The siege of Bei Luo City had ended, and a deep silence now fell upon the battered city walls. Where war drums once thundered, only stillness remained; victory belonged unequivocally to the defenders. Ice-clear moonlight poured through carved crimson shutters, painting mottled white patterns across the courtyard floor. Beneath the pale glow, soldiers stood at ease, still flush with triumph yet calm and orderly. In that serene aftermath, the tension of battle gently gave way to a comforting calm.
Lu Fan sat upright in his wheelchair, but his eyes were locked on the system interface hovering before him. Data flickered across its display as he scanned it: Host: Lu Fan; Title: Qi Refiner (Permanent); Permissions: [Task], [Dao Transmission Platform], [Spirit Qi Deployment]. It also noted, "The defense of Bei Luo City concluded at nightfall." Lu Fan's heart sank. Only two attribute points awarded – plus the newly unlocked Dao Transmission Platform permission? He had expected far more for such a battle. The numbers looked impressive at first glance, but in practice they felt nearly worthless – like letting out a single, feeble pfft that barely registered.
The system panel listed the quest rewards and permissions exactly:Lu Fan blinked and closed the panel. A new message suddenly echoed in his mind: "To transform this low-martial world into a Xuanhuan world must be done gradually; one cannot swallow a big fat pig in a single bite." He stared at his own reflection in the glassy interface. The tip sounded like a proverb from a crazy old sage – grandiose but utterly absurd. Inwardly he cursed: this damn cunning system really took pleasure in toying with him. No sooner had he absorbed that, when the system blasted another bizarre command at him:
Lu Fan blinked. "Refine Qi one hundred layers?" he muttered in disbelief. What in the world was that supposed to mean? It felt as if the system had plucked every ridiculous cultivation trope from fantasy novels. In those books, reaching even ten Qi-Refinement layers was breaking new ground; here this lunatic system demanded a hundred. He let out a rueful chuckle and shook his head. "So that's the angle? In this pathetic low-martial world, the only one delusional is this damned system," he thought dryly. "Fine, I'll grind out a hundred layers — just for you, oh scummy system."
Meanwhile, in the room opposite Lu Fan's, Ning Zhao sat in quiet contemplation. On the tiled rooftop, she knelt cross-legged, her white skirt pooled around her and dark hair flowing loosely over her shoulders. The full moon hung high, its pale light draping her in a gentle radiance. Her eyes were distant and dreamy under that moonlight, a soft haze of fatigue and worry in them. All night she had watched over Lu Fan, and now as she glanced toward him through the window, her thoughts also turned to the two fragile wisps of Qi in her own dantian. Cultivating them had been excruciating; she had hit a ceiling she could not easily break. With a soft sigh, she realized her own progress had stalled.
As she flipped through the Chuangxuan Foundation Qi Scroll she had obtained earlier, a line of golden characters seemed to leap off the page:
Ning Zhao's brow lifted. Setting the scroll gently aside, she placed a hand on the small console beside her. Almost immediately, the system produced a message:She noted the update on the console: "Spirit Qi: 8 strands" and "Transformation Reward: Chuangxuan Foundation Qi Scroll," along with her newly granted permissions. A line below showed her vitals: "Body Strength: 0.5" and "Soul Strength: 0.5."
She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them with renewed resolve. "This young master has already exhausted himself on my behalf," she thought. "I cannot afford to be lazy. I must grow stronger and not squander the opportunity he has given me." Clenching her fist around the scroll, Ning Zhao murmured under her breath, "Use this Qi Refinement scroll only with the Dao Transmission Platform permission."
At that moment, Lu Fan snapped out of his reverie. He hadn't been dozing at all, but was deep in thought, processing the changes on the system interface. He noticed a subtle shift: apart from the unchanged world rating of "Wu Huang Continent [Low Martial]," a progress bar had appeared under his Qi Refinement level. Most importantly, his Soul Strength had jumped from 0.5 to 2.5. The updated panel read:
His eyes lit up. "So that's how it works," he muttered softly. "Tasks can give different rewards depending on how you do them… I need to be very careful with how I spend my points." Suddenly a clear insight struck him like a jolt. One hundred strands of Spirit Qi, if deployed with his permission, would multiply into ten thousand strands at the destination. Now that made sense — it was exactly the trick the system had hinted at. Lu Fan's lips curled into a crooked grin of wry satisfaction. "Cunning merchant indeed," he thought. Begrudgingly, he realized there was no choice but to follow the system's exact instructions.
He had assumed the quest reward would be in the hundreds or thousands of Qi strands, but this pitiful few made him laugh bitterly. Only by playing by the system's rules would he stand a chance to grow stronger. From her vantage point, Ning Zhao watched him intently. Even in the dim moonlight, she could see his eyes open behind closed lids, and the firm set of his jaw. He has set his goal, then — one hundred layers of Qi. She felt a surge of admiration and concern for him.
Midnight deepened, and Lu Fan sat in his wheelchair bathed in cold moonlight. His eyes stared into the darkness, distant and unfocused, lost in contemplation. A wry, rueful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he whispered to himself, "Looks like there's no free lunch after all. The grind starts now." The path to the Qi Refinement stage was long and arduous, and there were no shortcuts. Yet in the quiet of the night, under the tranquil sky, his resolve was as clear as the moonlight above. He would take it step by step, just as the system demanded, no matter how impossible it seemed.