For the Sichuan Tang Clan, a sect that wields poisons and hidden weapons, keeping distance from enemies is paramount. This necessity has honed their qinggong and footwork into techniques renowned as unmatched in the martial world.
"Little Dragon Steps…"
Little Dragon Steps was the top technique in the Sichuan Tang Clan's Martial Arts - Footwork category. Below it were flashier-sounding footwork skills, but they remained locked.
To unlock advanced footwork, I had to master the basics first.
[You have acquired Little Dragon Steps.]
With no other option, I started with Little Dragon Steps. The moment the acquisition message appeared, the footwork's movements etched themselves into my mind, just as Ten Thousand Poison Magnetic Spirit had.
"This is handy."
The system was brilliantly intuitive, instantly applying martial arts knowledge.
[Little Dragon Steps: 1st Star 0%]
I followed the ingrained steps across the training ground. Though it was my first attempt, my feet moved as if I'd practiced them before.
"Whoa!"
My feet twisted at unnatural angles, yet there was no pain—only a refreshing sensation.
[Little Dragon Steps' mastery has increased.]
One practice session boosted mastery by 3%. At this rate, 34 repetitions would get me to the 2nd Star.
I could probably reach the 3rd Star by day's end.
[Little Dragon Steps' mastery has increased.]
Eager to raise mastery, I tried again, but this time it only went up by 0.1%.
"What?"
I thought I'd misread it. A 0.1% increase was 30 times less than the initial 3%.
[Little Dragon Steps' mastery has increased.]
This time, it jumped by 4%. Now I understood why the gains varied.
The first attempt was calm and precise. The second, I rushed sloppily. The third, I moved deliberately, as if showing off to someone.
The difference came down to effort and focus. Proper posture, precise inner energy flow, and unhurried movements all drove mastery gains. Rushing, like my second try, slowed progress.
"Half-hearted training is worse than none."
I liked that. Determined to master Little Dragon Steps properly, I set my sights on the 3rd Star today.
Ignoring Arin's puzzled stare from afar, I threw myself into practice with full commitment.
"Huff, huff."
Yesterday, I swore not to drain my inner energy, but I nearly broke that vow in a day. I didn't exhaust it completely, but I used a hefty amount.
Like grinding experience in a game, the thrill of rising mastery made me lose track of time and energy control, focusing solely on footwork.
Little Dragon Steps had surpassed halfway to the 2nd Star. I didn't hit the 3rd Star as hoped, but it was solid progress.
My movements were worlds apart from the start. Now, I could flow through Little Dragon Steps like water.
If the 1st Star was robotic, I was now moving like a loose puppet—still stiff but far smoother.
I'd made incredible strides in a single day.
"Young master, it's too late. Let's head back."
"Alright."
The sky showed no moon, just pitch-black night. Arin must have lit a torch at sunset to keep me comfortable.
She was like an ace junior soldier, handling everything for her senior.
"Thanks."
"Huh?"
"For the torch."
"It's my duty."
Arin answered, then suddenly walked ahead.
"What were you doing today?"
"Learning how to walk."
"Walk?"
"Yup."
My novel didn't include footwork techniques, so Arin probably thought I was fooling around.
"Um…"
She hesitated, as if wanting to say something.
"What? Speak up."
"You looked like a drunk staggering after a midday binge."
"Ouch…"
Fair point. At the 1st Star, Little Dragon Steps was slower than walking. But now, past halfway to the 2nd Star, it was faster than normal steps.
"Let's hurry. I'm starving."
"Understood."
It hit me that I could use footwork while moving.
Using Little Dragon Steps, I followed Arin. As expected, it was quicker than walking, letting me keep pace effortlessly.
"Young master?"
"Yeah?"
"Honestly…"
"What?"
"It's kind of embarrassing."
"Ugh!"
Oof, that hurt. A dagger to the heart.
A beauty calling me embarrassing was a blow beyond imagination.
But I pressed on, stubbornly using Little Dragon Steps to follow her.
"Hm?"
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Of all the things I'd faced here, I never thought I'd be disappointed by unpoisoned food.
Unlike before, the Chirein Soup Arin brought for dinner had no poison—just plain, bland soup.
I wolfed it down and handed the empty bowl to Arin.
"You ate fast tonight."
"It was tasty."
I used to eat slowly to savor the mastery gain messages from the poison.
"Young master, you must sleep tonight."
"I will."
Even without Arin's nudge, I planned to sleep properly. Martial arts novels say dawn is prime for inner energy training, so I'd wake early for that.
"I'll be going, then."
"Yeah, rest well."
Lying in bed, I reviewed Little Dragon Steps.
"Finally hit the 3rd Star."
The fourth training ground was far from the mansion. By the time my inner energy was nearly spent, we reached the mansion, and Little Dragon Steps hit the 3rd Star. Hitting my goal felt satisfying.
"When's he showing up?"
Waiting for Peru, I couldn't practice my inner energy technique. Martial arts novels warn of qi deviation if disturbed during training.
It might not apply here, but I couldn't take the chance. Exhausted, I stared at the door, unable to sleep or train.
Knock, knock.
My heart raced at the sound, like awaiting a long-lost love.
"Come in."
But it wasn't Peru.
"You're still awake, as expected."
"Yeah, about to sleep."
It was Arin, out of her butler uniform, hair damp from washing.
"I brought herbal tea. The scent aids sleep, so drink it and rest."
"Thanks, Arin. Really."
"I'll go now."
After she left, I eyed the steaming teacup.
"High affection is nice."
Bringing tea because I looked tired? Unthinkable before. She'd have just glared.
"She's changed a lot."
Knock, knock.
Soon after Arin left, another knock came.
"Come in."
"I greet the young master."
This time, it was the one I'd waited for—the blue-haired, dazed poison master, Peru. He knelt immediately.
"Sleep well last night?"
"Not a wink."
"Figured."
I sat on the bed, legs crossed, projecting confidence. Atmosphere was key—I had to appear arrogant and enigmatic.
"Why no poison in tonight's soup?"
"I was off duty and didn't go to the kitchen. You said to bring all my poisons, so I figured now was fine."
"I see."
I held out my right hand. Peru pulled a small pouch from his pocket.
That's it?
The palm-sized pouch disappointed me, but there was more. From it, he drew a pouch the size of a human head.
It was a magical storage pouch, a fantasy novel staple.
Peru took out four wrapped bundles.
A magical pouch was pricey—not something an ordinary guy would have.
"These are my poisons."
"Not much."
"S-Sorry."
I was stunned inside but kept a calm, haughty expression, tilting my chin for effect.
"Eek!"
Peru curled up, trembling under my gaze.
"Any issues after eating the Chodok yesterday?"
"My head was foggy all day, and I kept sweating coldly."
"Don't worry, that's the Chodok working. You're fine for a month. After that, you're done."
"Ahh…"
As if. Chodok was nonsense—just rolled-up leaves. His foggy head was from sleeplessness, and the cold sweat was fear of dying in a month.
Was I always this good at lying? It flowed so easily.
"Don't forget to come for the antidote in a month."
"Understood!"
I nodded, keeping the arrogant vibe.
"Let's pick up from yesterday."
Peru swallowed hard, bracing for my question.
"Who ordered you to put poison in my food?"