Two days had passed since the intense, reality-shattering confrontation with City Lord Zhang and Lin Ruolan's subsequent emotional breakdown and pledge of absolute loyalty. Two days during which the undercurrents of Qingshan Town began to shift subtly, yet perceptibly -- stirred by the ripples emanating from the Jiang residence and the Administrative Palace.
The waters were becoming muddied, just as I intended.
Ruolan reported, with her usual professional brevity, that Alchemist Chen, armed now with the City Lord's official seal and likely a hefty retainer drawn from the city's treasury, had begun his methodical, discreet investigation into Mei'er's tragic death. His initial efforts, starting with a thorough examination of Mei'er's dwelling and questioning relevant staff at the Serene Phoenix Pavilion, had yielded some crucial – dare I say chilling – insights. While the Silent Meridian Frost itself left minimal trace after its work was done, Chen's expertise allowed him to detect faint residual patterns and deduce the likely vector.
As I suspected, it wasn't the wine, nor any food item, as that held too much of a possibility of causing a highly visible massacre – something the killer obviously took great pains to avoid. Chen's conclusion, delivered with grim certainty according to Ruolan, was that the poison was likely administered via a contaminated personal item: a skin ointment Mei'er used regularly, switched out by the perpetrator. The poison was designed to be absorbed slowly through the skin, harmlessly at first, thus enabling transfer through touch, but was rapidly activated by contact with Qi-rich flesh. In this way, it would only reach lethal concentration in the mortal victim hours later, while triggering its effects much faster in a cultivator target like myself.
Furthermore, Chen asserted that modifying Silent Meridian Frost into such a sophisticated, delayed-action contact poison required significant skill – expertise at the level of a Peak Third-Rate Alchemist, at the very least. Within the confines of Qingshan Town, only Alchemist Chen himself possessed such esteemed capabilities. Assuming Chen himself wasn't the culprit (which seemed unlikely given his actions and reputation), this pointed towards the involvement of an external expert, a third party employed specifically for this task, or, potentially, a skilled member of a powerful family or organization. Sadly, this narrowed the field only slightly – eliminating crude local thugs and, likely, also the wealthy but unconnected "nobodies" like the Miao clan – but, it still left a terrifyingly broad range of possibilities, including my own family or powerful regional rivals. For now, at least, the trail had gone… cold.
Still, Chen's official presence, asking pointed questions under the City Lord's authority, sent quiet ripples of unease through Madam Xue's carefully managed establishment and – perhaps – alerted interested parties that the matter was not being quietly buried.
Excellent.
Simultaneously, Jin Bao, fueled by my praise, the tangible reward of unfathomable wealth, and his own boundless ambition, had activated his network of contacts within the city's less savory underbelly. Whispers, subtle at first but growing bolder, began to circulate in the city's gathering places – the smoky backrooms of wine shops, the crowded tables of gambling dens, the exclusive booths of high-class teahouses, even among the servants of prominent local merchant families. Carefully crafted rumors about the upcoming Myriad Treasures Pavilion auction in Fallen Star City began to spread: whispers of unexpected, trulyrare middle-grade artifacts surfacing; hints of treasures far exceeding the initial announcements; and, most intriguingly, suggestions of the potential participation of the enigmatic, disgustingly wealthy Young Master Jiang Li, who might – if the mood struck him, if the offerings and caliber of those in attendance were worthy – even deign to part with priceless treasures from his own mysterious collection.
The stage was being set for a new grand performance in two weeks' time.
But my own focus, after securing Ruolan's absolute trust (or at least her terrified commitment) and setting those external plots in motion, had shifted sharply inward. It centered on the glaring, potentially fatal vulnerability exposed by Mei'er's fate: my utter lack of personal combat capabilities. Wealth was merely a shield, effective against certain threats but useless against others. Reputation, even one as potent as my newly christened 'Righteous & Unpredictable Scion (Vast Resources)', was an intangible deterrent, easily shattered by a well-aimed blade in the dark. Against any real cultivator, against a competent Martial Artist skilled in assassination, against whatever ruthless enemy had already tried to kill me once and murdered an innocent girl in the process… these were ultimately just paper defenses.
The vow I'd made over Mei'er's cold body demanded more than just finding the killer; it demanded the strength to deliver justice, and, crucially, the strength to survive long enough to do so.
Yes, my Stage Five Qi Gathering cultivation felt potent. Indeed, it was a level of personal power the original Jiang Li (let alone Leo Maxwell) couldn't have conceived of reaching any time soon. There was no question that I was now a superhuman.
My Qi-enhanced physique was strong enough to bench press a couple of bulls.
Fast enough to outsprint a galloping horse.
Dexterous and agile enough to perform feats of balance and coordination that would have left the most dedicated Cirque du Soleil performers back home green with envy.
And yet… all of that power was untested, unhoned by practice or battle. Leo Maxwell, the actor, knew only stage combat – choreographed flourishes, illusions of violence, how to look dangerous without being dangerous. The closest applicable skill he possessed was knowing how to fall without hurting himself.
