"Anatomical insight" he murmured as he looked further into it, the panel changed.
[Anatomical Insight — Low-Tier]
[Status: Active]
[Description: Grants precise awareness of your body's structure. Highlights internal damage, weak points, and training strain. Enhances your memory of movements and improves control over your body's performance]
[Note: May aid in modifying or creating martial techniques tailored to your own body]
[Caution: Continuous use requires stamina]
[Potential for growth: Moderate]
Wuji's eyes landed on the description of the trait.
"So this single trait offers many abilities," he murmured, continuing to read, "the main ability is that I now have precise awareness of my body structure. It's like—"
He paused. In his mind, he saw a body frame, his body frame. It looked like a wireframe-like outline, detailed down to the smallest muscle fibers, hovering in his consciousness.
He could see the angle of his hip joints, the uneven stress on his left knee, and the micro-tension in his shin.
"So it's like an MRI...no—more than that."
He leaned back, his brows slightly furrowed.
"It's not just diagnostic. It's real-time body monitoring ability. I don't need the tools I used in my past life to understand my body. I don't need pain to tell me where something is wrong. I know when something's off without guessing. I can sense how hard a muscle is working, how close a tendon is to tearing, and how efficient my movement is."
"So it's like how normal people feel in their bodies, but mine is an advanced method of that," he thought, and he was correct.
All human beings can know what is wrong with their bodies, but only through pain or if they have a technological advantage or mystical physicians.
Then, his eyes moved to the note below the description.
Before he could read it, something about it bothered him.
"Why does this panel have a note? Is it reminding me of what to do?" he murmured to himself, then fell silent for a few minutes.
Last time, with Cellular Regeneration, he hadn't given the note much thought. But this time it felt different, almost like a nudge. Like a suggestion.
"Is it conscious?" he wondered. "Or is it just following some logic I can't understand?"
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter right now. I can't understand where this panel comes from. I shouldn't waste energy on what I can't control," he thought as he finally read the note.
"So it can help me modify existing martial arts and maybe even create new ones. This is a game changer for someone like me," he thought, glancing at the door.
"Let's test it on the Iron Marrow Body Scripture. Although it can't make me second-rate, let me just see if I've been training it wrong this past few days."
He stepped outside. The sky above was blanketed in thick, immobile gray clouds.
"It's been three days with not a drop of rain. Why do these clouds feel so… off?"
A strange heaviness lingered in the air. Ominous. Unspoken.
Wuji dismissed the thought, exhaled, and dropped into a horse stance.
He closed his eyes.
Immediately, the world around him faded, and the world within him lit up. A perfect mental image of his body formed in his mind. Every ligament, tendon, and bone was rendered in stark detail.
He began to move. Each repetition triggered responses in his body, and this time, he could see them. There were tiny fractures deep within his leg bones, as well as hairline cracks from impact and repetition. He saw them begin to heal naturally, albeit slightly, and strengthen.
He adjusted his stance. Even slightest tilt of his knees triggered different pressure patterns in his joints.
Different muscle groups activated at different angles. He could see it all clearly.
He continued practicing for several minutes. "This angle is inefficient," he said.
He adjusted his hip rotation slightly. Instantly, his internal visualization responded—the strain on his lower spine eased and the energy of his body flowed more smoothly along his meridians.
"I was wasting power with each repetition," he muttered, kneeling on the ground. "That's why it took me this long to become third-rate."
He stood up and dropped back into the horse stance with the correct form.
His legs pulsed with tension. His bones vibrated. Tiny cracks appeared again, but now they followed optimized lines.
There was less wasted motion. He applied more pressure where it mattered. His center of gravity shifted into perfect alignment.
Then, he began striking the ground with his legs again. Each impact was a controlled demolition, not the blind brutality of the last few days. "I brute forced my way into third rate," he thought, grateful for his cellular regeneration.
Without it, he didn't know if he would have become a martial artist, no matter how much he tried.
His fractures formed evenly and layered into the thickest parts of his bones.
He could see how the impact stressed certain muscle fibers. Then, he noticed that some were too tight, limiting his range of motion.
"Flexibility here needs work," he said to himself, adjusting the motion slightly. A new trajectory. A cleaner contraction.
After several minutes, he stopped and stood still, drenched in sweat.
"This thirty-minute session was equivalent to hours of regular practice," thought Wuji as he sat on the ground, drenched in sweat. "But doing two things at once is exhausting. This trait isn't without its drawbacks."
He exhaled slowly, trying to regulate his breathing.
"First, I need to recover some stamina. With the anatomical insight trait, I can increase bone density eightfold within two days. At least now, I can detect muscle and bone imbalances before they become problematic."
He stood up, his legs still feeling heavy, and resumed training, unaware that the quiet act of selling the piece of information had already begun to shift the fate of the region.
