At four in the morning, Lu Chen opened his eyes.
No alarm was needed. The biological clock he had honed in war zones was as precise as military-grade instruments—after exactly four hours of deep sleep, his body awakened on its own, sharpening every sense to its optimal state.
He rose and walked to the living room. The iron box Yellow-Hair had delivered sat on the coffee table, the seal untouched. Beside it lay Ye Chen's cheap, cracked-screen phone and a kraft-paper folder—inside were the social-relation reports Yellow-Hair had compiled overnight.
The efficiency exceeded his expectations. It seemed that shot yesterday had taught those bullies—who only knew how to prey on the weak—what it meant to actually get things done.
Lu Chen opened the iron box first.
Inside was a stitched, thread-bound manual, its pages yellowed with time yet well preserved. Five archaic characters—Basic Body-Refining Art—were handwritten across the cover. Next to it rested a small jade vial sealed with wax, containing five dark-red pills the size of longan fruits.
[Resource Detected: Eligible for Plunder][Item: Basic Body-Refining Art (Complete Edition)][Grade: Yellow Rank — High][Description: A foundational martial art for beginners; stable and reliable, can be cultivated to Level 30 without bottlenecks][Item: Body-Tempering Pill × 5][Grade: Yellow Rank — Medium][Description: Refines muscles and bones; each pill increases Level by 1–3 (first use yields the best effect)]
The system automatically projected the appraisal interface.
Lu Chen picked up the manual and flipped through it. The text was written in classical script, accompanied by diagrams of breathing patterns and meridian routes. Thanks to Li Xuan's knowledge infusion, he understood most of it, though practicing it properly would still require time.
"This art is more than three times stronger than your current 'Lin Family Heart Method,'" Li Xuan's voice echoed in his mind, tinged with a complexity he failed to mask. "The Lin method is a modernized shortcut—fast progress early on, but the foundation is hollow. After Level 30, you hit a dead end. This one… I used to give it to my core disciples as their starting practice."
"Any side effects?" Lu Chen asked.
"Almost none. Just slow. Very slow. Advancing from Level 15 to 20 takes at least half a year with steady cultivation." Li Xuan paused. "But with Body-Tempering Pills, you could shorten it to a month."
Lu Chen uncorked the jade vial and poured out a pill. Its surface bore fine grain-like patterns, exuding a faint herbal smell.
"Just swallow it?"
"Run the heart method through one minor cycle first. Once your qi and blood become active, take the pill—the medicinal force will crash through your meridians. It will hurt. Reshaping muscles and bones is never pleasant."
Lu Chen sat cross-legged and circulated the Lin Family Heart Method stored in this body's memory. The body was indeed weak; the energy in the dantian felt like loose fog, sluggish as it moved through the meridians.
Half a cycle later, he swallowed the pill.
For one second—nothing.
By the third, molten heat burst from his stomach like lava, surging into his limbs and bones. His blood vessels swelled, his bones groaned under internal pressure, and muscle fibers tore apart only to reweave stronger.
Cold sweat seeped from his forehead, though his breathing did not falter. He had endured worse—three days and nights of torture in a desert base, limbs frozen to numbness in an arctic ambush.
Ten minutes later, the burn subsided, replaced by a gentle, nourishing warmth.
[Consumed Body-Tempering Pill (First Use)][Constitution Enhanced][Current Strength: Level 17 (+2)][Warning: Multiple foundation flaws detected (caused by forced drug ascension). Recommend switching to a higher-grade cultivation method to stabilize foundation.]
The system's prompt echoed Li Xuan's assessment.
Lu Chen stood and rolled his shoulders. His body felt lighter, senses sharper—he could even hear the garbage truck engine rumbling downstairs. But his energy control was still clumsy, like a child wielding a war hammer.
"Another pill?" He glanced at the vial.
"At least wait twenty-four hours," Li Xuan warned instantly. "Your meridians just survived a shock. Taking another pill now would clog your channels and damage your foundation."
Lu Chen put the pills away and picked up Ye Chen's phone.
The lock screen required a six-digit password. He tried Ye Chen's birthday, Su Muqing's birthday, a few simple combinations—none worked.
"Try 060713," Li Xuan said quietly.
Lu Chen entered it.
Unlocked.
