[Ding! Random Mission Issued: Host must run around Holy Spirit Village 100 times within 7 days. Reward: Random!]
---
The voice in Suifeng's mind struck like a thunderclap.
What?! A system mission already?!
And this mission… wasn't it a little too cruel?
A hundred laps around Holy Spirit Village—in just one week?!
He glanced at the countdown timer in his mind. The clock was already ticking.
Suifeng cursed internally. I had to run back in school too… and now even after transmigrating to another world, I'm still running laps?!
Back in school, it was just three laps around the track. Now that I'm in another world, you want a hundred?!
More work for the same pay?
No choice. A system-issued mission couldn't be refused. He had to run.
But… what exactly is the random reward?
If only the system would tell him in advance, he'd at least have something to look forward to! But now, the mystery was driving him mad. He couldn't stand uncertainty—it itched at his soul like an unscratchable mosquito bite.
It was like watching a top-tier performer only show half their act—deliberately mysterious, provocative, leaving everything to the imagination. That's what adults really go for.
Only kids are into that blatant, in-your-face kind of stuff. If you're not even wearing a costume, how am I supposed to know what tribe you're from?
Gritting his teeth, Suifeng started running—for the reward!
He began jogging from the eastern entrance of the village. No sprinting at the start, he reminded himself. Form matters. Breath control matters. Or else I'll burn out fast...
He didn't know how long he'd been running, but his delicate little face was already flushed red. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans dripped down his temples, pausing on his fine eyebrows, hanging off his long eyelashes—before finally falling like a rain droplet into his clear, expressive eyes.
"Stings… burns…"
That was his first sensation. He instinctively squinted, trying to keep more sweat from dripping in.
Sigh… big eyes aren't always a blessing, Suifeng mused inwardly.
Clenching his jaw, he pushed on for another... half minute.
But his pace had already begun to slow.
His breathing was ragged, like he might collapse at any second.
His heart pounded like a war drum in his tiny chest, thundering against his ribcage. He may have been small, but his lean frame already hinted at future height and grace. Now, though, he was doubled over, barely able to straighten his back.
His legs felt numb. He was just dragging himself forward on instinct, about to fall with every step.
One step… two steps… One step… two steps… Every footfall felt like a devil's claw, like marching through hell.
Suifeng didn't even know what he was holding out for.
I have a system now! Shouldn't I be leaping over stages, ascending instantly?!
And yet, on day one—running laps?!
What kind of joke is this?!
How humiliating! Other transmigrators were punching ten-thousand-year soul beasts at age six—and here he was, barely making it past thirty minutes of cardio?!
But he didn't stop.
Just one more minute. Hold out for one more minute.
And then again—
Just one more… maybe the next one… what if something happens?
Isn't that how it always goes in novels? Push past your limits, hold the line through sheer willpower, and you unlock your true potential.
I mean, I already transmigrated. I already awakened a system. None of this follows science anyway. So why can't I believe I have potential?
He didn't know how many "one more minutes" had passed, but it felt like the heavens themselves had finally responded to his persistence.
Suddenly, the wind blowing against him no longer felt like resistance.
It was like he was a fish back in water—gliding, flowing.
The breeze seemed to carry him forward, like invisible wings had sprouted at his back.
Sensation returned to his legs, and the Misty Steps technique engraved in his mind began to flow with natural precision.
He relaxed his stride and, without realizing it, began imitating the phantom figure that had demonstrated the technique during the download. Again. And again.
Gradually, that phantom merged with his own body.
Suifeng's mood soared—he felt even happier than in his previous life's most satisfying moments.
So this is cultivation? I like this feeling.
Yes—he was falling in love with this feeling of growth. Because now, he could feel himself becoming stronger.
He forgot everything—everything he'd learned in his past life about jogging techniques, breathing patterns, optimal stride—he threw it all out the window.
Raising his arms slightly, he welcomed the cool wind brushing against his skin.
His pace was free and unrestrained, his direction his own.
He ran like the wind itself—directionless, wild, but full of life.
Indeed, Insight of the Wind and Misty Steps were made for each other.
From an outsider's perspective, the boy—who looked delicate and almost frail—was moving faster than most adults in full sprint.
But what truly stunned was his footwork: light, flowing, elegant.
His steps kissed the ground like water ripples. A single toe-tap sent him gliding forward, graceful as a swan feather.
One lap. Two laps. Three laps…
He didn't snap out of it until the tenth lap.
By then, the sky was turning red—the sun was about to set.
---
"Huh? It's dark already? Did I… transmigrate again?"
Startled, Suifeng looked up at the descending sun. He glanced at his still-childlike hands, then reached up to touch his youthful, handsome face.
"Phew… still me. Still good-looking. Guess it just got dark real fast."
He suppressed his curiosity for now and opened his system interface to check his status:
---
Name: Suifeng
Race: Human (Currently Exhausted)
Martial Soul: Unknown
Soul Power: Unknown
Skills:
Misty Steps (Beginner)
Insight of the Wind (Beginner)
Weapons: None
Armor: None
Accessories: None
Items: Speed Talisman ×3
Active Mission: Run 100 laps around Holy Spirit Village within 7 days. (Progress: 10/100)
Reward: Random
---
He'd discovered earlier that he could view his own stats and inventory through the system menu. This time, he noticed something new—both his skills were now marked Beginner. Before, they had been listed as unlearned.
Also, the mission was already one-tenth complete!
Could it be that during his "lost time," he'd unconsciously mastered both skills like some kind of genius?
Guess you don't really know your potential until you try, huh?
Suifeng let out a laugh.
Then he glanced down at himself—his whole body was soaked in sweat.
He grimaced slightly. Why does sweat smell bad, anyway? I usually smell great…
But then he remembered—even goddesses go to the bathroom. And sometimes… they break it in half.
That thought alone made him feel oddly comforted.
Time for a shower!
With a lighthearted mood, he bounded off using his newly-learned footwork—every step light and smooth.
The feeling of getting stronger is amazing.
Even if it was just a small step. Even if he was still miles behind the true prodigies of this world. As long as he could grow stronger, there was hope.
One day, he might catch up. One day, he might even surpass them—on the curves of fate.
To become the strongest in all of Douluo Continent!
His figure gradually disappeared into the twilight.
---
From behind a large tree nearby, a figure slowly stepped into view.
It was a boy around Suifeng's age, though his skin wasn't as fair—his complexion was sun-kissed, wheat-colored from spending time outdoors.
He had short black hair, neatly trimmed, and wore simple, well-worn clothes.
He was none other than the chosen one of fate—Tang San.
"Hm? He's definitely not ordinary," Tang San murmured. "That footwork… it's on par with my Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track. In fact, it might even be more fluid in some ways…"
He shook his head and stopped thinking about it.
He hadn't made dinner for his father yet. Time to get home.
Everyone has secrets. And he had his own, too…