Yun Zhen woke up with the sunlight crawling across his face and a slow, stabbing ache spreading through his chest. The pain was dull but deep, like someone tapping a cracked stone to see when it would break. He pushed himself upright with a slow breath and muttered, "If this body had one more flaw, it would fall apart from standing up too fast."
His hands trembled slightly when he placed them on his knees. He waited for the shaking to settle before he got to his feet. Even that simple motion made his meridians throb.
[Host stability reduced: 3%.]
He groaned. "You didn't need to tell me. I already feel it."
[Host has not completed the First Yin Contact quest.]
"I know," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "I'm not blind."
The System stayed silent, but that silence carried judgment like an icy draft.
Yun Zhen stepped outside the small wooden structure the clan called his "room," though it felt more like storage for a person nobody wanted. The air was crisp, and the training grounds nearby echoed with shouts from morning drills. Younger disciples were already swinging wooden swords and practicing footwork under an instructor's commands.
Yun Zhen headed toward the storage hall where lower disciples kept manuals they barely touched. Every step created a small pulse of discomfort in his chest. Even with a straight back and steady face, the pain ate at him like tiny insects.
If my condition drops much further, I'll collapse again, he thought while walking. Can't approach Yun Xue yet. She'll demand answers I can't give. Better to fix what I can on my own first.
He entered the manual hall. Dusty shelves filled the room, stuffed with scrolls that disciples ignored because they were too weak or too boring.
A boy organizing scrolls looked up, frowned, and said, "Why are you here, bastard?"
Yun Zhen gave him a calm glance. "Reading."
The boy snorted. "Since when can you read a technique?"
"Since now," Yun Zhen replied and walked past.
The boy muttered something insulting but didn't follow. No one bothered with a person who couldn't reach even Elementary Spirit Realm Stage 2 after years.
Yun Zhen's fingers traced along the shelves until he stopped at a low-level movement technique: Silent Steps, a basic footwork art every disciple shrugged off because it was too simple.
He pulled the scroll down and opened it.
The moment his eyes swept over the first few diagrams, the knowledge slotted into his mind with perfect clarity. The motions, the energy channels, the hidden efficiency tricks—they all connected like someone had just drawn a full path through his thoughts.
He whispered, "It's really this easy."
[Host comprehension: 100%.]
"Comprehension isn't the problem," he murmured, rolling the scroll back up. "The problem is using it with this weak shell."
He left the hall and made his way to a quiet training space behind the clan garden where no one usually came. The place was filled with old stone tiles, a dried fountain, and a cracked wall someone once tried repairing and then abandoned.
Yun Zhen stood in the center, inhaling slowly through his nose, chest burning like hot needles sliding across bone.
He murmured, "Alright, let's see if this body can move."
He lifted his right foot, shifted his weight slightly, and activated the first motion of Silent Steps. His qi stirred faintly, shaky as a dying candle flame.
One step—clean, smooth.
Two steps—his foot landed so softly the air didn't shift.
On the third step, something in his left leg jolted like a wire snapping. Pain shot through his hip and up along his spine. His face tightened as he fell to one knee.
"Damn it," he hissed.
His entire left side felt numb, and the meridians pulsed violently.
[Warning: Host exceeded safe output.]
"No kidding," he groaned as he squeezed the muscle in his thigh. "I only used the base form."
[Host body condition cannot support full technique performance.]
[Recommendation: Reduce output.]
Yun Zhen gave a humorless laugh. "You talk like I didn't discover that with my face nearly hitting the floor."
He stayed on his knee until the pressure faded from his spine. Sweat rolled down the side of his face even though he hadn't done anything that counted as real training. It felt pathetic, but he didn't waste time feeling sorry.
He stood again, slower this time.
He whispered, "Fine. If my body can't use the full art, I'll remake it."
His right foot slid out in a shorter motion, barely using qi this time. He used muscle balance instead of spiritual reinforcement. His hips shifted differently, his weight distributed more evenly. It wasn't perfect—it was ugly compared to the actual technique—but it worked.
He took another step, tiny and controlled.
This time, pain didn't shoot up his leg.
"Good," he murmured.
He tried the movement again, and again, smaller each time, adjusting the speed and angle. He listened to the faint reactions inside his body. Every breath gave him feedback: which meridian hurt, which muscle trembled, which joint could handle pressure.
He shaped the technique around his weakness.
By the tenth attempt, the modified version flowed smoothly, almost elegant in its own broken way.
"This will do for now," he muttered with a quiet sense of relief.
[Efficiency: 41%.]
[Acceptable for current body condition.]
Yun Zhen let out a slow breath. "Better than nothing."
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. The small success gave him a strange warmth in his chest, something like satisfaction mixed with irritation that this was all he could manage.
He whispered, "I used to bend mountains with a gesture. Now I'm impressed because I walked ten steps without collapsing. Life has a sick sense of humor."
Someone behind him cleared their throat.
Yun Zhen turned his head.
A young clan member—Yun Hei, one of the boys who had mocked him in the courtyard—stood frozen at the edge of the training ground. His mouth hung open slightly.
"You… did that technique," Yun Hei said awkwardly. "Silent Steps… that wasn't how it's supposed to look, but it… It still looked like something."
Yun Zhen answered, "Your observation skills improved today?"
Yun Hei flinched at the tone.
"You… when did you learn it?"
"Just now."
Yun Hei stared at him with disbelief. "You're lying. You can't learn something like that just now."
Yun Zhen stepped forward slowly, demonstrating the altered movement. The boy's eyes followed the motion, and he swallowed.
"That's… that's still pretty quick," he muttered nervously.
Yun Zhen shrugged as he passed him.
"Then maybe you should practice more."
Yun Hei didn't respond. He simply watched Yun Zhen walk away with confused anger simmering behind his eyes.
Word will spread, Yun Zhen thought. They won't know what to make of it. Good. Confusion means attention, and attention means chances to move.
He reached the far wall and sat with his back against the cool stone. The morning sun warmed his face, but the inside of his body remained cold and unstable.
He closed his eyes.
"System," he murmured. "Stabilize what you can."
[Processing…]
A slow pulse spread through his abdomen. The pain lessened for a moment, then tightened again before fading slightly.
[Host stability: +8%.]
[Realm stabilized: Elementary Spirit Realm — Stage 1.]
Yun Zhen exhaled with a heavy breath. "That's something."
[Host still risks collapse without Yin contact.]
He rubbed his forehead with a sigh. "You're really desperate about that quest."
[Accurate.]
He looked toward the sky, watching a few clouds drifting lazily.
"I'll handle it," he said softly, though the words carried a note of reluctance. "But not by running to Yun Xue like some hungry beast."
[Host survival decreases the longer the quest is delayed.]
"And my dignity decreases the faster I chase her," he muttered back.
The training grounds echoed with distant shouts again. Yun Zhen leaned back, feeling the stone at his spine and the heavy burn in his chest.
He whispered to himself, "At least I moved today."
Then he added with a faint grin, "A weak step is still a step."
End Of Chapter 5