"That's the date his parents died in the car crash," Li Xuan said softly. "The kid… he used to stare at their photos every night."
Lu Chen said nothing, skimming through the phone.
The contact list was sparse—mostly coworkers from part-time jobs. The most frequent messages were from Su Muqing, shifting from sweet concern to distant perfunctory replies in the recent month.
The photo album held screenshots—conversations between Su Muqing and "Lin Xiao." Naturally, those screenshots were from when the original body harassed her with obscene messages. Ye Chen had known all along.
The latest memo, dated yesterday morning:
"Muqing said her family forced her into this. The Lin Family is too powerful, she can't resist. I don't blame her. I just hate that I'm too weak. Elder Li said if I reach Level 20 in three months, I can take the 'Martial Exam' and gain martial-artist status—then I'll have the right to negotiate with the Lin Family. Muqing, wait for me."
Lu Chen turned off the phone and set it beside the ring.
"You pity him?" he asked Li Xuan.
Silence stretched.
"That child… his temperament wasn't bad," Li Xuan eventually murmured. "Diligent, loyal, resilient. Had he been born into a martial clan with proper resources, his achievements would've been exceptional."
"But this isn't a world of 'ifs,'" Lu Chen said, opening the folder. "This is a world of consequences."
The file was more detailed.
Ye Chen—twenty years old, junior at Jiangcheng University, majoring in mechanical engineering. Orphaned five years ago, left with a sixty-square-meter old apartment and two hundred thousand yuan in compensation. Survived on scholarships and part-time work. Average grades, withdrawn personality, almost no friends.
His interpersonal network was pitifully simple.
Only one unusual detail: three months ago, he began frequently visiting the western "Flea Market," searching for "ancient objects." That was when Li Xuan had been awakened.
"The flea market…" Lu Chen remembered something and opened the system's intel shop.
[Search: Jiangcheng West Flea Market Anomalies]
[Report Price: 50 Points]
He purchased it.
The report unfolded in his mind:
Incident One: Six months ago, a vendor sold a cracked bronze mirror to a middle-aged man. Three days later, the man was found dead at home; the mirror disappeared. Autopsy: sudden cardiac arrest, no external injuries.
Incident Two: Four months ago, an elderly scavenger found a cold black iron shard. Sold it the next day for 5,000 yuan. A week later, he died from a "fall." Shard missing.
Incident Three: Two months ago, a nighttime blackout hit the flea market. Surveillance captured a faint golden streak descending into the western stalls. No anomalies found the next day.
A blurry screenshot followed: a flash of gold weaving through midnight stalls.
"Looks like you're not the only 'old master' wandering around," Lu Chen said.
"Spiritual resurgence began a century ago," Li Xuan replied. "Ancient relics and tombs surface occasionally—some treasures leak out. But danger walks with opportunity. Those people who died were likely consumed by lingering resentments on the objects… or killed for carrying valuables."
Lu Chen checked the time—5:20 AM.
He changed into workout clothes, grabbed his phone and wallet, and headed out.
Downstairs, a convenience store was open. He bought water and jogged along the sidewalk. Jiangcheng's morning air carried both river mist and lingering exhaust. The streets were nearly empty.
Using the breathing technique from the Basic Body-Refining Art, he fell into the rhythm of one inhale, three exhales, guiding his energy along its designated meridians. The effect was far superior to the Lin method—every stride felt more efficient.
Three kilometers later, he reached the riverside park.
Elderly people were already practicing—tai chi, sword forms, vocal exercises. Lu Chen picked a quiet patch of lawn by the river and began drilling foundational fighting movements—straight punches, hooks, side kicks, knee strikes.
Slow, precise, every posture exact. He was reacquainting himself with this body, blending past combat instinct with this new power system.
Half an hour later, sweat drenched his shirt.
"Your power delivery is off," Li Xuan suddenly said. "Modern combat stresses speed and precision, but with internal energy, you need force that penetrates yet remains controlled. Try compressing your dantian energy to your fist at the moment of impact."
Lu Chen tried.
First attempt—energy leaked prematurely.
Second—too late, punch already retracted.
Tenth attempt.
His fist shot out. At the instant of full extension, compressed energy detonated from his knuckles like a bullet.
Bang.
Air cracked, and three meters ahead, the water rippled with the impact.
