Weakness Period: Day 3, 14 hours remaining.
The morning sun filtered through Tianmen Ridge's ancient trees, casting mottled shadows across the small courtyard behind the village's main hall. Dew glistened on stone benches, and the crisp mountain air carried the scent of pine and distant woodsmoke. Lin Che sat cross-legged on a worn stone bench, his pale face glistening with faint sweat. While his legs no longer shook when he stood, each movement still cost him dearly—every spiritual vein in his body felt like it was wrapped in barbed wire.
[System Update: Host recovery progress: 65%. Projected weakness period termination: 14 hours.]
[⚠️ Warning: Detecting excessive strain on meridians. Forcing cultivation now is like trying to sprint with broken legs—sure, you can, but you'll regret it. Recommendation: Lie down, do nothing, and pretend you're a decorative corpse. Very therapeutic.]
Lin Che ignored the system, his jaw set with determination. He didn't have the luxury of rest—not with the Black Wind Village initiation task looming in three days, and a Nascent Soul realm old man who'd stolen 500 of his spirit stones still lurking around. Every minute of preparation counted double when you were being hunted by both the Zhao Family remnants and mysterious interdimensional powers.
"Brother!" A cheerful voice broke his concentration. Lin Ying came trotting across the courtyard, carefully balancing a steaming bowl of chicken soup. Her small face was flushed with pride and exertion, a smudge of flour on her left cheek. "Teacher Wen says you'll recover faster if you drink this! I helped pluck the chicken and everything!"
[Chicken Soup Nutrition Analysis: Protein: 3.2g. Spiritual energy: 0.01 units. Therapeutic effect: Statistically insignificant, but sisterly affection component: MAXIMUM. Heartwarming buff: +50% mental fortitude.]
Lin Che's stern expression softened as he accepted the bowl. The soup was lukewarm, clearly having been carried with great care across the village, and thin—more broth than meat. But he drank it in one go, the warm, salty liquid coating his parched throat and bringing genuine relief. For a moment, the constant ache in his meridines eased.
"Thank you,Yingying. Now go back to your lessons. And wash your face—you've got flour on your cheek."
"Okay!" She scampered off, pigtails bouncing, then paused at the courtyard gate. "Brother, Teacher Wen says I'm his best student! I learned five new characters today! Soon I'll be able to read the wanted posters they put up for you!"
As her footsteps faded, heavy boots sounded on the wooden planks. Shi Jin emerged from the main hall, his massive frame blocking the sunlight like a walking fortress. He carried his signature mountain-splitting axe over one shoulder, the blade still stained with dried sap from morning woodcutting. Scratching his bushy beard with his free hand, he held out a rolled goatskin.
"Brother Lin, I've gathered everything on Black Wind Village." He unrolled the scroll with thick, calloused fingers, pointing at crude drawings and scribbled notes. "The main beast is a Foundation Establishment demonic bear—nearly thirty feet tall when it rears up. Five Qi Condensing stage lieutenants, each commanding a squad. Fifty Body Tempering minions, all armed to the teeth with stolen enchanted weapons."
Lin Che's eyes narrowed as they traced the scroll's details, memorizing every position and name. His finger stopped at a line near the bottom, inked in smaller, neater script that spoke of careful intelligence gathering. "Heaven Profound Sect disciples conduct patrols on the fifteenth of each month? Like clockwork?"
"Every month, rain or shine." Shi Jin spat on the ground, his face twisted with decades-old contempt. "Those self-righteous immortal bastards treat Black Wind Village like their personal guard dog. They feed that bear spiritual herbs, make it watch over some secret treasure or another. Probably something they stole from some poor sod like us."
[System Keyword Cross-Reference: "Heaven Profound Sect". Correlation with Canglan Realm map coordinates: 99.7% match. Probability of coincidence: 0.03%. Host's paranoia rating: JUSTIFIED.]
"Lao Ma was telling the truth," Lin Che murmured, half to himself, his mind already calculating the implications. If a major sect from another realm was involved, this wasn't just a bandit problem—it was a powder keg that could blow up his entire cultivation path.
[System Personality Analysis: Lao Ma's credibility rating: 51% ± 12%. Recommendation: Believe him halfway, sleep with one eye open, and tie your money pouch with triple knots reinforced by spiritual formations. Also, maybe stop calling him "Lao Ma" and start calling him "That Thieving Nascent Soul Bastard."]
Setting the scroll aside, Lin Che met Shi Jin's gaze directly, letting his spiritual pressure—weak as it was—flow forward. "Chief Shi, before we move on Black Wind Village, I have one non-negotiable condition. Consider it the price of my sword."
The burly bandit leader straightened, sensing the shift in tone from negotiation to demand. "Speak it plain."
"I'll deliver Black Wind Village's destruction to you on a silver platter," Lin Che's voice remained quiet but carried the weight of forged steel, "but Tianmen Village must fundamentally change how it operates. No more robbery. No more raids on merchant caravans. The old ways end today."
The words hung in the air like a suspended sword. Shi Jin's bushy eyebrows shot up in genuine shock, his hand instinctively tightening on his axe shaft. "If we don't rob, what in heaven's name do my brothers eat? Mountain rocks and tree bark? Spiritual energy doesn't fill empty stomachs, Brother Lin."
"Collect tolls." Lin Che leaned forward, letting his intensity show despite his weakened state. "Position yourselves as guardians of Tianmen Ridge. Offer escort services through the dangerous passes. Charge ten percent of a caravan's cargo value for safe passage. It's safer than banditry, more honorable, and provides predictable, steady income that won't dry up when the empire sends an army."
[Business Model Analysis: Feasibility: 78.3%. Projected profit margin: 65%. Host demonstrates unexpected MBA-level strategic thinking. Recommendation: Consider career change from cultivator to CEO. Or maybe start a cult—seems to be working so far.]
Shi Jin stroked his beard thoughtfully, his initial resistance melting into curiosity. The numbers made sense to a man who'd been counting spoils his whole life. "Continue. You've got my full attention. How do we convince merchants we're legitimate after years of robbing them?"
"Establish a proper inn at the mountain base," Lin Che pressed his advantage, the words flowing like he'd planned this for months. "Caravans pay tolls, then stay at our inn. We profit from rooms, food, wine, gambling—and yes, even a brothel for those interested. Every service extracts more coin from the same traffic. We become a destination, not just a tollbooth."
[Synergy Effect Calculated: Compound business model projects 300% income increase within six months. Chief's interest level: 92% (visibly salivating). Risk of bandit revolt: Only 12%. Most of these guys are tired of sleeping with one eye open.]