Jiang Li, the spoiled young master, wasn't much better. He knew only the bitter taste of failure in basic cultivation drills and the humiliation of being surpassed by his younger brother.
Neither persona was equipped for a real, life-or-death fight against a determined opponent, especially a cultivator.
And hence, the experiment. A risky, perhaps even utterly foolish, delve into the deeper functions of the Borrowed Face System.
Could belief manifest not just objects, attributes, or wealth, but also intangible skills? Could I make people believe I was good at something I was not – and become good at it by virtue of that belief?
More specifically, could I manifest the power of a skilled Martial Artist, someone who trained in the cultivation of Xue Qi – Blood Qi – a set of abilities entirely separate from my current Spirit Qi path?
The conventional wisdom, ingrained deeply within Jiang Li's memories from years of cultivator-centric education and societal prejudice, rebelled against the very idea. The so-called Double Cultivation (apparently not to be confused with Dual Cultivation, which, according to what I could get out of Ruolan before she ran away in embarrassment, is a euphemism for some kind of cultivator sex thing) – i.e., attempting to master both the internal, body-derived Xue Qi of the martial path and the external, world-derived Spirit Qi of the immortal path – is almost universally seen as folly. It is considered a path for the desperate, the unfocused, and – mostly – those hopelessly untalented in Spirit Qi cultivation trying to grasp at any form of power. Why waste precious time, limited lifespan, and valuable resources tempering the inherently limited physical body with Xue Qi when the limitless potential of the Great Dao, accessed through Spirit Qi, beckoned towards the heavens, towards transcendence itself?
After all, Xue Qi cultivation, as everyone knew, had a hard ceiling – the Martial Grandmaster realm. Reaching that peak required both immense talent and decades of brutal training, granting power far beyond ordinary mortals. Martial Grandmasters were capable of external manifestation of Blood Qi for devastating physical strikes or weapon manipulation at a distance, and their lifespans expanded significantly compared to mortal commoners... but all of that power is still fundamentally bound by the limits of flesh and blood. It is, therefore, considered to be a dead end by any serious cultivator, a distraction from the true path.
Why waste time polishing mundane stone when you could be carving celestial jade instead?
Yet… Leo Maxwell, the actor, the lifelong student of stories, narrative arcs, and dramatic convention, felt that familiar, insistent tingling in his gut, the intuition honed by reading hundreds (if not thousands) of scripts… and a couple of Sarah's Xianxia novels.
This dismissal of Xue Qi felt too neat, too universally accepted. Frankly, it felt exactly like a classic narrative setup. The underestimated path holding hidden power. The unconventional protagonist defying established wisdom to unlock a unique, unforeseen advantage. Was there, perhaps, some secret synergy between Spirit Qi and Xue Qi, achievable only by those rare few who walked both paths – a potential missed or even deliberately obscured by the cultivator sects?
It was too perfect a plot hook, too compelling a narrative thread to simply ignore based on Jiang Li's inherited prejudices. My gut, the actor's instinct for story, screamed that exploring this was necessary. In the best case? I was indeed correct about the hidden synergies. And in the worst case? Maybe the System could turn my efforts into something unexpectedly useful!
And so, the plan formed: create a new persona, a pure Martial Artist this time, and test the System's ability to manifest an alternate power system – and some corresponding martial skills – in an environment where belief was raw, potent, easily manipulated, and… largely ignorant of cultivator norms.
Which now brought me here.
This transition wasn't just between districts of Qingshan Town; no, it felt like descending between entirely different layers of reality. Leaving behind the relative order and affluent tranquility of Willow Lane and the Administrative Palace districts, and even the bustling commerce of the upper market, felt like climbing down into the city's grimy, neglected underbelly.
The slums.
They were a chaotic, suffocating maze of narrow, unpaved alleys choked with refuse that emitted a stomach-churning stench. Ramshackle wooden dwellings, patched together with scrap materials, leaned precariously against each other as if for mutual support, their walls stained dark with grime, poverty, and generations of neglect. The air here was thick, heavy, difficult to breathe, saturated with the smells of unwashed bodies crammed into close quarters, cheap, harsh rice wine spilled in gutters, smoldering low-quality coal fires used for cooking and heating, animal waste from chickens and – perhaps -- pigs kept in tiny enclosures, and, overlying it all, the pervasive, cloying scent of utter desperation. Loud, drunken shouts and slurred arguments echoed between the close-packed buildings, punctuated by the sharp, angry cries of neglected children, the occasional desperate sobbing from behind a thin wall, and the intermittent sharp clang of metal from some hidden – and probably unlicensed – workshop.
It was here, deep within this labyrinthine squalor, guided by discreet inquiries made earlier by Jin Bao's less savory contacts, that I found my destination: an unmarked, heavy wooden door set incongruously in a crumbling brick wall, looking like it led nowhere important.
It was guarded, however, by two hulking men whose flat, dead eyes and crudely made, but clearly functional weapons – a rusty axe and a heavy spiked club – promised swift, brutal violence to any uninvited or unwelcome guests. A few copper coins, passed discreetly from my hand to theirs (coins I'd made sure to acquire specifically for this purpose, for the use of gold – or even silver – would draw far too much attention here), gained us entry without a word exchanged.
