Yang Feng woke on the floor of his quarters, his body aching like he'd been trampled by spirit beasts and his head pounding with the worst headache of his life. The privacy formation had burned out at some point, the two spirit stones that powered it reduced to ash.
How long had he been unconscious?
He pushed himself to sitting position, every muscle screaming protest, and checked the light coming through his window. Still night, maybe an hour before dawn based on the position of the moon. He'd lost maybe four hours then, not terrible but not good either.
The black mirror fragment lay on the floor beside him, no longer reflecting anything, its surface now completely dark like a window into the void. Yang Feng reached for it carefully, half-expecting pain or that burning sensation from before.
His fingers touched cold glass and nothing else happened.
But something had changed, he could feel it. There was a presence in his mind now, something that hadn't been there before, like a door had opened in his consciousness and led somewhere new. Yang Feng closed his eyes and focused inward, trying to understand what the mirror had done to him.
Silver words appeared in his vision:
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<<- Create Reflection>>
<<- View Reflections>>
<<- Synchronize Experience>>
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Yang Feng's heart hammered as he stared at the words floating in his vision where only he could see them. A system. An actual heaven-defying cultivation system like from the ancient legends, bonded to his soul now, offering functions that sounded impossible.
Create Reflection - that meant copies, duplicates of himself.
Synchronize Experience - that meant whatever the copies did, he'd gain the benefit.
This changed everything.
"Yes," Yang Feng whispered to the empty room, "Show me the tutorial"
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Yang Feng read through the information twice, his mind racing through implications. One reflection right now, more as he advanced to higher realms. Each one could cultivate independently while he maintained his cover at the sect, each one could hunt beasts and gather resources, each one could learn techniques and fight battles.
One becomes two. Two becomes four. Eventually hundreds, thousands.
But first he needed to create the first reflection, and the cost was five mid-grade spirit stones.
Yang Feng pulled out his cloth pouch and counted his savings - eight low-grade spirit stones, worth maybe one-tenth of what he needed. Nowhere near enough, not even close.
"System, can I pay with something else? I don't have five mid-grade stones"
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Blood oath of loyalty to the path - that sounded ominous but Yang Feng didn't hesitate. Whatever it meant, it was better than staying weak and getting beaten to death by Chen Hao or some other inner disciple who decided trash wasn't worth keeping alive.
"I accept"
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Yang Feng arranged his eight low-grade spirit stones in a circle on the floor, then pulled out his cheap iron dagger and cut his palm without hesitation. Blood welled up, dark and red in the moonlight streaming through his window.
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He did, watching his blood sizzle on contact with the spiritual energy contained in each stone. The room began to glow, soft white light building as the system activated whatever formations were needed to create a reflection.
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Yang Feng spoke the words clearly, feeling them resonate through his soul like truth being carved into his very existence, "I walk the path of strength, I refuse to die weak, I will climb to the peak no matter the cost"
The spirit stones exploded into liquid light.
Pain slammed into Yang Feng like a physical blow, the energy pouring into his body and through his meridians, burning and building and reshaping. But this time he was ready for it, teeth clenched and body braced as the system worked.
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"Yes," Yang Feng gasped through the pain, "Make him different"
A projection appeared in his mind showing his own face, and Yang Feng started making changes quickly before the pain overwhelmed him. Taller by four inches. Broader through chest and shoulders. Harder features, sharper jaw, a brutal scar running from temple to jaw like he'd survived a blade fight. Different enough that nobody would connect them.
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The pain intensified, building to a crescendo that made Yang Feng bite down on his sleeve to muffle the scream that wanted to tear from his throat. His cultivation was being mapped, his memories copied, his very soul imprinted and prepared for duplication.
It felt like dying and being reborn simultaneously.
Then suddenly, mercifully, it stopped.
Yang Feng collapsed forward onto his hands, gasping for air and soaked in sweat. When he looked up, someone sat across from him in the cramped quarters.
Taller. Broader. That jagged scar cutting across features that looked mean and dangerous instead of plain and forgettable. But when those eyes opened, Yang Feng felt the connection snap into place like finding a missing limb.
This was him. Actually, truly him. Just wearing a different body.
"Fuck," the word came from both their mouths simultaneously, Yang Feng's voice and a deeper, rougher version.
The reflection - no, Scar, that was a good name for someone with that face - stood and tested his new body, rolling shoulders that were broader than Yang Feng's, clenching fists that were larger and stronger. Every movement Scar made, Yang Feng felt through their connection, experiencing two bodies occupying space simultaneously.
"This is insane," Scar said, his voice matching his harder appearance, "I can feel what you're feeling, think what you're thinking, but I'm also separate. We're the same person but different"
"The system said reflections are me," Yang Feng replied, his mind already racing through possibilities, "Which means you can cultivate independently and I gain the benefit"
"And I can fight, hunt, take risks that would kill you if you tried them directly," Scar finished because of course he understood, they were literally the same person with the same thoughts, "Smart. You stay here playing the worthless trial disciple, I go out and become strong"
Yang Feng nodded, pushing himself to his feet and feeling the strange doubling sensation of seeing the room from two different heights. Scar was taller, the perspective shift was disorienting but manageable.
"We need to move fast," Yang Feng said, thinking through logistics, "You should leave tonight for Beast Valley, start hunting immediately. Every day wasted is cultivation progress lost"
"Agreed," Scar moved to the window and looked out at the darkened sect grounds, "I'll need a weapon and basic supplies, but I can scavenge most of what I need from the forest"
Yang Feng pulled out his iron dagger and tossed it to Scar, "Take this, I'll requisition a new one tomorrow and claim I lost mine during duties"
Scar caught the blade and tested its weight with a few practice swings, the movements natural because he had Yang Feng's muscle memory, "This'll work for now. What about you? Chen Hao is still a threat"
"Let him come," Yang Feng felt something cold settle in his chest, a confidence that hadn't been there before, "I'll play weak and let him think he's winning. By the time he realizes what's happening, I'll be strong enough to break his legs myself"
Scar grinned, the expression savage on his scarred face, "I like how we think"
They were the same person, of course he liked it.
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Yang Feng studied the system notification, then looked at Scar standing ready by the window, and felt determination settle into his bones. Two years of being weak, two years of beatings and humiliation, two years of watching others advance while he stagnated.
That ended tonight.
"Go," Yang Feng said, "Hunt. Get stronger. Show me what we're capable of when we're not held back by this sect's hierarchy"
Scar nodded once, then slipped out the window into darkness without a sound, moving with Yang Feng's stealth training but in a body that was stronger and faster. Through their connection, Yang Feng felt Scar running across rooftops, vaulting over walls, heading toward the eastern gate where Beast Valley waited.
Yang Feng lay back down on his sleeping mat, but he didn't close his eyes. He didn't need to. Through Scar's eyes he could see the sect grounds passing by in a blur, through Scar's ears he could hear the night patrol's footsteps that needed to be avoided, through Scar's nose he could smell the forest approaching.
This was going to work.
The strong eat the weak, but Yang Feng had just found a way to become strong while everyone thought he was still weak.
Let them laugh. Let them beat him. Let Chen Hao think he'd won.
Yang Feng would remember every face when he stood at the peak.