[Skill Prototype Comprehended: Penetrating Force][Skill Level: Beginner (1/100)][Description: Compress and release energy for internal damage. Current strength: equivalent to a full-force Level 20 strike]
"Not bad. Some talent after all," Li Xuan remarked. "Though still worse than Ye Chen—"
He abruptly stopped.
Lu Chen withdrew his fist and looked toward the east. Dawn stained the clouds gold, the river shimmering under the light.
"Time to pay respects," he said.
The Lin Family ancestral estate lay at the foot of Qixia Mountain—a vast hundred-acre manor of lakes, pavilions, and ancient walls. Two stone lions guarded the entrance, beneath a plaque said to be penned by a famed calligrapher a century ago.
At 7:30 AM, Lu Chen's car halted before the vermilion gates.
The gatekeeper, Fu Bo, a lean man in his fifties with bulging temples and sharp eyes, bowed slightly. Level 38—a martial artist who had served the patriarch for forty years.
"Young Master," Fu Bo said, respectful but distant, "the Old Master awaits in the Listening-to-Waves Pavilion."
"Thank you, Fu Bo."
Through three courtyards they walked. Servants bowed as he passed, fear mixed with hidden disdain. The original body had left behind a horrid reputation—stealing clan medicines, harassing maids, pawing at female cousins during banquets.
The tea room on the first floor of the pavilion housed three men.
At the main seat sat the patriarch Lin Zhengxiong—silver-haired, ruddy-faced, eyes razor-sharp. Level 65.
At his left, a stern middle-aged man in military dress—two bars, four stars: Colonel Lin Guodong, Lu Chen's father.
At his right, a refined young man in glasses—cousin Lin Hao, twenty-seven, Level 32, the most favored successor among the third generation.
When Lu Chen entered, conversation ceased.
Six eyes landed on him.
"Grandfather. Father. Cousin," he greeted with a slight bow.
Lin Zhengxiong spared him a glance, said nothing, and continued brewing tea.
"Did you cause trouble again yesterday?" Lin Guodong snapped. "I heard you dragged someone to a factory outside the city?"
News traveled fast. Expected—spies shadowed the original body constantly.
"Just handled some personal matters," Lu Chen replied calmly.
"Personal?" Lin Hao smiled gently, but the barbs were obvious. "Cousin, the Su girl clearly doesn't want you. Let it go. Our Lin Family has a reputation—forcing women isn't something we tolerate."
Hypocritical kindness, sugar-coated poison.
Lu Chen ignored him and looked to his grandfather.
The old man finally poured tea and pushed a cup toward him.
"Level 17?" Lin Zhengxiong asked suddenly.
The room froze.
Lin Guodong and Lin Hao both showed shock. They knew Lin Xiao had stalled at Level 15 for almost a year—propped up entirely by pills.
"Had a little insight yesterday," Lu Chen said.
"An insight that jumps two levels?" Lin Hao chuckled. "Cousin, did you buy those black-market pills again? I told you, the impurities—"
"I didn't take any pills," Lu Chen interrupted mildly. "It just… clicked."
Half true. Half false.
Lin Zhengxiong studied him deeply.
"Hand."
Lu Chen extended his wrist. The old man placed three fingers on his pulse, sending a warm yet immense energy through his meridians in an instant.
Moments later, he withdrew, expression unreadable—but a flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes.
"Your foundation is slightly sturdier. Still rough energy control, but your meridians are smoother, qi and blood more vigorous."
Lin Guodong and Lin Hao exchanged looks of disbelief.
"Grandfather, perhaps you misread—" Lin Hao began.
"I have not yet grown senile," Lin Zhengxiong said coldly. Lin Hao fell silent.
The old patriarch sipped his tea.
"Since you've made progress, you will participate in next month's clan tournament."
The air tightened once more.
The Lin Family held quarterly competitions for members under forty. The original had participated twice—defeated in the first round both times, a laughingstock. He later avoided them entirely.
"Father, this—" Lin Guodong began.
"It's decided," Lin Zhengxiong said. "Twenty-six years old and only Level 17—you're still trash. But at least you're training. Let others beat some sense into you. Knowing your shortcomings is beneficial."
Blunt, merciless.
But Lu Chen heard the underlying meaning—a chance to rewrite his reputation.