"Us," of course, being: myself, utterly transformed in appearance and demeanor, and two of my most reliable household guards, also dressed down in roughspun, inconspicuous clothes, their faces grim, looking profoundly uncomfortable but obeying my orders to follow at a distance and blend seamlessly into the crowd near the entrance once inside. I had left Ruolan back at the residence: her refined presence, and her Stage Six cultivation aura, however suppressed, would be much too conspicuous here.
Jin Bao, meanwhile, had already planted a few of his own agents within the crowd inside – degenerate gamblers, perpetually in debt and known for loud mouths, who were all too happy to say whatever we wanted in exchange for a couple silver taels. They stood ready to act as my shills, to help amplify the new belief I intended to cultivate.
Stepping through the heavy door and descending a short flight of damp stone steps felt like entering the bowels of the earth, or perhaps just the city's festering subconscious.
The new atmosphere hit me like a physical blow.
A subterranean space – perhaps an abandoned cellar beneath a collapsed warehouse, or an old storage foundation – stretched out before me, packed shoulder-to-shoulder with a rough, roaring, volatile crowd. The air was thick, almost unbreathable, choked with smoke from cheap, sputtering torches stuck haphazardly in crude iron sconces along the damp stone walls. These torches cast flickering, distorted shadows that danced wildly across sweating, grimy faces contorted with base emotions – raw excitement, naked greed, vicarious bloodlust. The overwhelming stench was a noxious cocktail of sweat, stale wine, cheap, harsh tobacco smoke, mildew, unwashed bodies, and something else, something sharp and metallic that caught in the back of my throat.
Blood.
In the center of the cavernous space, a makeshift ring, defined simply by thick, fraying ropes tied to four sturdy wooden posts hammered deep into the packed earth floor, was illuminated more brightly by several larger torches, casting the fighting area in a harsh, revealing glare. Within it, as we entered, two men circled each other warily, trading clumsy but undeniably brutal blows – bare-knuckled strikes, heavy kicks, grappling attempts. Their grunts of effort and pain were nearly drowned out by the deafening roar of the surrounding spectators, who waved crude betting slips scrawled on scraps of (what passed as) paper and handfuls of copper coins, screaming encouragement, insults, and betting odds at the fighters and the organizer.
This was one of the underground fighting pits of the lower Slums. My stage for tonight's experiment.
I pulled the hood of my heavy black cloak further down, ensuring my face remained completely obscured by the plain, dark wooden mask I wore beneath it – a mask carved with no features, just smooth, dark wood, adding to the anonymity. My attire was simple: durable black cloth, practical for movement, devoid of any marking, embroidery, or finery that might hint at wealth or status.
My posture was deliberately different from Jiang Li's usual refined, if arrogant, bearing – less expansive, more coiled stillness, shoulders slightly hunched, projecting an aura of quiet, contained menace, the posture of a predator waiting to strike.
I had suppressed my Stage Five Spirit Qi signature almost completely, a trick I'd practiced diligently over the past day, finding it surprisingly easy to do – perhaps it was another facet of the System's persona management capabilities. To any observer, especially these mortals utterly ignorant of Qi cultivation, I appeared as nothing more than a physically fit but energetically normal man, perhaps a wandering Martial Artist or hired blade.
The new persona: simply "Shadow."
The goal: convince this raw, volatile crowd, through performance and manipulation, that I was a powerful Martial Artist, and see if the System would respond by manifesting the corresponding Xue Qi cultivation and – hopefully – combat skills.
After watching a few more brutal, largely unskilled bouts end quickly – usually with one man unconscious or too injured to continue, dragged unceremoniously from the ring – I moved purposefully through the jostling, reeking crowd towards the edge of the ring. The burly, one-eyed man with faded, crude tattoos covering his thick arms, the one who acted as organizer, announcer, and chief bookie, spotted my approach, his single eye narrowing suspiciously at my masked and cloaked form.
"New fighter," I said, falling back upon acting habits to keep my voice low, rough, deliberately altering its pitch and cadence so as to mask any obvious similarities to Jiang Li's voice (not that these poor shmucks even had a snowball's chance in hell of ever meeting someone like Jiang Li, of course).
The one-eyed man looked me up and down slowly, his gaze lingering on my concealing mask and cloak with open cynicism. He'd seen plenty of "mysterious" newcomers try their luck here. Most didn't last long.
"Name?" he grunted, clearly unimpressed.
"Shadow," I replied curtly.
"Hmph. Yet another 'Shadow'," he sneered, spitting a glob of something unpleasant onto the dirt floor near my feet. "Seems half the fighters who don't want their faces known call themselves 'Shadow' or 'Ghost'. How… original."
He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Alright, then… 'Shadow'. There's a thirty copper entry fee. Standard rules: fight till forfeit or till one man can't stand. Winner takes eighty percent of any side bets placed on 'imself. Loser gets dragged out, maybe feet first."
