UTILIZE.
>> RECALIBRATING TRAINING PROTOCOL...
Ethan slumped against the tree, cradling his bleeding hand, gasping. Pain sharp. Blood sticky. Body wrecked. He'd achieved nothing. Hurt himself punching a tree.
But as he looked at his bleeding knuckles, a fierce, ragged grin split his face. Alien on Li Feng's features. But his.
It was a start. The grind had begun. Eclipse never backed down. He pushed off the tree, ignoring blood, pain, warnings. Looked at the dirt where he'd failed.
"Alright," he rasped, spitting blood-tinged saliva. "Round two." He dropped to his knees, placed bleeding hands on cool earth, tried to push up. FORM CRITICAL FAILURE flashed, ignored. Pain was a debuff. Weakness was the enemy.
One bloody, agonizing rep at a time.