The enemy was small, rectangular, and made of glass.
Chen Wei sat cross-legged on the California King bed of the Presidential Suite, staring at the object with the same intensity he once used to decipher the Heavenly Demon Scriptures. The air in the room smelled faintly of ozone—the scent of an Immortal Emperor's rising frustration.
"Identify yourself," Chen Wei commanded the object.
The smartphone—a sleek 2034 Huawei Mate X-Pro—remained silent. The screen was black.
"It defies spiritual sense," Chen Wei muttered, tapping the screen with a fingernail that could slice through dragon scales. "No Qi signature. No spirit formation. Yet Liu Yue said this is how I speak to the children."
He recalled her instructions from the previous night, delivered with ice-cold precision: Buy a phone. Download WeChat. Don't come to my house uninvited. Send a message first.
"Send a message," Chen Wei whispered. "A trial of intent."
He pressed his thumb against the screen.
CRACK.
A hairline fracture appeared on the Gorilla Glass.
"Too hard," he scolded himself. He took a deep breath, suppressing the physical strength of the Eternal Void Physique. He tried again, touching the glass as if it were a soap bubble.
The screen lit up. A robotic female voice chirped.
"Welcome. Please configure Face ID."
Chen Wei straightened his posture. He smoothed his silver-streaked hair. He held the phone up, staring into the front camera.
The screen showed his face. Then, his right eye—the void-purple one—flared with irritation.
BZZZT.
The image on the screen distorted. Static lines tore through the digital reflection. The camera lens made a high-pitched whining sound as it tried to process the infinite energy density of a void pupil.
"Error," the phone announced. "Face not detected. Subject appears to be... a nebula? Please try again."
"I am not a nebula!" Chen Wei argued. "I am your master!"
Knock. Knock.
The heavy oak door of the suite shuddered. Chen Wei didn't move from the bed. His Divine Sense swept out, identifying the knocker: The Hotel Manager. Heart rate 110. Sweating.
"Enter," Chen Wei said. His voice carried a trace of Royal Command, causing the lock to click open automatically.
The manager stumbled in, clutching a clipboard. He looked at the man in the black t-shirt sitting amidst floating pillows (Chen Wei hadn't noticed the gravity dampening in the room).
"Mr... Chen?" the manager squeaked. "We... uh... there is an issue with the payment. The credit card on file was declined. It seems to be... non-existent?"
"Payment," Chen Wei repeated. He looked at the phone. He couldn't even unlock it, let alone use 'AliPay'.
"Yes, sir. Fifty thousand yuan for the week. If you could just scan the QR code..."
Chen Wei sighed. Mortal currency. So tedious.
He looked around the room. His eyes landed on a decorative vase on the nightstand. It was filled with smooth, grey river stones.
"I do not have 'scan'," Chen Wei admitted, standing up. The pillows dropped back to the bed. "But I have equivalents."
He picked up a grey stone. It was roughly the size of an egg.
He closed his hand around it. A pulse of purple light flashed between his fingers—so fast it looked like a camera flash. Inside his palm, atomic structures were rearranged. Protons were added. Electrons shifted. The molecular lattice of stone was rewritten into the density of a noble metal.
He opened his hand.
The grey stone was gone. In its place sat a nugget of pure, 24-karat gold, still warm from the transmutation.
He tossed it to the manager.
The manager caught it, his hands sagging from the unexpected weight. He stared at the object. He bit it. His eyes bulged.
"Keep the change," Chen Wei said, sitting back down. "Now leave. I am battling the glass demon."
The manager backed out of the room, bowing terrifiedly. "Yes... yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
As soon as the door closed, the manager sprinted for the elevator to call the police. Paying with raw, unhallmarked gold bullion was the hallmark of an international smuggler, not a guest.
Chen Wei returned to the war.
"Face ID failed," he muttered. "Passcode required."
He typed in 1-2-3-4-5-6.
"Weak Passcode," the phone mocked.
"You dare judge me?" Chen Wei's eyebrow twitched. The ozone smell intensified. "I have sealed demons in dimensions of eternal silence. I will not be insulted by a calculator."
He grabbed the phone with both hands. He needed to download WeChat. He needed to find the 'App Store'. He pressed the side button and the volume button simultaneously, trying to force a restart.