"…Next fight's against Iron Ma – he's on a winning streak. You in or out?"
"In," I said simply, tossing the copper coins onto his makeshift table piled high with betting slips and small piles of copper.
He grunted again, pocketing the coins without counting them, then turned and bellowed over the constant din of the crowd.
"Alright, you dogs! Listen up! Next fight! We got a newcomer! Calls 'imself... SHADOW!" He spat the name out mockingly, drawing a few jeers from the crowd. "Facing our returning champion, the pride of the South Quarries, the man who eats rocks for breakfast. Give it up for… IRON MA! Place yer final bets now! Odds are long on the newcomer! Ten coppers on the 'Shadow' gets you half a silver if he pulls off a miracle! Who wants to lose their money? Who's feeling… lucky?"
A wave of derisive laughter and shouted bets favoring Iron Ma went through the crowd. The odds clearly reflected their opinion of mysterious newcomers versus known, reliable quantities of brute force like this "Iron Ma." As I ignored the jeers and stepped deliberately through the ropes into the crude ring, the packed earth floor feeling uneven beneath my boots, the System interface flashed urgently, unexpectedly, in my mind's eye, brighter and more insistent than usual.
[New Active Persona Detected: 'Shadow' (Martial Artist - Unverified)]
[Warning: Potential Belief Conflict with Primary Persona: 'Jiang Li' (Cultivator - Stage 5)]
[Switch Active Persona? [Y/N]
Um… yes?
My focus was entirely external – on the roaring crowd pressing against the ropes, on the opponent lumbering into the ring opposite me, on the goal of manifesting martial power as this new Shadow persona. I saw the prompt, registered the mention of 'conflict' but, in my focused state, dismissed it as merely reputations clashing or, perhaps, preventing simultaneous use of Spirit Qi while manifesting Xue Qi.
In retrospect, I should – perhaps – have put more thought into the decision.
I mentally confirmed my choice just as the one-eyed organizer slammed his meaty fist down hard onto one of the corner posts, the dull thud signaling the start of the bout.
The change was instantaneous, shocking, and utterly terrifying.
It wasn't the expected warm surge of Xue Qi flooding my limbs, not the influx of martial knowledge I had hoped for.
It was the exact opposite.
I rapidly experienced a chilling absence, a profound emptiness that felt like my very soul had been scooped out. The potent, familiar river of Stage Five Spirit Qi humming within my meridians, the energy I had relied upon for every action since my 'awakening', simply… vanished. Snuffed out instantly, completely, like a candle flame placed into a vacuum. The connection to the ambient Qi of the world, the subtle awareness of energy flows around me, snapped shut. The inhuman enhancements to my strength, speed, resilience, reaction time, even my senses – all of them were gone in a dizzying, nauseating rush, leaving behind only a profound, terrifying weakness, a feeling of being utterly exposed, utterly mortal.
I felt… weak. Weaker than normal, even, compared to the Qi-enhanced state I'd inhabited for days. I felt like Leo Maxwell again -- clumsy and fragile -- inhabiting Jiang Li's admittedly physically fit, but now energetically hollow body.
What the fuck just happened?!
Pure, undiluted panic surged through me, colder and sharper that even Silent Meridian Frost had been.
Did switching personas turn OFF my cultivation?! The warning! That damned warning! I didn't consider it carefully!
My internal crisis, my moment of existential terror realizing I had just willingly stripped myself of all power in a violent death pit, was brutally interrupted. "Iron Ma," my giant of an opponent, let out a guttural roar like a wounded bear and charged across the ring with surprising speed for his bulk. Clearly, mercifully, he wasn't a trained martial artist – his movements were crude, lacking technique – just a large, immensely muscular man, likely a quarry worker or dock laborer used to applying brute force, relying purely on intimidation and overwhelming strength.
Unfortunately, he was still built like a small ox. A small ox now charging towards me.
His face was contorted in a grimace of effort and malice, his massive fists clenched like stone hammers, aiming a wide, clumsy, but undeniably powerful haymaker directly at my masked face.
Against the Stage Five Qi Gathering Cultivator Jiang Li, this "charge" would have been laughably slow, easily deflected, avoided, or even halted outright with barely a flick of the wrist or a subtle Qi-enhanced sidestep.
Against Leo Maxwell in Jiang Li's suddenly Qi-less body? It was a terrifyingly fast freight train, carrying with it the weight of potential bone-breaking, skull-crushing impact.
Relying purely on Leo's untrained, panicked reflexes, Jiang Li's base physical fitness, and a healthy doze of adrenaline, I barely managed to stumble backwards, twisting awkwardly out of the path of the whistling fist. I felt the wind of its passage stir my cloak, felt the sheer kinetic force of it brush past my mask. I landed off-balance, my ankle twisting slightly, painfully, on the uneven dirt floor, sending a jolt up my leg.
The crowd roared – mostly with laughter and derision now.
"Go get 'im, Ma!"
"Is that all the 'Shadow' is? A shadow of a man stumbling around?"
