Strength. Not the explosive, earth-shattering power the disciples in the courtyard trained for, but a deep, humming vitality. Li Wei flexed his fingers, feeling the firmness of muscle where there had been only trembling weakness. The Xinxi Catalyst had done more than recharge the System; it had begun rewriting the faulty code of his physical form.
[HOST PHYSICAL CONDITION: OPTIMIZING. SYSTEM POWER: 22%. PARADOX MODE STABLE.]
[ZERO: FEELS GOOD, DOESN'T IT? NOT BEING ONE COUGH AWAY FROM THE GRAVE? NOW LET'S GO SHOW OFF A LITTLE. TIME TO COLLECT MORE DATA.]
[APEX: UNNECESSARY PROVOCATION. THE HOST SHOULD REMAIN CLANDESTINE AND SYNTHESIZE ADDITIONAL CATALYSTS.]
Li Wei ignored them both. Apex was caution incarnate, and Zero was chaos unleashed. The truth, as it often was, lay in the synthesis. He needed to test his new capabilities, to gather data on his "First Glimpse" ability in a controlled environment. The training courtyard was the perfect lab.
As he stepped out of his hut, the world was different. The air wasn't just air; it was a medium with density, viscosity, and flow patterns he could almost see. The path wasn't just dirt; it was a composite of minerals and decayed matter, its structural integrity a simple equation. He was seeing the source code, and it was beautiful.
His arrival in the courtyard caused the usual training drills to stutter to a halt. The disciples watched him with a new kind of fear, no longer the simple contempt for a cripple, but the wary unease reserved for a natural disaster one couldn't predict.
He didn't head for the training dummies. Instead, he walked to a quiet corner where a lone disciple was practicing a basic sword form—the "Rippling Stream." The disciple's movements were clumsy, his Qi flow erratic, creating visible turbulence in the air around his blade.
Li Wei stood and watched, his eyes seeing beyond the flesh and steel.
[ANALYZING 'RIPPLING STREAM' SWORD FORM...]
[PRINCIPLE: TO MIMIC THE UNPREDICTABLE YET CONTINUOUS FLOW OF WATER.]
[EXECUTION FLAWS: 17 IDENTIFIED. PRIMARY FLAW: USER'S SPIRITUAL OUTPUT HAS A 0.8-SECOND CYCLE, CREATING A PREDICTABLE RIPPLE IN THE 'UNPREDICTABLE' FORM.]
The disciple, unnerved by the intense scrutiny, stumbled and shot Li Wei a glare. "What are you staring at, freak? Come to mock?"
Li Wei didn't answer. He was focused on the data. The flaw was a rhythmic stutter in the disciple's spiritual signature, a bug in the technique's execution. With his First Glimpse, he could see it clearly—a pulsing, discordant node in the flow of energy around the disciple's core.
Hypothesis, Li Wei thought. A localized, minimal application of conceptual authority can correct a minor error in execution.
He raised his hand, not in a threatening manner, but as if adjusting an invisible dial. He focused on that discordant node and exerted his will. He didn't attack it. He didn't disrupt it. He simply... recompiled it.
It was a whisper of effort, a single line of code edited in the vast program of reality.
The disciple, expecting a retort or an attack, flinched. But nothing happened. Confused, he returned to his form, his sword slicing through the air.
And then it changed.
The clumsy, jerky movements smoothed out. The sword began to flow, its path becoming genuinely unpredictable, the Qi around it humming with a harmonious, continuous energy. The "Rippling Stream" was no longer a flawed imitation; for a few moments, it became the real thing. The disciple's eyes widened in shock and ecstasy as he felt the technique click into place for the first time in his life.
He stopped, staring at his sword, then at Li Wei, his face a mask of utter confusion. "What... what did you do?"
Li Wei gave a slight, knowing nod. "I corrected a timing error. Your spiritual cycle was out of sync with the form's principle. It was... inefficient."
He turned and walked away, leaving the disciple staring after him, a mix of awe and terror in his eyes. The boy hadn't been healed or empowered. He had been debugged.
The display did not go unnoticed.
From a raised pavilion overlooking the courtyard, two figures observed the scene. Elder Guo, a stout man with a fiery temper responsible for training the outer sect, and the serene, ever-watchful Su Lian.
"Did you see that?" Elder Guo muttered, his brow furrowed. "He didn't use Qi. He didn't even move. It was as if he... spoke to the technique itself and it obeyed."
Su Lian's expression was unreadable, but her knuckles were white where she gripped the railing. The air around her was perfectly still, a stark contrast to the faint, almost imperceptible warping she felt around Li Wei. "He operates on a different axis, Elder. Not power, but principle."
