The ripples from Old Zhang's fall into Lake Obsidian spread far wider than the churning water that had nearly claimed his life. The disgraced laborer was gone, his dismissal a stark reminder of the unforgiving nature of the sect. A new, palpable tension settled over the menial workers of the Aquatic Pens. The fear of the Iron-Skinned Piranhas was now a living thing, a monster lurking just beneath the dark surface of the westernmost lake.
For Li Yu, the aftermath brought a different kind of danger. He had earned a low-grade spirit stone and a moment of praise from Brother Chen, but he had also earned something far less desirable: scrutiny. Specifically, the quiet, contemplative gaze of Uncle Wei.
The old man never said a word, but Li Yu felt the weight of his eyes on him constantly. When he was chopping Spirit Grass, he would catch Uncle Wei watching from the doorway of the storage shed, his expression unreadable. When he was hauling buckets of bait, he would see the old caretaker pausing in his own work, his gaze fixed on Li Yu's small but steady frame. The old man's eyes were no longer filled with the simple grumpiness of a tired overseer. They now held a flicker of deep, searching curiosity, a glimmer of suspicion that chilled Li Yu to the bone.
Li Yu understood immediately. The adrenaline of the moment could explain his quick thinking, but it couldn't fully explain the strength. An ordinary, underfed eleven-year-old boy should not have been able to lift, let alone hurl, a bucket that weighed nearly a hundred pounds. It was a flaw in his performance, a crack in the mask of mediocrity he had so carefully constructed.
A cold sweat trickled down his back. He had been careless, blinded by the urgency of the situation. Now, he had to repair the damage.
From that day on, Li Yu's performance at work changed. The quiet efficiency was replaced by a calculated clumsiness. When he lifted the heavy buckets, he would make sure to grunt and strain, his face contorted with effort. He would stumble occasionally on the slick walkways, catching himself at the last moment with a theatrical gasp. He made his chopping motions less precise, sometimes complaining under his breath about how heavy the chopper was, all within earshot of Uncle Wei. He was playing the part of a normal boy, a boy who had gotten lucky once due to a surge of desperate fear.
It was a delicate balance. He had to appear weak enough to be unremarkable, but still competent enough to keep his position and avoid drawing a different kind of negative attention. Uncle Wei's observations became less frequent, but Li Yu knew the suspicion hadn't vanished. It had merely submerged, waiting for another ripple on the surface.
This newfound need for caution did not slow his cultivation; it only made him more meticulous. His nights were his sanctuary. Hidden in the reeds near Lake Obsidian, he would sink into a deep meditative state, the world of physical labor fading away to be replaced by a universe of spiritual energy. The potent, ferocious Qi of the Iron-Skinned Piranhas was a powerful tonic. Guided by the «Myriad Rivers Returning to the Sea Art», he absorbed it relentlessly, his cultivation base growing deeper and more solid with each passing night.
The breakthrough to the Fifth Stage of Body Tempering had brought about significant changes. The «Abyssal Leviathan Physique» had moved past tempering his skin and bones and was now focused on his internal organs. He could feel his heart beating with a slow, powerful rhythm, each pump sending a surge of vital, Qi-infused blood through his body. His lungs had a greater capacity, and his digestive system could extract more energy from the meager food he was given. He was becoming a fortress from the inside out.
His spirit, the blood-red Koi, continued its slow evolution. The inch of growth was now more pronounced, and its scales had a hard, gem-like quality to them. He felt that his connection to it was deepening. It was no longer just a tool for absorption but an extension of his own consciousness.
As his cultivation deepened, so did his understanding of the aquatic beasts around him. He began to spend his free moments not just cultivating, but observing. He would watch the way the outer disciples of the Beast Taming Hall managed the stocks. They used special whistles to call certain fish, and medicated baits to treat common illnesses. They were knowledgeable, but their methods were external, treating the beasts like livestock.
Li Yu's method was internal. He could feel what the beasts needed. He started applying his knowledge in subtle ways. He noticed a school of Jade-Gilled Perch were lethargic because of a mineral deficiency. The next day, he made sure to dredge up mud from a part of the lake rich in that specific mineral and subtly mixed it into their feeding area. Within days, the perch were vibrant and healthy again. No one noticed his intervention; they only saw that the fish were thriving. He was becoming an invisible caretaker, the secret god of the Aquatic Pens.
Three months after the piranha incident, a new crisis emerged, one far more subtle and perplexing. It concerned the Azure-Finned Eels, a particularly valuable species of Level Two demonic beast kept in a separate, well-guarded pond. Their flesh contained a unique essence that could help cultivators in the Qi Condensation Realm stabilize their foundations. They were a source of significant income for the outer sect, and Brother Chen's primary responsibility.
And they were getting sick.
