Morning in Golden Reed City was never quiet. The streets woke early, alive with the sound of merchants arguing and cultivators practicing in courtyards. But for Li Fan, the noise was only a distant hum. He sat by the edge of a canal, staring at his reflection in the muddy water.
The boy in the reflection looked like a ghost — thin, bruised, eyes sunken and lifeless. His hair was tangled, his clothes torn. A faint crust of dried blood marked the corner of his mouth. He looked like someone who had already died and hadn't realized it yet.
He tried smiling. The reflection didn't bother to smile back.
He dipped his hand into the water, washing the dirt from his fingers. The chill bit at his skin. When he withdrew his hand, it trembled uncontrollably. He could feel his stomach tightening again. The single bowl of stolen porridge had done little to quiet the hunger. It had been hours since then, and every passing breath only deepened the ache.
He had survived the night, somehow. That alone should have been enough to give him hope. But what good was survival when every step still hurt and every thought led back to the same question: why him?
The world moved on without mercy. The sun climbed higher, painting gold over the roofs. People walked past him — cultivators discussing spirit techniques, vendors setting out baskets of steamed buns, children running with laughter that sounded painfully bright. He sat there, silent, invisible among the living.
Then the voice returned.
[You have lost: dignity. +1 Poverty Point.]
Li Fan froze. "Not you again," he muttered. He looked around instinctively, though he knew no one else could hear it.
The voice echoed inside his skull, as calm and precise as before. [System Notice: Poverty Point accumulation has begun.]
He rubbed his temples. "You're rewarding me for losing dignity now?"
[Correct. Dignity is a luxury incompatible with the Dao of Lack.]
He laughed softly. "So I'm supposed to get stronger by being humiliated?"
[Affirmative. Strength through loss. Power through deprivation. This is the Law of the Pauper.]
He exhaled, leaning back against the wall. "You know, most people get spirit stones or treasures when they start cultivating. I get mockery and a headache."
[Clarification: Host has not yet begun cultivation. Current progress: 0%. Recommendation: Continue losing worldly attachments to awaken latent potential.]
"Wonderful," he said dryly. "Should I start giving away my shoes next?"
[Optional. Loss increases resonance.]
He sighed. Talking to the system was like arguing with a boulder. It never changed tone, never hesitated, never cared. It simply existed — a voice of cosmic indifference that somehow found amusement in his misery.
Still, the curiosity gnawed at him. "Poverty Points, huh?" he muttered. "And what do those do?"
[Accumulated Poverty Points strengthen Host's affinity with the Qi of Poverty. Higher affinity increases survival probability.]
"Qi of Poverty," Li Fan repeated. "That sounds ridiculous."
[Concept not recognized as ridiculous. It is a legitimate spiritual attribute within the Heavenly Pauper System.]
He stared at the canal water again, silent for a long moment. Maybe it was madness. Maybe starvation was making him hallucinate. But something about the voice felt real — too coherent, too sharp. It didn't feel like the ramblings of a dying mind.
He stood, brushing dust off his knees. "Fine. If you want poverty, you'll get poverty. Let's see how far this joke goes."
The system hummed faintly, as though acknowledging his defiance.
[Mission generated: Stay hungry for twelve hours. Reward: Unknown. Failure: Null.]
He blinked. "Stay hungry? That's your mission?"
[Affirmative.]
He rubbed his forehead. "You're telling me not to eat."
[Correct. Hunger refines endurance. The Dao of Lack thrives through emptiness.]
He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Perfect. I was planning not to eat anyway."
He walked through the streets, trying to distract himself. The scent of food clung to every corner — fried dumplings, roasted duck, even sweet rice cakes. It was torture. His stomach growled so loudly that a passing child giggled and pointed. Li Fan managed a weak smile before turning down another alley, away from the smell.
Hours passed. The sun rose higher, then began to sink again. Sweat soaked his shirt, but his body trembled with cold. Hunger gnawed at his insides like a beast. Every few steps, his vision flickered. He found an abandoned crate near the wall of a tea house and sat down.
[Time elapsed: eight hours. Hunger status: critical.]
His lips were cracked. His hands shook uncontrollably. He bit down on his knuckles to stay awake. The sound of boiling broth drifted from inside the tea house — soft, mocking, heavenly. He closed his eyes and tried not to breathe too deeply.
"This is stupid," he whispered. "You're going to kill me."
[Clarification: Death invalidates mission. Host advised to maintain consciousness.]
"Then give me something to hold on to," he said through clenched teeth. "Anything."
[Motivation unlocked: Survival through stubbornness.]