"Principle?" Elder Guo scoffed, though his eyes betrayed his unease. "It's witchcraft. Or demonic possession. A Qi-blocked cripple does not 'correct' the cultivation of others." His gaze hardened. "It's time his principle met some real power."
He gestured to a broad-shouldered disciple standing at attention nearby. "Bai Gang. Go. Test the cripple. I want to see the limits of his... efficiency."
Bai Gang, a young man built like a stone wall, grinned. He was a 6th-stage Qi Condensation expert, renowned for his brute strength and mastery of the "Mountain-Splitting Fist." He was a sledgehammer, and Li Wei was a puzzle he was eager to smash.
Li Wei felt the shift in the courtyard's atmosphere before he saw the mountain of muscle approaching. The other disciples scrambled back, creating a wide ring. This was not going to be a subtle test of conceptual authority.
[SCANNING HOSTILE ENTITY: 'BAI GANG'. CULTIVATION: 6TH STAGE QI CONDENSATION. CORE TECHNIQUE: 'MOUNTAIN-SPLITTING FIST' (HIGHLY STABLE). PHYSICAL MASS: 98 KILOGRAMS. THREAT ASSESSMENT: HIGH.]
[ZERO: OH, A BIG ONE! OKAY, NO FANCY DEBUGGING THIS TIME. HE'S TOO DENSE. WE NEED A MORE... FUNDAMENTAL SOLUTION.]
[APEX: RECALCULATING. THE HOST LACKS THE PHYSICAL MASS TO ABSORB A DIRECT IMPACT. EVASION IS THE ONLY LOGICAL COURSE.]
Bai Gang didn't bother with words. He roared, and the Qi in the courtyard surged towards him, condensing around his right fist until it glowed with a dull, rocky light. He charged, each step shaking the ground, his fist pulled back to deliver a blow that could indeed crack a boulder.
Li Wei stood his ground. Evasion was logical, but it was also a temporary solution. He needed to make a statement. He needed to show that his path was not just clever tricks, but a fundamental force.
He activated his First Glimpse.
The charging Bai Gang was no longer a man, but a complex system of bio-mechanical data. Muscles contracting, tendons straining, Qi flowing in a powerful, predictable circuit. And the ground beneath his feet? It was a network of packed earth, stone, and root systems. A data structure with its own properties.
The "Mountain-Splitting Fist" was powerful, but it relied on a stable foundation. It required a firm connection to the "ground" data-type to transfer its reactive force.
What if, Li Wei thought, his mind working at lightning speed, I temporarily change the properties of that data-type?
As Bai Gang's foot came down for his final, decisive step, Li Wei focused all his will, all the silvery energy of the Xinxi Catalyst, onto a single, dinner-plate-sized patch of earth directly in the disciple's path.
He didn't try to break it. He didn't try to soften it.
He edited its fundamental definition.
For the duration of a single heartbeat, that patch of ground ceased to be a "solid surface." In the local reality, it became a "frictionless plane."
Bai Gang's foot, expecting solid resistance, found none. It slid forward as if on sheer ice. His powerful stance, the foundation of his technique, disintegrated. His body, committed to a forward thrust with immense force, had nothing to push against. His legs flew out from under him, and the Mountain-Splitting Fist, with all its terrifying power, sailed harmlessly over Li Wei's head as Bai Gang crashed to the ground back-first with a colossal THUD that knocked the wind from his lungs.
The impact was not from Li Wei's strike. It was from Bai Gang's own, redirected power.
The courtyard was dead silent. No one had seen Li Wei do anything. He had just stood there, and the mighty Bai Gang had literally slipped and fallen flat on his back.
Li Wei looked down at the wheezing, confused disciple.
"Your foundation was unstable," Li Wei said, his voice cutting through the silence. "You relied on the earth to be solid, without understanding the principle of what 'solidity' truly is. It was... inefficient."
He turned and walked towards the exit. This time, no one even thought of blocking his path. They stared at the patch of perfectly normal, packed earth where Bai Gang had fallen, their understanding of the world fracturing.
Elder Guo on the pavilion was pale. "He... he altered the Dao of the earth itself? For an instant? That's... that's not possible."
Su Lian finally released her grip on the railing. A single, perfect flower had bloomed and withered to dust on the wooden beam beside her hand, its life cycle compressed into a single moment of her turbulent emotion.
"He is not altering the Dao," she whispered, her voice laced with a terrifying awe. "He is speaking the language that the Dao was written in."
Far above, in the silent void between stars, a single, celestial character—the rune for "Stability"—flickered.
To be continued...