He squeezed.
"EMERGENCY SOS ACTIVATED," the phone shrieked. "CALLING EMERGENCY SERVICES IN 5... 4..."
A siren wailed from the speakers. It was deafening.
Chen Wei's combat instincts took over. A threat. An alarm. Was the device about to detonate? Was it a cultivation trap?
"Shield!"
He threw the phone into the air. He slashed his hand, creating a localized Void Vacuum around the device to contain the blast. The phone floated in mid-air, suspended in a purple bubble of distorted space, still wailing.
"...2... 1... CONNECTING TO POLICE."
Through the void bubble, a tinny voice shouted. "This is Shanghai Police Dispatch. What is your emergency?"
"The artifact is screaming!" Chen Wei shouted back at the floating phone. "How do I silence the spirit?!"
"Sir? Are you in danger? We are tracing your location. Stay on the line."
"I am not in danger," Chen Wei declared, his eyes glowing. "I am the danger! But this button is stuck!"
Ten minutes later, the window shattered.
Not from Chen Wei's power, but from a police drone smashing through the glass. It hovered in the room, red and blue lights flashing.
"FREEZE!" a loudspeaker boomed. "DROP THE WEAPON!"
Chen Wei looked at the drone. He looked at the floating phone. He looked at the gold nugget the manager had left on the floor in his panic.
"I..." Chen Wei raised his hands. "My bad."
Twenty Minutes Later.
The hotel room was crowded. Two police officers stood by the door, looking confused. The hotel manager was hyperventilating in the corner.
And Liu Yue was pinching the bridge of her nose.
She stood in the center of the room, radiating an aura that was colder than Chen Wei's void energy. She wore her signature ice-white suit, her heels clicking a rhythmic beat of pure annoyance on the hardwood floor.
"Let me get this straight," she said, her voice dangerously calm. "You tried to pay for the room by turning a rock into gold—which is technically counterfeiting federal currency, by the way—and then you called the SWAT team because you couldn't download WeChat?"
Chen Wei sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his combat boots. The fraying edges of his black coat seemed to droop in shame.
"The device... it mocked me," he mumbled. "And the Face ID refused to recognize my pupil density."
"It's a phone, Chen Wei. It doesn't mock people." Liu Yue sighed. She turned to the police officers.
"Officers, I apologize," she said, switching instantly to CEO mode. "My... ex-husband has recently returned from a very long time abroad. In a remote monastery. Without technology. The gold is a prop from his theater troupe. I will pay the bill and the damages immediately."
She held up her phone. A quick scan, a transfer of funds, and a flash of her digital ID. The officers recognized the name Yue Corporation. Their stance relaxed instantly.
"Of course, CEO Liu," the officer said, holstering his taser. "Just... tell him not to transmute—I mean, use prop gold next time."
As the room cleared out, Chen Wei finally looked up.
"I fixed the phone, though," he offered weakly. He pointed to the device on the table. The screen was cracked, but it was silent.
Liu Yue stared at him. "You are the most powerful headache I have ever met."
"I missed you too," he said, and for a second, a genuine, sheepish smile broke through his ancient features.
From the hallway, a laugh echoed.
Chen Wei looked past Liu Yue. Leaning against the doorframe was Chen Long.
His son. The boy who had wanted to punch him yesterday.
Chen Long was wearing a hoodie and headphones around his neck. He was looking at Chen Wei not with anger, or suspicion, but with pure, unadulterated amusement.
He smirked.
"Mom," Chen Long said, shaking his head. "He summoned the cops on a Siri shortcut. That's... actually impressive."
Chen Wei blinked. His son was smiling. At him. Or rather, at his stupidity. But it was a smile.
"I..." Chen Wei stammered. He looked at the phone, then at his son. He stood up, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I may be a god," Chen Wei admitted, the ozone scent fading into the warm smell of sandalwood. "But I appear to be a terrible modern human. I'm working on the second part."
Chen Long chuckled. He walked over, picked up the cracked phone, and swiped up with his thumb.
"Give it here, old man," Chen Long said. "I'll set up your WeChat. But don't add me yet."
Chen Wei watched his son's fingers fly across the screen. He felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with cultivation.
Prediction Error, he thought. I expected a battle. I found... tech support.