The Beginner Training Manual was, in Ren Fei's professional opinion, the ugliest book he'd ever seen.
Thin cover, plain, title scrawled in crooked gold characters: "Basic Cultivation For Hopeless Mortals."
Ren Fei squinted. "Hopeless mortals? Who writes a manual that insults its reader?"
The system chimed innocently.
[Manual: Basic Cultivation For Hopeless Mortals.
Grade: A+ Uses: Only Once
Reminder: You were once a hopeless mortal too.]
Ren Fei nearly hurled the book into the firepit. "you're lucky I can't strangle you."
Across from him, his disciple sat cross-legged, stick across her lap like a sword polished by dust and ash. She watched him as if he were about to reveal the heavens' deepest secrets—or a cheat code for cultivation.
Ren Fei sighed. "Alright, lesson two. Cultivation."
The girl leaned forward eagerly. "Yes, Master."
The word still felt strange, like ill-fitting robes. No escaping it now. He has truly become a Master.
He flipped the manual open. Inside were crude diagrams: a man sitting cross-legged, glowing dots along his spine, the instructions is so simple even a donkey could follow.
Ren Fei frowned. "Huh. This ight actually work."
The system beeped almost smugging.
[Beginner Training Manual: Success Rate 50%.
Warning: Potential side effects include dizziness, nosebleeds, spontaneous farting.]
Ren Fei's eye twitched. "…Spontaneous what?"
The girl tilted her head. "What's wrong, Master?"
"Nothing. Focus." He jabbed at the page. "First, calm your breath. Feel the energy in the air. Guide it into your dantian."
The girl closed her eyes obediently.
Silence. A breeze stirred ash into his nose. He sneezed once, waved a hand, and tried to look like it was all part of the lesson.
"Good. Imagine the energy flowing like a stream—"
The ground trembled.
Ren Fei's head snapped up. "Wait, what?"
The girl's body glowed faintly, a soft aura rippling around her like morning mist—or a faulty spell effect.
Ren Fei gawked. "You've got to be kidding me."
The system beeped smugly.
[Congratulations! Your disciple has entered the path of cultivation. Estimated Talent: Extraordinary.]
Ren Fei shot to his feet. "Extraordinary?! She's supposed to be hopeless! This was supposed to take weeks! Months!"
The system pulsed again.
[Correction: That only applies to hopeless mortals. You somehow picked up a prodigy.]
Ren Fei stared at her, dumbfounded. Breathing steady, aura stable. No struggle.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course. I choke on failure my whole life, she reads half a page of an insult-book and nearly shakes the mountain."
The girl opened her eyes slowly. "Master… I can feel it. Something warm. Like fire in my belly."
Ren Fei groaned. "Spiritual energy. Or indigestion. We'll see which."
By sunset, she had reached the first stage of body refinement. Aura faint but steady. She tested her strength—and snapped her practice stick in half.
Ren Fei buried his face in his hands. "Do you realize how long it took me to reach that stage? Years! And you—" He gestured wildly. "You do it in one afternoon!"
The system chimed.
[Correction: Two hours, thirty-six minutes.]
Ren Fei snarled. "I wasn't asking for the exact time!"
The girl beamed. "Master, does this mean I'm talented?"
Ren Fei glared. "…No. Means you're cursed. The heavens sent you to mock me."
She tilted her head innocently. "But you're the one teaching me."
Ren Fei froze. Mouth opened. Shut. No comeback.
The system beeped gleefully.
[Sect Master Ren Fei gains +1 humility.]
He growled. "If I break this manual over my knee, will you shut up?"
[Warning: That would reduce disciple progress by 100%.]
He sighed. "Fine. I'll live… for now."
The girl ignored him and the fact that he was talking to himself, picking up another stick, testing its weight like a true beginner. Her aura flickered faintly, light reflecting on the blackened stones and ash.
Ren Fei muttered, "Lesson two, continued: do not die. Try not to humiliate yourself. And make sure you survive."
She didn't look like she would die. Or humiliate herself. Yet she waited.
The manual lay open, pages trembling slightly. Ren Fei jabbed at the diagrams. "Follow the instructions! Imagine energy flowing through your body, guide it in the center and condense your energy… don't set your hair on fire."
She closed her eyes. Her aura steady. She breath calmly.
Ren Fei pinched his forehead. "And she's doing it. Actually doing it. This isn't supposed to happen!"
The system chimed.
[Observation: Disciple has surpassed expectations.]
Ren Fei groaned. "Of course. Tutorial? Warm-up? Maybe a little humiliation? No. Mini-cultivation prodigy. Great. Just great."
The girl opened her eyes. "Master… I can feel it. Something flowing. Like fire in my bones."
Ren Fei waved a hand. "Spiritual energy. Could be indigestion. Either way… try not to explode. "
By twilight, she had achieved body refinement. Aura steady. Flexed fingers. Snapped her stick again.
Ren Fei buried his face in his hands. "Years. YEARS! And you… in two hours and thirty-six minutes. Exactly!"
The system chimed.
[Reminder: Disciple training success rate 97%. Humility bonus applied.]
Ren Fei groaned. "I hate you. I hate all of you."
The girl tilted her head. "But… I did it because of your teaching, Master."
Ren Fei blinked. "…Oh, for heaven's sake."
That night, the ruined sect felt different. Courtyard, broken, pulsed faintly with life. She practiced quietly by torchlight. Aura flickered with each breath. Ren Fei sat alone on cracked steps, the manual loose in his lap.
For years, he'd dreamed of rebuilding Azure Sky Sect. Dreams were all he had. He was way too weak. Too useless. Too late to do it.
Now—because of a mysterious, infuriating system, and one stubborn girl—his dream no longer felt impossible.
He whispered, "Azure Sky Sect… maybe you're not gone yet."
The system pulsed softly, almost gentle.
[Quest In Progress: Rebuild the Main Hall.
Optional Objective: Do it without crying this time.]
Ren Fei groaned, dragging hands down his face. "I hate you."
But for the first time in years, he smiled.
He glanced at her. Flickering aura, snapped sticks, stubborn determination. Absurd. Yet hope. Tiny, ridiculous, sarcastic hope.
He whispered to himself again, firmer. "Alright… let's see if we can survive another day."