"Ding!"
EXP: 100 / 100
+1 Host Attribute
The clear chime rang in Lin Hao's mind, cutting through the din of the competition grounds like a knife through silk. It was precise, cold, and carried an authority that ignored the roar of the crowd entirely.
The competition still raged behind him—cheers, jeers, and the clash of weapons rising in waves—but Lin Hao had already turned his back. He left the trial grounds without hurry, his steps steady and deliberate.
The Ji Clan estate was a masterpiece of wealth and influence. White jade tiles paved the walkways, bordered by flower beds bursting with spirit herbs whose faint glow lit the path even in the day. Decorative pavilions sat in landscaped gardens, and koi swam lazily in jade-green ponds fed by crystal streams.
Yet for all its beauty, Lin Hao knew it was just gilding over rot.
He had barely taken ten steps before the first whispers began.
"Isn't that Lin Hao?" a young maid in pale green murmured, her tone laced with amusement.
"Leaving already? He didn't even watch the rest of the competition," another said, failing to hide her smirk.
"Perhaps he's embarrassed," an older servant added in a mock-sympathetic tone. "Poor Madam Ji Chuyan…"
"Poor? She's the most talented woman in the clan! Marrying him is like… like pairing a celestial swan with a crippled chicken."
A muffled giggle followed.
Their words were pitched just low enough to be deniable, but their eyes flicked toward him to see if he had heard.
Lin Hao's gaze didn't waver. His pace didn't falter. But inside, he engraved each word, each voice, into his memory. His lips curled—not in warmth, but in something razor-sharp.
Mock me now. Your turn will come.
He passed under a carved archway into the inner residence. Here, the mockery was subtler but no less poisonous. A middle-aged servant bowed low as Lin Hao approached, but his voice was dripping with false courtesy.
"Back so soon, Young Master? You must have tired yourself watching all those real fighters."
The nearby servants chuckled quietly.
Lin Hao walked past as if the man were air, his calm expression giving them nothing to feed on. Yet, his fingers tightened briefly at his side before relaxing again.
Finally, he reached his quarters. The air here was still, almost heavy. He shut the door with a soft click, slid the window lattice closed, and the estate's noise faded into silence.
He called up his system panel in his mind.
[Host Attributes: 1 Available]
Cultivation Realm: Body Refinement Realm )
A single attribute point gleamed like a lone spark in the darkness.
Immediately, a torrent of incomprehensible information poured into his consciousness like a flood bursting through a dam. It wasn't just knowledge; it was sensation. He could feel the structural mapping of his body's meridians, the density of his bones, the hidden potential lying dormant in every cell.
A faint groan escaped his lips. His brows knitted together as if enduring a headache, but he remained still, allowing the foreign information to sink into the depths of his mind. His breathing slowed. Heartbeat steadied. Gradually, the flood turned into a stream, and then into a calm lake of understanding.
When he opened his eyes again, there was a strange light in them—clarity, like a man who had just awakened from years of ignorance.
He took a slow breath, shut the window, and latched the door. The world outside no longer mattered.
He sat cross-legged for a moment, letting the insights settle, then rose to his feet and began the first sequence of the One Body, Multiple Physiques technique.
The initial posture was simple: feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, arms raised as though holding an invisible sphere. But as soon as he drew in the first breath according to the manual's rhythm, something shifted.
A faint vibration rippled through his muscles, like a deep hum from within. His joints popped softly. His tendons stretched and recoiled like tightened bowstrings. The technique's movements were fluid yet precise—his stance one moment rooted like a mountain, the next flowing like a river.
Heat began to build in his chest, spreading outward. It wasn't the wild, burning heat of exhaustion, but a deep, internal warmth, as though his very blood had awakened from a long slumber.
By the time the first sequence ended, his entire body was flushed. Steam rose faintly from his skin, curling in the dim lamplight. Sweat soaked his hair and dripped down his jawline. His breathing was steady, but each exhale felt like it carried out the impurities buried deep in his body.
He opened his panel. His eyes widened.
[Cultivation Level: Body Refinement Realm – Early Stage]
Just like that, he had stepped into a realm that countless commoners could only dream of touching.
But he didn't stop there.
He began the second sequence. His muscles responded more eagerly this time, every motion tighter, sharper. His feet gripped the floor with unshakable stability; his arms cut through the air like tempered steel. The breathing patterns drew energy inward, refining it, compressing it into the very fibers of his being.
By the end of the second sequence, the warmth in his body had intensified into a surging vitality. His heart pounded in rhythm with his steps, and his skin was redder than before, the heat rolling off him like smoke from a forge.
[Cultivation Level: Body Refinement Realm – Medium Stage]
His lips curved upward slightly. The gap between Early and Medium Stage could take ordinary cultivators months, even years, of bitter practice to cross. For him, it had taken minutes.
But Lin Hao had no intention of stopping.
The third sequence came with a new depth—each motion slower, heavier, yet somehow more lethal. The strain this time was real; his bones creaked audibly, and a deep ache spread across his limbs. But within that ache was growth. He could feel his body knitting itself stronger with each precise breath.
The fourth sequence pushed him further. His vision swam, and his muscles trembled as though resisting the transformation. But he clenched his teeth and pressed on.
The fifth, the sixth…
By the seventh sequence, his body felt like a war drum beaten by a hundred hammers. Every heartbeat was thunder in his ears. The heat inside him was nearly unbearable, yet it carried with it an intoxicating sense of power, as if he could crush boulders with his bare hands.
When he finally completed the eighth sequence, he exhaled a long breath, releasing a thin, black mist of impurities. His entire body felt lighter, cleaner. His senses were sharper; he could hear the faint crackle of the oil lamp and smell the subtle fragrance of the wooden beams in his room.
He checked his panel once more.
[Cultivation Level: Body Refinement Realm – Grand Completion Stage]
He stared at the words for a long moment. Just hours ago, he had been the object of mockery, a supposed weakling with no cultivation. Now, his body contained a power that could shatter the bones of anyone who dared to underestimate him.
Lin Hao sat back down, his breathing gradually returning to normal.
The One Body, Multiple Physiques technique was only at its first step. The mortal-grade physique within him now was just the foundation. In the future, it could evolve—into Xiantian, Saint, or even Immortal Physiques. It would demand resources, battles, and countless trials.
But for tonight, he had crossed a threshold.
Outside, the world still thought of him as a powerless son-in-law. They would continue to sneer, to whisper, to look down on him. And Lin Hao would let them.
Because the day would come when their sneers would turn to awe… and their whispers to silence.