A faint warmth pulsed in his chest, as if his body responded to the declaration. His heart began to pound harder, forcing blood through weak veins. He felt dizzy, but the dizziness came with heat — a strange, growing warmth that burned faintly beneath his skin.
"What's… happening?" he murmured.
[Observation: Host's body is adapting. Hunger has triggered potential resonance.]
His vision blurred. The world tilted. He could feel something beneath his ribs — not pain this time, but pressure. A tight coil of energy, subtle yet undeniable, began to stir within him. It wasn't the golden radiance cultivators displayed. It wasn't the clean, ethereal glow of spiritual Qi. It was dim, gray, heavy — like the air before a storm.
The system's tone remained flat. [Resonance detected. Qi type identified: Proto-form of Poverty Energy.]
He tried to stand, but his knees gave out. He slumped forward, panting. The air around him shimmered faintly. A dull aura flickered at his fingertips — gray, almost invisible, like smoke rising from ashes.
He stared, disbelieving. "What is this?"
[Qi manifestation achieved. Classification: Qi of Poverty, Minor Grade. Host's body now capable of absorbing despair, hunger, and loss as cultivation fuel.]
Li Fan blinked slowly. His exhaustion was replaced by a strange, giddy amusement. "You're telling me I just cultivated by starving?"
[Correct. Mission progress: 95%. Continue state of deprivation to complete awakening.]
The absurdity hit him like a slap. All around him, cultivators trained with rare elixirs and spirit pills, absorbing pure Qi from mountains and celestial springs. And he—he gained power by suffering.
He started laughing, the sound cracked but genuine. The few pedestrians who noticed him gave him a wide berth, muttering about lunatics. He didn't care. He was too busy trying to understand the feeling that now pulsed through his body.
The warmth spread slowly, filling his limbs with faint strength. The hunger was still there, but it had changed — no longer just emptiness, but energy, like fire burning quietly in the dark.
[Ding. Mission complete. Reward issued.]
He looked up, half-expecting another cruel line.
[Reward: Minor Strength Boost. New Stat Unlocked: Qi of Poverty.]
He stared at his hands. The faint gray light shimmered again before fading. His body no longer felt like it was falling apart. The trembling had stopped. Even the cold had retreated a little.
He flexed his fingers, feeling power where there had been nothing. Not much, but real. Enough to prove it wasn't a dream.
"So… I really get stronger the hungrier I get?" he murmured.
[Correct. Power correlates with intensity of deprivation. The greater the lack, the deeper the resonance.]
He couldn't help it — he laughed again. A quiet, incredulous laugh that echoed through the narrow street. "Heaven, you're insane. You gave everyone else light and Qi and glory, and you gave me starvation."
[Correction: The Heavenly Pauper System does not serve Heaven. It serves balance.]
He raised an eyebrow. "Balance?"
[When the world grows bloated with abundance, only the empty can see truth.]
Li Fan blinked. The words carried a faint echo, almost ancient — as if, for a moment, the voice wasn't purely mechanical anymore. But before he could ask, it fell silent again.
He sat there for a long time, breathing slowly. The last light of sunset spilled down the alley, painting the walls in gold. He lifted his hand, watching how the gray aura flickered faintly against the light. It was weak, yes — but it was real.
For the first time, he felt something other than despair.
Hunger still twisted in his stomach, but now it felt like a friend — a strange, loyal companion whispering that he could endure more. That every ache, every humiliation, every scrap of pain had meaning.
He rose to his feet. The dizziness returned briefly, then steadied. His steps were light, almost balanced. The fatigue that once dragged him down now seemed to fuel him.
He walked along the canal again, this time not to stare at his reflection but to test the new strength in his limbs. He threw a small stone into the water. The splash reached farther than it should have.
A grin crept across his face. "So it's real."
The system remained silent, letting him savor the moment. He stood there, watching the ripples fade, and then said softly, "Alright, System. Let's make a deal. You keep me alive, and I'll play your little game. Let's see how far this Dao of Lack can go."
No answer came. Only the faint pulse of that gray energy beneath his skin, responding to his resolve.
The moon began to rise above Golden Reed City, pale and watchful. The streets quieted, the air cooling into a gentle breeze. Somewhere far away, a temple bell rang, and the sound seemed to echo through his chest.
He looked down at his hand again. The faint aura flickered once more, like smoke in moonlight. He clenched his fist and smiled.
"So," he murmured under his breath, the words soft but bright with defiance, "I get stronger because I'm hungry."
And for the first time in his life, Li Fan didn't feel cursed.
He felt chosen.