The Library of Echoing Wisdom stood silent beneath the waning sun, its jade-tiled roof glinting like the scales of an ancient dragon sleeping upon a mountain of knowledge. A tranquil wind stirred the prayer chimes along its eaves, their crystalline notes ringing softly, as if whispering secrets from eras long past. The faint murmur of disciples discussing cultivation theories and the rustle of parchment and jade slips merged into a quiet symphony — a music of learning and ambition that only the devoted could hear.
At the entrance, Elder Wu Jian stood in solemn grace — the unwavering guardian of this sacred repository.
He was a man in his middle years, yet his bearing carried the vitality of a tempered blade. His robe, white as untouched snow, was lined with silver thread that shimmered faintly, betraying the steady circulation of profound Qi beneath his skin. His hair, tied neatly by a simple jade clasp, flowed down his back, every strand obedient to the rhythm of his sword intent. Even still, the air seemed to bend slightly around him, edges crisp, each breath sharp.
Li Shen slowed his pace, instinctively bowing deeply. "Disciple Li Shen greets Elder Wu Jian."
The elder's gaze descended — eyes calm, deep, and unyielding like steel reflecting moonlight.
"Li Shen," he said, his voice smooth but heavy with unseen weight, "you are the new one from the Ironwood labor camp, yes?"
"Yes, Elder."
Wu Jian gave a faint nod, the corner of his robe fluttering slightly with the movement. "Good. Diligence roots deeper than talent. Remember this — the path of cultivation spares no one who hesitates."
His words were not merely advice; they carried the quiet resonance of experience.
Li Shen bowed once more, feeling the pressure in his chest tighten. He had heard stories from the body's former owner — of Elder Wu Jian's unmatched sword art, One Sword, Ten Worlds. They said that in one breath, his sword could manifest ten realities, each cut a world born and destroyed by his will. Even the Grand Elders spoke his name with rare reverence. Just what realm is he in? Li Shen wondered, though he knew better than to ask such a question.
Elder Wu Jian stepped aside. "Go. The echoes of the library will guide your intent. Do not choose lightly — the technique you select will shape the rhythm of your path."
"Yes, Elder."
As Li Shen entered, a gentle wave of spiritual energy washed over him. The air inside was different — heavier, alive, saturated with the scent of ink, ancient paper, and faint sandalwood. Rows of jade slips glimmered under hanging spirit lanterns that swayed in invisible Qi currents. The stillness carried the weight of countless cultivators who had once stood where he did, each seeking the method that would decide their destiny.
He walked past towering shelves etched with golden calligraphy. Disciples in white robes with green hems whispered softly, their faces illuminated by the light of the lanterns. A sense of belonging — rare and fragile — flickered in Li Shen's heart. For the first time since arriving in the sect, he felt not like a laborer, but a cultivator walking toward his future.
He stopped before the Outer Disciple Section.
After meticulously searching, Li Shen picked his top two techniques:
Cutter's Vital Rhythm — Qi drawn during rhythmic strikes, increasing stamina and boosting vitality recovery. Iron Skin Training — Hardens outer flesh through repetitive strikes, a basic body reinforcement technique.
Li Shen's eyes lingered on each slip. His mind replayed the System's words — cold, mechanical, yet oddly reassuring:
"Suggested corrective measure: Increase rest period and nutrient intake."
His thoughts turned inward. Since my main task is to chop Ironwood trees, I can use Cutter's Vital Rhythm to enhance my stamina and recover vitality more efficiently. He exhaled softly, recalling the ache that always lingered in his arms and shoulders after a long day of labor. Every swing drains my strength faster than I can recover. This rhythm-based technique… perhaps I can fuse it with the cadence of my chopping.
He glanced at the Iron Skin Training jade slip again. It would make my body tougher, yes, but what use is a body like iron if it cannot heal fast enough? Each day, I wake with soreness that dulls my movements. Even if I harden my skin, the fatigue will accumulate…
A faint smile tugged at his lips as understanding settled in. No. Cutter's Vital Rhythm suits me more. My cultivation must flow with endurance, not brute resistance.
Just as his fingers brushed against the chosen jade slip, Elder Wu Jian's calm yet firm voice echoed faintly from behind the rows of scrolls:
"Remember, Li Shen — the techniques within this hall are the heritage of generations. It is extremely forbidden to share them. Should you do so, you will face not only sect punishment but the wrath of your own heart — inner demons that never rest."
Li Shen straightened, clasping his hands and bowing toward the entrance. "Disciple understands, Elder."
The moment he lifted the jade slip, a pulse of light coursed through it, binding the technique to his soul imprint. For an instant, Li Shen felt the faint rhythm of a beating heart — not his, but the echo of countless cultivators who had once grasped this same art.
As he turned to leave, the setting sun poured through the library's latticed windows, painting his silhouette in shades of amber and gold. Dust motes drifted lazily in the air, each one illuminated like a spark of destiny.
Li Shen paused at the threshold, the jade slip warm in his hand. So this is where my true path begins.