"Waste of my coppers! Thought he looked tough!"
"Finish 'im quick, Ma! Don't play with yer food!"
Iron Ma roared again, angered by the miss and fueled by the crowd's bloodlust, and charged forward immediately, swinging wildly with both fists, aiming to simply overwhelm me with brute force. Panic threatened to paralyze me.
I couldn't fight him.
I couldn't win physically.
Not like this.
My mind raced. Then, the actor's desperate instinct for survival took over. If I couldn't win with strength, I had to win with performance. I needed the crowd to believe I was something more, something dangerous, something skilled holding back, using subtle techniques they couldn't perceive. My life literally depended on selling this act right now.
Forcing down the rising tide of terror, channeling it into focused intensity, I deliberately adopted a calm, mysterious stance I vaguely recalled from some old martial arts film I'd watched years ago – body low, centered, hands held loosely, almost casually before me, projecting an aura of relaxed confidence I absolutely did not feel. I focused entirely on evasion, pushing Leo's stage combat training to its absolute limit – using quick, unpredictable footwork, sidesteps, weaves, focusing purely on dodging Iron Ma's furious, clumsy onslaught, making him look even more oafish as I slipped just out of reach like smoke, letting his own momentum carry him stumbling past.
I didn't strike back – not that I even could. I just dodged and weaved with a singular, desperate focus, knowing that I would be done for if even one of those monstrous punches landed.
"Is that all?" I called out again, forcing my voice to remain low and resonant, hoping the mask muffled its slight tremble.
"Your crude strength is useless against true technique! You cannot even touch my Shadow!"
"Stand still and fight, you coward!" Iron Ma bellowed, red-faced and panting now, charging again, sweat flying from his brow as he swung wildly.
"You haven't even forced me to reveal my true form!" I retorted cryptically, executing another clumsy but ultimately successful dodge that left me perilously close to the ropes.
Once he blocked me in against a corner, it was all over for me.
Fortunately, my desperate performance, combined with the perfectly timed efforts of Jin Bao's strategically placed shills scattered throughout the crowd, began to work its magic. They started shouting over the general jeers, their voices loud and confident.
"See that footwork? Flawless!" one shill shouted near the ropes, pointing dramatically. "He's just toying with him! Like a master playing with a clumsy child!"
"Ya fools! That's the legendary Shadowless Step, it is! Iron Ma can't even touch him! He's too fast!" yelled another from across the ring, inventing a technique name on the spot.
"Wait for the finishing blow! He's building power! Accumulating Xue Qi for a devastating strike!" shouted a third, adding a veneer of martial arts jargon. "I saw this guy train down by the river last week – he shattered a massive boulder with just one palm strike! Iron Ma is doomed!"
This last, utterly ridiculous claim drew gasps and murmurs from those nearby who hadn't heard it before.
The crowd's mood began to shift uncertainly again. The initial mockery and jeering faltered, replaced by confused murmurs. The shills' confident shouts, combined with my mysterious evasiveness, my cryptic pronouncements, and Iron Ma's increasing frustration and clumsiness, planted seeds of doubt.
Maybe I was holding back?
Maybe I was an actual expert slumming it for amusement or practice?
The crowd – especially those who bet on me – desperately wanted to believe they were witnessing something special, not just another quick, brutal squash between two unknowns… And that collective belief, however irrational, however easily manipulated, began to coalesce, focusing on my masked form.
The System, ever responsive, immediately reacted to the shift.
[Mass Qualified Belief Detected (Pit Crowd, Shills). BQT Level 1]
[Analyzing Belief: 'Shadow' possesses hidden Martial Skill/Xue Qi]
[Threshold Met! Manifestation Initiated!]
[Belief Meter: +85]
As Iron Ma charged again, roaring in frustration, aiming a desperate, two-handed overhead smash, I felt it – a sudden, unfamiliar surge of different energy flooding my limbs. It wasn't the cool, flowing river of Spirit Qi; it was a warm, potent, almost explosive force originating from deep within my blood and muscles – Xue Qi!
Simultaneously, basic martial instincts surfaced in my mind, unbidden – how to block efficiently, how to shift my weight for a counter-strike, where to target for maximum effect using this raw physical power. It wasn't refined skill, more like primal combat knowledge, borne from countless hours of practice and experience, downloaded directly into my brain.
Behind my wooden mask, my lips split into a predatory smile.
I looked up as Iron Ma's heavy fists descended like twin sledgehammers. This time, I stood my ground. Empowered by the sudden surge of Xue Qi, I shot one hand upward, palm open.
Thwack!
My hand met his descending wrists with impossible force. The impact jarred my arm, but – incredibly – his powerful two-handed strike stopped dead, halted inches from my masked face by my single, seemingly frail hand.
A wave of stunned silence washed over the roaring crowd. Iron Ma himself froze for a split second, his beady eyes wide with utter disbelief above his grimace. How? How could this slender figure possess such impossible strength?
