Liu Mei crouched on a tree branch three hundred meters from Hunter's camp, watching the so-called "Agent of the Heavenly Dao" stumble out of his cave looking like death had filed a restraining order against him.
This was day three of her surveillance.
Day three of what her sect brothers would definitely call "inappropriately intense observation of a junior cultivator."
Day three of what civilian authorities back home would call "a felony."
She'd stopped caring somewhere around hour six of day one, right about when Hunter had tripped over his own feet, face-planted into a stream, and then blamed the water for "attacking him unprovoked."
The man was a walking disaster. A Foundation Realm cultivator who moved like someone had given a drunk toddler superpowers and access to forbidden techniques.
And Liu Mei couldn't stop watching.
It's research, she told herself for the thousandth time. Important research. Sect business. Very official.
The fact that she'd laughed so hard at his "Heavenly Dao agent" speech that she'd nearly fallen out of her hiding spot was irrelevant. The fact that she'd actually created a small ice crystal notebook to document his failures was merely thorough record-keeping.
The fact that she was currently eating spirit fruits like popcorn while watching him try to wake up his three bandits by throwing small rocks at them? Pure coincidence.
Professional cultivators observed their targets. This was completely normal behavior.
Except for the part where she'd been doing it for seventy-two hours straight without breaks.
Or sleep.
Or blinking more than absolutely necessary.
Liu Mei adjusted her position on the branch. Her concealment formation flickered, bending light around her like a cloak woven from concentrated "please don't perceive me" energy. It was overkill for hiding from a Foundation Realm cultivator, but she'd learned early that Hunter had surprisingly good spiritual sense.
Probably the only competent thing about him.
Below, Hunter finally gave up on rocks and just kicked Tao in the ribs.
"Wake up, you useless..." Hunter's voice trailed off. "Why do I even bother?"
Liu Mei pulled out her ice crystal notebook. Flipped to today's page. Added a note in perfectly formed ice script:
Day 3, Hour 4: Subject continues verbal abuse of subordinates. Subordinates appear unaffected. Possibly deaf. More likely stupid.
She'd filled thirty-seven pages so far. Her sect elders would be proud of her dedication.
Or concerned.
Probably concerned.
Almost definitely concerned.
Liu Mei didn't care.
This was the most entertaining thing that had happened to her in two hundred years of cultivation. She'd fought demons. Slain spirit beasts. Participated in sect tournaments that determined the fate of provinces.
None of it compared to watching Hunter accidentally set his own hair on fire while trying to light the morning campfire.
"HOW?!" Hunter slapped at his head, panicking. "HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! FIRE GOES IN THE PIT, NOT ON MY HEAD!"
His three bandits woke up instantly. Stared at their flaming master.
Went back to sleep.
Liu Mei's hand moved across her ice notebook:
Subject demonstrates profound incompetence with basic fire-starting techniques. Managed to violate multiple laws of thermodynamics. Hair regenerated via Foundation Realm healing factor. Subordinates unbothered. This is normal for them.
The hair fire incident was the fourth catastrophically stupid thing Hunter had done since sunrise.
The first had been trying to brush his teeth with a twig he'd pulled from a spirit tree. The tree had opinions about that. Violent, poisonous opinions. Hunter spent twenty minutes vomiting while his bandits slept through it.
The second had been attempting to practice his Shadow Step technique. He'd successfully teleported himself. Into a boulder. The boulder won. Hunter limped for an hour.
The third had been giving himself a pep talk that started with "You've got this, Hunter" and somehow devolved into "Why did I quote Liam Neeson? What's wrong with me? Who does that?"
Liu Mei had wondered the same thing.
The Liam Neeson speech. The absolute audacity.
She'd almost killed him right there. Almost. Her sword had been halfway out of its sheath, ice qi flooding through her meridians, ready to end this obvious charlatan.
Then he'd said it.
"Sent by the Heavenly Dao itself."
The sheer balls on this man. The unmitigated gall. The absolute absence of survival instinct required to lie to a Core Formation cultivator's face about being chosen by the fundamental force of the universe.
Liu Mei had seen many things in her two centuries. Prodigies who could split mountains. Demons who ate souls. Cultivators who'd transcended mortality itself.
She'd never seen anyone stupid enough to claim direct Heavenly Dao sponsorship to avoid getting executed for banditry.
