The days folded into weeks. Weeks into a month.
Liang Yu cultivated.
Every night, he sat on his pallet and reached for qi. Every morning, he woke with a little more than he'd had before. The progress was barely measurable—a few extra drops in his dantian, a slightly faster circulation through his meridians. At this rate, he calculated, he would reach Qi Condensation stage 1 in approximately eighty-three days.
Assuming nothing interrupted him.
Assuming the fugitives didn't kill him first.
Assuming the poisoner remained content with their single victim.
He kept the calculations in his head like numbers in a spreadsheet. Variables he could track. Outcomes he could project. It helped, pretending this was just another problem to solve.
Lin Fei came to the garden regularly now.
Not every day—he was too busy for that, with his cultivation and his duties and his growing reputation. But once or twice a week, he would appear at the edge of the seedlings, and Liang Yu would stop weeding, and they would talk.
About nothing, mostly. The weather. The state of the gardens. Lin Fei's frustrations with Elder Zhou's teaching methods. Liang Yu's slow progress in cultivation.
"Heard you're still at zero," Lin Fei said one afternoon, crouching beside him. "Stage 0, I mean. Not even first level."
"That's accurate."
"Most people would be discouraged."
"Most people aren't me."
Lin Fei smiled—a genuine expression, rare and therefore valuable. "No. They're not." He picked up a weed, examined it, tossed it aside. "You know, I could help. Give you tips. Show you better techniques."
"Why?"
"Because we're friends."
The word sat between them, heavy with implication. Liang Yu considered it.
Friends. In my old life, I had friends. People I drank with. People I complained about work with. People who disappeared when I needed help with rent.
Is that what this is?
No. This is different. In this world, friendship is currency. Investment. Leverage.
But Lin Fei doesn't see it that way. He actually means it.
Which makes him useful. And dangerous.
"I appreciate that," Liang Yu said carefully. "But I need to do this myself. If I rely on you for everything, I'll never learn to stand alone."
Lin Fei nodded slowly. "That's... surprisingly wise."
"Even blind pigs find acorns occasionally."
A laugh. Real and warm. Liang Yu filed the sound away for future reference.
Bond Progress: Lin Fei
Current Level: Acquaintance → Casual Friend
Trust: Moderate
Usefulness: High (access, protection, resources)
Risk: Moderate (his enemies become your enemies)
Note: He genuinely likes you. This is both an opportunity and a vulnerability.
The fugitives, meanwhile, remained silent.
Liang Yu went on three more herb gathering missions in the following weeks. Each time, he felt the weight of observation—eyes in the darkness, presence at the edge of perception. But no one approached. No one attacked.
They're waiting. For what?
For you to make a mistake. For the right opportunity. For something.
Or maybe they're not waiting at all. Maybe they're gone. Fled to another sect. Given up.
Maybe. But I can't assume that.
He continued his missions. Continued cultivating. Continued watching for threats that might or might not exist.
The uncertainty was almost worse than an attack would have been.
On the forty-third day since Zhang Hu's execution, Liang Yu reached Qi Condensation stage 1.
It happened mid-meditation, without warning. One moment he was drawing qi in the usual slow trickle; the next, something shifted in his dantian. The accumulated energy—barely a puddle, really—suddenly cohered, stabilized, became a foundation rather than a collection.
He opened his eyes. Held out his hand. Concentrated.
A single leaf, lying on the floor of his room, twitched. Rose. Hovered uncertainly in the air.
Leaf Dance.
He'd practiced the technique for weeks without success. Now, with stage 1, it actually worked.
The leaf spun slowly, responding to his will. It wasn't powerful—couldn't hurt anyone, couldn't even fly straight—but it was his. Proof that he existed in this world. Proof that he could change.
He let it fall and sat in the darkness, breathing.
Stage 1. The very bottom of the ladder. Below almost everyone in the sect. Below the fugitives, probably. But still—
Still, it's something.
Congratulations. You are no longer completely helpless. You are now merely mostly helpless.
Thanks.
The next stage will take longer. Much longer. Your talent is still minimal, even with the pills.
I know.
He stood. Walked to the door. Opened it.
The night air was cool and clean. Stars wheeled overhead, unfamiliar constellations in an unfamiliar sky. Somewhere in the mountains, two men were probably still watching.
Liang Yu looked at the darkness and felt something he hadn't expected: hope.
Small and fragile and probably foolish. But there.
Mission Complete: Build a Foundation
Objective reached: Qi Condensation stage 1
Time taken: 71 days (under three-month limit)
Reward: Meridian expansion technique
New Technique Acquired: Meridian Weaving (Basic)
Effect: Gradually expands meridian capacity through targeted qi circulation
Requirements: Qi Condensation stage 1, daily practice for minimum one hour
Limitations: Very slow. Requires consistent effort over years to see significant results.
Note: This technique will not transform you. It will make transformation slightly less impossible.
Liang Yu absorbed the technique and filed it away for morning practice.
Then he went back inside and slept better than he had in weeks