That moment of shock was all the opening my newly manifested martial instincts needed. Before Iron Ma could process the impossibility or react, my other hand, guided by a muscle memory I didn't possess moments ago, shot forward like a viper. It wasn't an elegant strike, more of a forceful, explosive shove powered by the raw Xue Qi, but it landed squarely upon his solar plexus, a vulnerable point highlighted in my mind.
Iron Ma let out a huge whoosh of expelled air, his eyes bulging in shock and pain, staggering back several steps, clutching his gut, his combat momentum completely broken. Before he could recover his balance or breath, I followed through instinctively with a clumsy -- but brutally effective -- leg sweep, hooking his ankle with surprising speed and sending the bigger man crashing down hard onto the packed earth floor with a heavy grunt that seemed to shake the ring, raising a cloud of dust.
He lay there, stunned, winded, gasping for air like a landed fish, unable to rise immediately.
The crowd erupted, utterly convinced now. They hadn't seen any flashy techniques, just impossible strength followed by sudden, brutal efficiency… But it was enough. They roared their approval for the mysterious 'Shadow', convinced they had just witnessed a reclusive master finally deciding to end the fight after 'toying' with his vastly inferior opponent.
Feeling the unfamiliar Xue Qi already fading rapidly – my manifested martial cultivation still wasn't particularly high, it seems – and knowing I couldn't sustain the performance or answer any probing questions, I gave a curt, mysterious nod to the stunned, one-eyed organizer, turned without a word, and quickly melted back into the shadows near the exit, leaving the ring before anyone could properly react or approach me, the cheers and confused shouts of the crowd echoing behind me.
Back in the relative safety of a cheap, dingy room Jin Bao had secured at a nearby inn, I finally allowed myself to catch my breath, leaning heavily against the grimy, peeling wall, my heart still pounding from the adrenaline and the terror. The unfamiliar warmth of Xue Qi still lingered faintly in my muscles, a strange counterpoint to the continued, terrifying absence of my Spirit Qi.
That had been far too close.
Focusing inward, ignoring the squalor of the room, I accessed the System interface mentally. The "Active Persona" status clearly showed 'Shadow'.
Relief washed over me as I saw the option to switch back to 'Jiang Li'.
With a surge of mental will, I selected it. Instantly, the cool, familiar river of Stage Five Spirit Qi surged back through my meridians, filling the emptiness, a profoundly welcome sensation like water returning to a parched man. The connection to the ambient Qi of the world snapped back open, and the numerous enhancements to my senses and physique returned.
I let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief. Lesson learned: read the damned System warnings carefully. Switching personas could apparently mean switching power sources entirely, at least by default. My reckless switch could have been a potentially fatal mistake.
But then, exploring the interface further, scrolling past the familiar Status and Belief Meter displays, my attention snagged on a function I hadn't noticed before, perhaps it was something newly unlocked by the successful creation and activation of a second "persona:"
"Persona Integration."
My curiosity piqued despite my lingering fear, I focused on it, and a description bloomed in my mind, cool and informative:
This function allows for the merging of attributes, skills, and reputation elements from a secondary persona into the primary persona. Integration is permanent. Attributes and skills may merge synergistically or conflict, depending on their compatibility and the nature of the physiology or power systems involved. Proceed with caution.
Integrate? Merge attributes and skills?
Permanently?
The possibilities exploded in my mind, chasing away the last vestiges of panic. If I was understanding this right… I could choose to keep the new Xue Qi foundation and the basic combat instincts manifested for 'Shadow', and add them permanently onto my primary Jiang Li persona, alongside my existing Spirit Qi cultivation!
This was perfect – exactly what I was hoping for!
My gut was insistent that integration was the right move here, it was the interesting move, the path the protagonist would take. The immediate benefits alone were negligible… but what of the future potential? What if there was a stage beyond Martial Grandmaster, achievable only through double cultivation? What if tempering the body with Xue Qi first created a stronger vessel for later Spirit Qi breakthroughs?
The script demanded I explore this option immediately.
"Integrate Persona 'Shadow' into Primary Persona 'Jiang Li'," I commanded mentally, making the choice based on actor's intuition over Jiang Li's memories and the established logic of this world.
The System responded instantly, the mental text cool and precise.
[Integration Initiated: Persona 'Shadow' (Martial Artist - Initiate Stage) into Primary Persona 'Jiang Li'.
[Warning: Potential minor conflict between Xue Qi and Spirit Qi pathways requiring additional harmonization during future cultivation.]
[Integration proceeding...]
I felt a brief, jarring jolt deep within my core, like two separate streams of energy – one cool and flowing, one warm and dense – colliding within me, swirling, seeking equilibrium. It wasn't painful, but distinctly strange, a fundamental alteration of my internal state. Then, after a moment, the sensation subsided, replaced by a subtle but profound shift. A new warmth settled deep within my blood and bones, a feeling of physical density, resilience, and raw, coiled potential coexisting alongside the familiar cool, flowing river of my Spirit Qi. The two energies felt distinct, yet somehow connected now, residing within the same vessel without immediate, overt conflict.
I felt... tougher.
More grounded.
More physically present.