And then he'd used Shadow Step.
Real Shadow Step. Not some bootleg knockoff. Not a desperate imitation. The actual forbidden technique that only three people in her entire sect knew.
She'd checked his cultivation afterward. Foundation Realm. Recently broken through. Maybe two weeks old. His foundation was solid but new. Pristine. Like he'd just been born into cultivation.
Which made the Shadow Step thing impossible.
Shadow Step took decades to learn. Centuries to master. It required understanding darkness on a fundamental level. It required patience, dedication, and a spiritual root aligned with shadow qi.
Hunter had learned it in two weeks.
Or less.
Or he'd been lying about being a junior cultivator.
Or the Heavenly Dao really had chosen the dumbest possible champion.
Liu Mei had decided to watch. Observe. Gather evidence before committing to execution or recruitment.
That was three days ago.
She hadn't left since.
She told herself it was professional thoroughness. Cultivators needed to be certain before taking action. Rushing to judgment led to mistakes. Patience was a virtue.
The truth was simpler and more embarrassing: she couldn't look away.
Watching Hunter was like watching someone juggle knives while riding a unicycle over a pit of lava. You knew it would end in disaster. You couldn't figure out how it hadn't ended yet. And you absolutely could not stop watching to see what happened next.
Below, Hunter had finally extinguished his hair. He sat by the fire pit, head in his hands, looking exactly like someone reconsidering their life choices.
"Luna," he said to empty air, talking to his invisible system again. "Why am I like this?"
Pause.
"That's not helpful."
Another pause.
"I know I set myself on fire. I was there. I felt it. Very clearly."
Liu Mei added to her notes:
Subject talks to himself frequently. Refers to entity named "Luna." Possibly a spirit. Possibly schizophrenia. Unclear which is worse.
She'd noticed the Luna thing immediately. Hunter talked to something invisible. Something that apparently talked back, gave him quests, and had a personality that made him want to commit violence.
A system. Like the legendary artifacts from the ancient era. The heaven-defying treasures that chose champions and granted impossible power.
That would explain the Shadow Step. The rapid cultivation progress. The way Hunter seemed to learn techniques that should take lifetimes in mere days.
It would also explain why the Heavenly Dao might actually be involved.
Liu Mei's ice notebook gained another note:
Working theory: Subject not lying. Actually chosen by Heavenly Dao. Heavenly Dao has terrible taste in champions. Possibly drunk. Definitely not screening candidates properly.
She'd been cultivating for two hundred years. She'd reached Peak Core Formation through blood, sweat, and enough dedication to make immortals weep. She'd sacrificed relationships, comfort, and approximately fourteen thousand chances at normal life.
And the Heavens had chosen this disaster of a man who'd set himself on fire before breakfast.
The universe had a sick sense of humor.
Hunter stood up, brushed himself off, and looked directly at her hiding spot.
Liu Mei froze. Her concealment formation was perfect. Invisible. Undetectable. There was no way he could...
"I know you're out there, Liu Mei!" Hunter shouted into the forest. "I can feel you watching! It's creepy! Stop it!"
He was looking forty-five degrees off from her actual position.
Liu Mei relaxed. He couldn't see her. Couldn't sense her. Just paranoid.
"I mean it!" Hunter continued. "This is harassment! Stalking! There are laws about this! Probably!"
Subject demonstrates paranoia. Correctly identifies being observed. Cannot locate observer. Spiritual sense inadequate despite Foundation Realm.
Hunter waited for a response that didn't come. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping.
"She's definitely out there," he muttered. "Watching. Judging. Taking notes on every stupid thing I do."
Liu Mei glanced at her thirty-seven pages of notes.
He wasn't wrong.
"Probably has a little notebook," Hunter continued, walking back to his cave. "Ice powers and a journal. Writing things like 'Day 3: Subject is an idiot.' I hate my life."
Liu Mei looked at her ice crystal notebook. At the words she'd just written. At the perfect description of her current activity.
That was uncomfortably accurate.
She added one more note:
Subject potentially psychic. Or incredibly self-aware. Both concerning.
The morning continued. Hunter tried to teach his three bandits basic combat. It went poorly. Tao punched a tree so hard it exploded. Xuan tripped over his own feet and accidentally destroyed a boulder. Lex just stood there, too terrified to move.
