Su Lian moved through the chaotic streets with an unerring grace that defied her blindness. She didn't hesitate or feel her way with a stick; she simply walked, her steps sure and rhythmic, as if she could hear the music of the city and was dancing to its beat. She navigated around a cart piled high with melons, sidestepped a puddle of questionable origin, and nodded a greeting to a stooped old woman without ever breaking her stride.
Lin Feng followed, his mind a whirlwind. Her perception, her composure in the face of danger, the silver needles... she was unlike anyone he had met in this world. She wasn't a cultivator chasing power, yet she possessed a depth he couldn't fathom.
They arrived at a simple, well-kept wooden building tucked away on a quieter side street. A worn sign, carved with the character for "peace," hung above the door. The air here was clean, scented with a mixture of drying herbs and a faint, astringent medicinal smell.
"This is my home," Su Lian said, pushing the door open. "And my master's clinic."
The interior was dim and cool, lit by shafts of sunlight filtering through high windows. Shelves lined the walls, filled with countless jars and drawers labeled with neat script. Bunches of herbs hung from the rafters, and the space was dominated by a large, scarred wooden table. An old man with a kind, wrinkled face and eyes that held the patience of mountains looked up from where he was grinding something with a mortar and pestle.
"Lian'er, you're back early," he said, his voice a soft rumble. Then his gaze, sharp and intelligent, fell on Lin Feng. "And you've brought a guest. A disciple of the Azure Cloud, unless I miss my guess. Troubled waters swirl around you, young man."
Lin Feng bowed respectfully. "My name is Lin Feng, Elder. Your disciple was kind enough to offer me shelter."
The old man chuckled. "I am no elder. Just an old doctor named Feng. And Su Lian is her own person. She makes her own choices." He looked at Su Lian. "The Scarlet Moon Grass?"
"It is here, Master," she said, pulling the small, carefully wrapped herb from her pouch and placing it on the table. "The usual pests tried to interfere. Lin Feng discouraged them."
Old Man Feng's eyes crinkled at the corners as he looked back at Lin Feng. "Did he now? My thanks. That herb is for a poultice to ease the lung fever of the baker's son. The boy would have suffered without it." He gestured to a low stool. "Sit. Lian'er, some tea for our guest."
As Su Lian moved to a small brazier to prepare tea, Lin Feng sat, feeling the quiet, purposeful energy of the place seep into him. It was a sanctuary, a world away from the competitive frenzy of the sect.
"You carry a great turmoil within you, Lin Feng," Old Man Feng said, returning to his grinding. "Your spirit is like a river that has been forcibly diverted. It fights against its new banks."
The accuracy of the statement was unsettling. "The path of cultivation is not an easy one," Lin Feng replied, choosing his words carefully.
"The path of being alive is not an easy one," the old man corrected gently. "Cultivation merely amplifies what is already there. It makes the strong stronger, the cruel crueler, and the conflicted... well, it tears them apart." He paused his work and looked directly at Lin Feng. "You have been given a tool of great power, but you do not yet understand its purpose. You wield it like a child with a sword, afraid of cutting yourself."
Lin Feng's blood ran cold. He knows? How could he know about the System?
As if reading his mind again, Old Man Feng smiled. "I do not know the nature of your 'tool,' disciple. But I have been reading the energy of people for eighty years. I see its imprint on you. A foreign clarity, a structure that is not your own, layered over a soul that is still finding its footing. It gives you strength, yes, but it also creates a dissonance. A lie you tell yourself with every breath."
Su Lian brought over two simple clay cups of steaming tea. She handed one to Lin Feng, her fingers brushing his. A jolt, not of electricity, but of profound calm, passed through him. Her misty eyes seemed to see straight into the heart of the conflict the old doctor had described.
"My master speaks the truth," she said, her voice soft. "I felt it in the alley. You are two people. One who acts, and one who watches, and they are not yet in harmony."
Lin Feng stared into his tea, the fragrant steam warming his face. He had been so focused on survival, on leveling up, on completing quests, that he had never stopped to consider the integration of it all. The System was a part of him now, but he was still Lin Feng, the office worker from Earth. The man who had killed a boar and confronted a bully. These selves were at war.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, looking up at Old Man Feng.
"Because a patient who does not know he is sick cannot be healed," the doctor said simply. "And because my disciple seems to think you are worth the trouble." He gave a fond glance in Su Lian's direction.
Su Lian did not blush or demur. She simply sipped her tea. "A soul out of balance attracts chaos. It is a simple law of nature. You helped restore balance for me today. It is only right to offer guidance in return."
For the next hour, they spoke not of cultivation techniques or sect politics, but of philosophy. Old Man Feng spoke of the body as a microcosm of the world, of the flow of energy as a reflection of intent, of strength not as domination but as harmony. Su Lian would occasionally interject with a startlingly perceptive comment, speaking of "seeing" the emotional colors in a person's energy—the red of rage, the grey of despair, the discordant clash of purple and black that she now sensed in him.
It was a language Lin Feng had never heard, a perspective that challenged the very foundation of the "Hero's System" in his head. The System was all about metrics: levels, points, rewards. This was about... wholeness.
[ External philosophical input detected. Analyzing... ]
[ Concept: Internal Harmony. Benefit: Potential for increased stability during cultivation breakthroughs. Reduced risk of Qi deviation. ]
[ Suggestion: Integrate data into ongoing cultivation practice. ]
Even the System was taking note. It wasn't rejecting the ideas; it was cataloging them as useful data.
As the light outside began to fade, Lin Feng knew he had to return to the sect. He stood and bowed deeply to both of them. "Thank you. For the tea, for the sanctuary, and for the wisdom. I have... much to think about."
Old Man Feng nodded. "You are welcome here anytime, Lin Feng. Remember, the strongest tree is not the one that refuses to bend, but the one that can sway with the wind without breaking."
Su Lian walked him to the door. "The path ahead of you is dark, Lin Feng," she said, her silver eyes seeming to gaze into a future he couldn't see. "The choices you make will not be easy. But you do not have to be a blade alone. You can be the hand that holds it."
He left the clinic, stepping back into the noisy, pungent reality of the Outer City. But he carried the silence of the clinic with him, a small, quiet space in his mind. He had come seeking an escape and had found, instead, a reflection. They had held up a mirror, and for the first time, he had seen the crack running down the center of his soul.
He had a System that promised to make him a hero. And he had just met two people who suggested that might be the wrong goal entirely.
The walk back up the mountain was thoughtful, the weight of the sect's expectations feeling both heavier and more distant. He had a new quest now, one the System hadn't generated. The quest to integrate, to find harmony. And he had a feeling that failing this quest would have consequences far worse than any System punishment.