And overlaid onto my cultivator's heightened awareness was a new layer of basic combat instinct – how to move, how to block efficiently, how to shift my weight for a powerful strike, how to read an opponent's physical cues – all bits of knowledge I absolutely hadn't possessed as Jiang Li.
[Integration Complete.]
[Primary Persona 'Jiang Li' updated. Xue Qi Foundation (Initiate Stage) established. Basic Combat Instincts acquired. Reputation elements subsumed – 'Shadow' persona deactivated, its reputation attributes ('Mysterious', 'Undefeated', 'Powerful Martial Artist') will now be associated with 'Jiang Li' in relevant belief circles.]
I flexed my hands slowly, feeling the dual energies settle within me.
Spirit Qi and Xue Qi. Cultivator and Martial Artist.
The implications were staggering, opening up entirely new avenues. The Active Persona sub-system wasn't just about temporary disguise or fleeting manifestations; it was about becoming. About acquiring attributes, skills, even entirely different power systems, through belief, and then potentially keeping them, integrating them permanently into my core being.
The risks seemed substantial, of course – the System's warning about potential Qi conflict was noted. Could integrating too many disparate personas lead to identity fragmentation? Dilution of power? Madness?
What about more… extreme transformations?
I briefly entertained the absurd, slightly terrifying thought: Could I even pretend to be a WOMAN? Convince someone I was? What would happen to me if I integrated THAT persona?
I shuddered involuntarily, pushing the thought away firmly. It was best not to dwell on such extreme, potentially body-altering possibilities for now. Integration offered incredible power, but separation offered safety and flexibility.
A dilemma for later, perhaps – when I had the luxury of time for additional experimentation and understood the System better.
For now, the integration of Shadow felt right.
But, how could I leverage it further? Publicly challenging established Martial Arts schools as Jiang Li, the known Stage Five Qi Cultivator, was quite impossible. No credible martial artist below the Grandmaster realm – a level that is non-existent in all of Qingshan – would accept such a challenge. They knew the inherent physical advantages Qi granted, even if I claimed to only use Xue Qi.
The performance wouldn't land; the necessary belief wouldn't manifest.
No, the path forward required continuing playing dress-up, but strategically layering the personas. I needed to continue building the legend of the 'Shadow,' establish this mysterious persona as an undeniable martial arts powerhouse in arenas where new challenges were accepted – likely more pit fights, perhaps escalating to challenges against wandering martial artists known to pass through Qingshan, then targeting minor, less reputable dojos known for accepting all comers before moving on to the bigger fish. I needed to build Shadow's reputation independently, make him a feared and respected name in the martial underworld of the region, a legend whispered about in awe.
And then… I would bring in Jiang Li into the mix for phase two.
+++
Three days later, my grand design was well underway, proceeding even better than anticipated. The rumors Jin Bao had seeded about the upcoming Myriad Treasures Pavilion auction were spreading like wildfire through Qingshan Town and likely beginning to reach nearby cities, amplified by my own earlier displays of wealth and the Pavilion's official invitation reaching prominent figures. Talk of mysterious middle-grade artifacts and Young Master Jiang Li's involvement filled the teahouses and merchant gatherings, generating precisely the buzz I wanted.
Simultaneously, under the cover of night and dressed as my 'Shadow' persona (though, mercifully, without switching off my primary cultivation base this time – I just needed the mysterious appearance), I had continued my experiments in controlled violence. Clad again in concealing black, masked and hooded, I had participated in several more underground fights, carefully selecting opponents far more skilled than Iron Ma, including experienced street fighters and low-level martial artists.
With my Qi Gathering, Stage Five cultivation now actively enhancing my physical attributes far beyond that of most mortal martial artists, the fights were, frankly, laughably easy. I didn't even need the System to manifest new Xue Qi stage increases anymore (though progress was most welcome nonetheless).
I focused entirely on performance – winning decisively, as theatrically as possible, always ending the fight with a single, impactful, seemingly pure martial blow, then vanishing back into the shadows before anyone could get a good look or ask probing questions.
The legend of the 'Shadow' exploded like dry flour in a bonfire – in the slums and among the city's martial artists and gambling dens. Whispers turned into shouts, then into awed legends. An undefeated, masked martial arts monster had appeared from nowhere, his techniques unseen, his power terrifyingly absolute, his movements like smoke.
Jin Bao, naturally, fanned those flames discreetly, ensuring the stories grew ever more outlandish with each retelling – Shadow could shatter stone boulders and bend steel bars with his bare hands, leap over tall buildings in a single bound, kill with a simple touch – building up the hype around this mysterious persona, making him a local legend in the underworld almost overnight.
Soon, I mused, soon it would be time for Phase Two.
Once 'Shadow' was sufficiently legendary, feared and respected in the entire local martial underworld, Jin Bao would begin weaving the connection, planting the next layer of rumors. The narrative was already prepared.
This mysterious 'Shadow'? Why, he wasn't just some random expert; he was, in fact, an elite 'death-guard' of the Jiang family, personally trained from childhood in the secret arts by none other than the Young Master Jiang Li himself!