Liu Mei documented everything.
Around midday, something changed.
Hunter's spiritual sense spiked. His head turned north, toward something Liu Mei couldn't sense yet.
Then she felt it. Multiple life signatures. Mortal. Panicked. Moving fast.
And behind them, a swarm of Red-Maple Shadow Squirrels.
Liu Mei's grip tightened on her sword. This was bad. The squirrels were C-rank spirit beasts individually but hunted in packs. A swarm could take down Foundation Realm cultivators. Could devastate mortal caravans.
She prepared to intervene. To save the mortals. That was her duty as a righteous cultivator.
Then Hunter moved.
He ran toward the danger. Didn't hesitate. Didn't calculate odds. Just ran directly at a swarm of spirit beasts that could kill him.
Either brave or stupid, Liu Mei thought. Possibly both.
She followed at a distance, curious despite herself.
The caravan crashed. Hunter hid behind a boulder. Smart. He was assessing. Planning.
Then a child screamed.
Hunter's face changed. Something shifted behind his eyes. He stood up and charged into the swarm without backup, without preparation, without any regard for his own survival.
Liu Mei watched him fight. Watched him use Shadow Step with surprising proficiency. Watched him take injuries protecting mortals he didn't know.
Watched him catch a squirrel barehanded, let it shred his palm, and crush its skull without flinching.
The man who'd set himself on fire that morning was gone. This was someone else. Someone focused. Dangerous. Effective.
Someone heroic.
Liu Mei's ice notebook gained new notes:
Subject demonstrates combat capability. Shadow Step proficiency higher than expected. Willing to sacrifice self for strangers. Protect children specifically. Injuries severe but ignored.
Conclusion: Not faking righteousness. Actually righteous. Accidentally. Despite being terrible at everything else.
She watched him lead the survivors toward his camp. Watched him shoulder the burden of injured mortals. Watched him threaten the remaining squirrels with genuine killing intent.
The "Agent of the Heavenly Dao" act was bullshit. Obviously. Transparently.
But maybe the Heavenly Dao had chosen him anyway.
Not because he was skilled. Not because he was smart. Not because he was powerful.
Because when it mattered, when lives were on the line, Hunter ran toward danger instead of away from it.
That was rarer than any cultivation technique.
Liu Mei settled back into her tree branch, ice notebook open, spirit fruits in hand.
The show wasn't over. The caravan was heading to Hunter's camp. His three incompetent bandits were about to wake up to twenty-three refugees and their master covered in blood.
This was going to be entertaining.
She adjusted her concealment formation and got comfortable.
Professional observation, she told herself. Sect business.
The fact that she'd started ranking her favorite Hunter disasters in order of comedic value was irrelevant.
Current top three:
The hair fire incident Boulder teleportation The "I have a very particular set of skills" speech delivered to terrified farmers
Today's squirrel massacre would probably crack the top five once she had time to properly appreciate it.
Liu Mei pulled out another spirit fruit. Bit into it. Settled in for the long haul.
Down below, Hunter was explaining to his bandits why there were suddenly twenty-three people at their camp. It was going poorly. Tao had fainted. Xuan was crying. Lex was trying to calculate the food supply situation and having a visible mental breakdown.
Liu Mei took notes.
This was her life now. Peak Core Formation cultivator. Two hundred years of training. Trusted disciple of the Azure Cloud Sect.
Sitting in a tree. Eating snacks. Watching a disaster of a man stumble through heroism like someone had given a golden retriever cultivation powers and forgotten to include the instruction manual.
She wouldn't trade it for anything.
Professional observation, she reminded herself one more time.
The ice notebook gained one final note:
Day 3, Final Entry: Subject continues to confound expectations. Shows genuine heroism despite profound incompetence. Bodycount: 37 squirrels, 1 guard (accidental), 0 survivors lost. Conclusion: Heavenly Dao's taste in champions questionable but possibly justified. Will continue observation. Indefinitely. For research purposes. Obviously.
PS: Subject's hair grew back crooked. He hasn't noticed yet. Will not inform him. Too funny.
Liu Mei closed her notebook, settled deeper into the shadows, and watched Hunter try to organize a camp that had just tripled in size.
The man was either going to become a legend or die in the stupidest way possible.
Either way, she'd be there to document it.
For professional reasons.
Obviously.