"Yes, Grandfather."
Dismissed, Lu Chen left the room.
He had barely stepped into the courtyard when Lin Hao caught up with him.
"Cousin," Lin Hao said warmly, "congratulations. But the clan tournament is no joke. Many of the branch family youths have already reached Level 25. Do you… need a sparring partner? I can arrange one."
"No need. Thank you, Cousin," Lu Chen replied without slowing.
"Don't be shy," Lin Hao persisted. "I know money's tight for you—I can cover the fee. Oh, and I heard you're looking into antiques lately? I know some reliable collectors."
Lu Chen stopped, turned.
"Cousin, your information network is impressive."
"All for your sake," Lin Hao smiled flawlessly. "We're family. If you stay out of trouble and cultivate properly, you'll share the family burden in the future."
"I will."
Lu Chen exited the ancestral manor. In the rear-view mirror, Lin Hao remained at the gate, gold-rimmed glasses catching the morning sun, hiding his expression.
"Your cousin is deep-minded," Li Xuan remarked. "Level 32, aura dense—likely practicing the Lin Family's Greenwood Art. With two more years, he may reach Level 40."
"He wants the patriarch seat," Lu Chen said plainly.
"And you don't?"
"I have no interest." Lu Chen watched the passing streets. "But if necessary, I will take it."
They reached the western flea market by nine.
The market had barely opened—ramshackle stalls lining narrow aisles, plastic sheets littered with rusted scrap metal, chipped porcelain, old newspapers, second-hand tools. The air reeked of rust, dust, and cheap incense.
Lu Chen activated Qi-Sense.
Energy ripples bloomed in his mind—mostly weak vitality from ordinary people, with a few low-level martial artists among the vendors. Some scattered remnants of power clung to certain objects.
Walking deeper into the west side, he felt something unusual.
A faint flicker—like the last ember in a gust of wind—yet steady, with an ancient cadence.
Its source: the third stall on the right.
The vendor, a thin old man smoking a dry pipe, had a jumble of junk laid out: chipped bowls, rusty scissors, worn comics, and a palm-sized black stone sliver.
The ripple came from that stone.
Lu Chen crouched and casually flipped through the comics.
"Have a look," the old man said lazily. "Five each."
"What about this stone?" Lu Chen picked up the shard. It was cold and heavier than it looked.
"Oh, that thing? Lid for a pickle jar. Ten yuan if you want it."
Lu Chen rubbed the surface. Rough—but faint, nearly erased carvings lingered, like ancient glyphs.
"I'll take it."
He paid and pocketed the shard, buying some random trinkets on his way out to avoid suspicion.
As he stepped out of the market, the system flared:
[Unknown Relic Fragment Detected][Appraisal Required][Cost: 100 Points][Proceed?]
"Yes."
[Appraising…][Complete][Item: Demon-Suppressing Stele (Fragment 1/9)][Grade: Earth Rank — Low (Complete Form: Heaven Rank)][Description: A shard of the ancient stele used to suppress demonic entities, containing faint 'Sealing Force'. Collect all nine fragments to activate 'Demon-Suppressing Radiance', extremely effective against demonic arts.][Current Status: Energy Depleted. Requires Three Days of Blood Nourishment before detecting other fragments.]
Earth Rank.
Lu Chen recalled Li Xuan's classification: Yellow, Profound, Earth, Heaven—each with low, mid, high grades.
Yellow Rank circulated among ordinary martial artists. Profound Rank was guarded by major clans. Earth Rank belonged to top sects or ancient ruins.
As for Heaven Rank—it bordered on legend.
"The Demon-Suppressing Stele…" Li Xuan sounded shaken. "I've heard of it! A millennium ago, during a great righteous-versus-demonic war, the alliance wielded three divine relics. One of them was this stele. All three were said to be destroyed… I never imagined fragments survived."
"How do I nourish it?" Lu Chen asked.
"Three drops of heart-blood each day, guiding energy into it for an hour. After three days, it will recognize your aura and resonate with other fragments."
Lu Chen checked the time—10 AM.
He hailed a taxi.
"Where to?" the driver asked.
"South City—Changle Street," Lu Chen replied.
Su Muqing's home address.
If he was to play the role of "Lin Xiao," then the performance must be flawless.