More importantly, the rumors would whisper, Jiang Li himself was the real article, a secret Martial Arts Grandmaster of profound, unfathomable skill! His "exile" wasn't an exile at all! In fact, he had deliberately paused his Qi cultivation for two years in order to focus solely on tempering his body and achieving the pinnacle of Xue Qi cultivation, reaching the absolute peak – the Martial Grandmaster realm! His relatively 'low' Qi Gathering stage was merely a temporary state while he perfected his unparalleled physical foundation. Now that his body cultivation was finally complete, the eccentric young master was finally turning his full attention back to Spirit Qi cultivation and, fueled by his incredible foundation and unparallelled genius, was poised to soar directly to Foundation Establishment in record time!
To reinforce this narrative, I planned to soon start subtly displaying my enhanced physical prowess as Jiang Li in public – perhaps dropping a few moves in front of the new Martial Artist mercenaries – making the rumors of secret martial mastery believable. The goal was clear: combine the widespread rumors seeded by Jin Bao with tangible 'proof' witnessed by the public to generate strong, widespread belief, manifesting the 'Martial Arts Grandmaster' status – and its associated Xue Qi cultivation level – onto my primary Jiang Li persona via the System.
The plan was undoubtedly ambitious and complex… but it felt entirely achievable. In fact, at the rate I was advancing, it might only take a few more days to get there.
Lost in these satisfying thoughts, contemplating the intricate dance of belief and manifestation, I took a slow sip of fragrant, high-quality spirit tea – Cloud Mist Green, imported from the southern provinces. I was seated comfortably in a private booth at the elegant Jade Wind Teahouse, one of the establishments Jin Bao had discretely purchased in town – and one identified as a primary hub for influential gossip among both cultivators and wealthy merchants in Qingshan Town.
I was dressed impeccably again as Jiang Li, in fine blue silks, projecting quiet confidence, wealth, and enigmatic depth. Lin Ruolan sat discreetly, silently, across from me, still carrying the bagged Spirit Sword, her expression composed, though I could sense her ongoing internal struggle to reconcile the latest developments – including the ever-stronger surges of Xue Qi she could undoubtedly feel from me these days. Her loyalty felt solid now, but her confusion remained profound.
From nearby tables, occupied by well-dressed merchants and a few cultivators nursing expensive teas, snippets of conversation drifted to us over the soft background music of a guzheng.
"...heard the Myriad Treasures Pavilion auction in Fallen Star City is going to be unprecedented this year! My contacts confirm rumors of multiple middle-grade artifacts, not just the one..."
"...more than just rumors, I heard from my cousin who knows someone high up in the Pavilion management... they say something truly extraordinary surfaced, perhaps from those ruins they found near the Black Mire..."
"...and did you hear about Young Master Jiang Li? He's so rich, offering that thousand spirit stone bounty! They say he might even offer something from his own legendary collection at the upcoming auction! Can you imagine what treasures the main Jiang family has hidden away, if they can afford to shill out a thousand spirit stones for a mortal...?"
My lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. Jin Bao's first campaign, hyping the auction and my potential involvement, was exceeding my expectations in every way.
Then, from a table on the first floor, occupied by several rougher-looking men who nonetheless carried the faint Qi signatures of low-level cultivators or high-level martial artists – likely mercenaries or bodyguards enjoying their pay – a different set of whispers reached my ears, spoken in hushed, awed tones.
"...tell you, I saw 'im me'self last night at the Black Alley pit. This 'Shadow' character... so terrifying! Moved like smoke, hit like a thunderclap!"
"...undefeated, they say. Ten fights now. Took down Mad Dog Meng, who was peak Organ Reinforcement, with one palm strike. Didn't even look like he tried!"
"...no one knows where he came from. Masked, hooded, silent... some say he's not even human under there, maybe some kind of martial spirit awoken to seek vengeance on those who wronged him..."
"...my money's on 'im cleaning out every underground fighter, maybe even challenging the big Dojos before the month is out..."
I met Lin Ruolan's questioning, utterly confused (but now, I noted with internal satisfaction, entirely trusting) gaze across the rim of my teacup. She had clearly heard both sets of rumors herself – the whispers about the wealthy, enigmatic Young Master Jiang Li and the auction, and the separate, awed whispers about the terrifying, undefeated pit fighter known only as 'Shadow'. The two narratives were not obviously related, yet both, in their own way, were becoming the accepted reality of Qingshan Town – reflections of my ongoing, multi-layered performance.
I offered her only a small, enigmatic smile in return, taking another slow, deliberate sip of my tea… resisting the urge to cackle to myself.
Oh yesss... Everything is going according to keikaku.
My Grand Performance continued, layers upon layers, separate legends building simultaneously across the city – reality bending slowly, but inexorably, to my will. The auction was approaching. The investigation into Mei'er's death was underway, assisted by Alchemist Chen and the best investigators my effectively bottomless funds could afford.
And soon -- very soon indeed -- Jiang Li would not just be known for being wealthy and enigmatic. He would be demonstrably, undeniably…
Strong.