Meanwhile, back in town, the air was cold, and the sky was gray. A strange pressure hung over the streets. Most of the original residents had already been displaced.
Dozens of noble carriages clogged the roads, and their guards argued, pushed, and shoved to claim the best positions near the town center. Many had come from other cities, and some had arrived from neighboring kingdoms.
The chief's building had been transformed into a pleasure lodge. Laughter echoed from behind its gaudy doors. The town chief strolled the halls like a proud host, smiling from ear to ear. The more chaos, the more coin.
Meanwhile, outside the town walls, martial artists from rival Jianghu factions clashed over territory and honor.
Blades rang and blood spilled. Most civilians stayed far away, watching from a safe distance.
Beneath all this noise, deep below the surface, the hundreds of Dark Copsers' corpses stood frozen in silence.
Talisman paper fluttered slightly on their foreheads, suppressing the overwhelming yin qi seeping from their rotting forms.
Among them paced the Dark Corpser.
"Three more days," he whispered, his voice raspy and devoid of warmth. His fingers twitched as he inspected the rows of dead bodies.
Hu San stood silently behind him. The cold yin qi of the chamber curled away from him like mist avoiding fire.
"When is that bastard Yan Wusheng coming?" Hu San growled. "The longer he plays around with mortals, the more likely he is to expose us all."
The Corpser didn't reply. He just stared at the rows of corpses and smiled.
In a dark corner of the basement, Mo Lianye sat on a stone slab with her sword across her lap. She slowly and methodically cleaned it with a blood-stained cloth. The metal glinted with a faint candlelight.
"That lecherous dog must be rolling in mortal perfume again," she said coldly. "Drunk on cheap wine and cheaper women. He thinks with his cock, not his core."
From above, a lazy voice echoed down the narrow stairwell, carried on the creak of descending footsteps.
"Tsk, Lianye, you hurt me by saying that. What do you know about the sacred balance between yin and yang? Harmony has its pleasures."
Yan Wusheng stepped into the basement, his fan half-open, the metal ribs catching the faint candlelight. He looked around and shuddered slightly.
"Dark Corpser, restrain your damned Yin Qi. Are you trying to summon the righteous hounds down here? This chill could wake the dead—oh, wait...they are already dead." He chuckled.
The hunched figure in the center didn't look up. He was crouched over a corpse, adjusting the talisman on its brow with sickening precision.
"Their noses are dulled by arrogance. Let them come," Dark Corpser rasped. His voice was brittle, as if something ancient were speaking through a cracked mask.
From the other side, a thick, burning voice cut in.
"Stop whining, both of you. Your noise is worse than righteous lectures," said Hu San, arms folded over his swollen, red gut. Fire danced behind his eyes. "If they find us, I'll burn this town you come to like," he said, looking at Yan Wusheng.
"You always say that, Hu San," Yan Wusheng said, settling down on a crate and tapping his fan against his leg. "But lately, you've only roasted beggars and chickens. No fun in that."
Hu San grinned without humor. "Test my patience and you'll see what a feast looks like."
Yan Wusheng waved a hand. "Fine, fine. Where's the old ghost with the formation plate? Shouldn't he be here deploying the formation?"
"If he's smart, he's working," Mo Lianye muttered. "Unlike you."
"My talents lie in more refined arts," Yan Wusheng said with a smirk. "Seduction. Subtlety. Strategy. You brutes wouldn't understand."
A nearby corpse twitched, and its head turned unnaturally toward Yan Wusheng.
The Dark Corpser finally looked up. "Three more days," he whispered. "Then we open the door to above. Then blood will flood this earth like rain."
Silence fell again, heavy, rotting and pregnant with violence.
A thousand miles away, a massive spirit ship glided through the clouds gracefully.
At its prow stood Bai Xueyi, one of the sect's core disciples. She was dressed in white. Her long robes fluttered in the wind as she stared at the cloud-shrouded horizon.
Two other core disciples stood behind her. One of them, Lin Yushu, stepped forward.
"Senior Sister, I believe that seedling may possess a special physique, perhaps even one of the Three Thousand Great Dao Physiques."
Bai Xueyi didn't react, but Lin Yushu continued, his tone sharp with conviction.
"Based on the report's description of his breakthrough and what I saw using my Eye Technique, I'm at least seventy percent certain. If we don't reach him soon, the demonic factions might get to him first."
The wind howled across the ship, but Bai Xueyi remained silent.
Inside, her thoughts stirred. "Why is Lin Yushu acting like this? Speaking as if the boy were his long-lost brother... Is there another motive? Does he truly care?"
She didn't voice her thoughts. As always, time would reveal the truth. "Don't worry. Just wait three more days, and we'll arrive and see for ourselves."