A strange, sapphire-blue fungus began to appear on their scales. They grew listless, refusing to eat even the most high-quality blood bait. Their value was plummeting, and the pressure on Brother Chen was immense. Disciples from the Beast Taming Hall were summoned, along with an alchemist who specialized in demonic beast illnesses. They tested the water, examined the eels, and tried a dozen different medicated foods, all to no avail. The fungus continued to spread.
Li Yu felt the eels' distress keenly. It was a feeling of constant, low-grade irritation, a wrongness in their very being. He extended his senses towards them, not to absorb their energy, but to diagnose their ailment. The problem wasn't a fungus, and it wasn't a disease in the water. The blue sheen on their scales was a physical manifestation of their own spiritual energy turning against them. The root cause was their food.
He focused on the high-grade bait they were being fed. It was a special mix, and he could sense a new ingredient, a fine, shimmering powder that was supposed to accelerate their growth. To most beasts, this mineral powder was a wonderful supplement. But Li Yu could feel the subtle, sharp energy signature of the mineral clashing violently with the gentle, fluid nature of the eels' own Qi. It was like feeding a fire with ice. It was slowly poisoning them from the inside out.
The answer was so simple, yet no one else could see it. But how could he, a menial laborer, reveal such a thing? It was impossible. He needed to plant the seed of the idea in someone else's mind.
His eyes fell on Uncle Wei. The old man, despite his suspicions, had been fair to him. And more importantly, he was desperate. Brother Chen's rage over the failing eel stock was directed at everyone, and Uncle Wei was bearing the brunt of it.
Li Yu formulated a plan. The next day, he made sure he was sweeping the walkway near where Uncle Wei was mending a net. Two disciples from the Beast Taming Hall walked past, their voices heavy with frustration.
"It makes no sense," one said. "The water is pure, and there are no signs of infection. It's as if they are rejecting their own energy."
"Elder Feng will have our heads if we lose this batch," the other lamented. "That new growth supplement was supposed to be a miracle ingredient."
They walked on, oblivious to the small boy who had been listening intently. Li Yu waited a few moments, then began to talk to himself, his voice a soft, childish mumble, just loud enough for Uncle Wei to hear.
"Shiny rocks… Father always said you can't give shiny rocks to the river eels," he muttered, as if lost in a memory. "He said it makes their skin go all blue and sad. Said it hurts their bellies. He always checked the salt for shiny bits… always said it was poison for eels, but fine for the carp…"
He kept sweeping, not looking up, as if he were completely unaware he was being listened to.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Uncle Wei freeze. The old man's hands, which had been deftly weaving the net, went still. He slowly turned his head, his gaze boring into Li Yu's back. The boy continued to sweep, his heart pounding.
For a long minute, there was only the sound of the broom scraping against the wood. Then, without a word, Uncle Wei dropped the net and walked briskly towards the bait storage shed.
Li Yu didn't dare to follow. He finished his sweeping and went about his other chores, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. Had it worked? Or had he only deepened the old man's suspicion?
Two hours later, a commotion erupted from the direction of the eel pond. Brother Chen's voice, usually sharp with anger, was raised in surprise. Li Yu crept closer and saw Uncle Wei standing before the haughty disciple, holding a handful of the shimmering mineral supplement. The old man was speaking in a low, urgent tone.
The next day, the eels were given a different diet, one free of the "growth supplement." Within three days, the blue fungus began to recede. Within a week, they were eating again, their movements becoming sleek and powerful once more.
The crisis was over. Brother Chen was ecstatic, and the disciples from the Beast Taming Hall were both relieved and deeply embarrassed. The official story was that Uncle Wei, through his years of experience, had a "gut feeling" about the new supplement and suggested removing it. The old man received a handsome reward of ten spirit stones and a rare public commendation from Brother Chen.
That evening, as Li Yu sat in his hut, the wooden door creaked open. Uncle Wei stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the twilight. He stepped inside and placed something on the small table. It was a cloth pouch.
"You're a strange brat," the old man said, his voice a low rumble. He looked at Li Yu, his eyes filled with a complex mixture of awe, fear, and something else… a fierce, almost paternal protectiveness. "Whatever your secrets are, you keep them buried deep. The world is not a kind place for strange brats."
He turned and left, leaving the pouch on the table. Li Yu opened it. Inside were five low-grade spirit stones. Half of the old man's reward.
Li Yu looked at the spirit stones, then at the empty doorway. He had not only survived another crisis, but he had also gained an unlikely, unwitting guardian. Uncle Wei no longer suspected him of being a threat. He suspected him of being a miracle. And he would protect that miracle.
Clutching the spirit stones, Li Yu felt the barrier to the Sixth Stage of the Body Tempering Realm tremble within him. His path was fraught with danger, but for the first time, he felt he was not entirely alone.