Lin Yuan had not gone far before he understood exactly how serious the system was when it spoke of survival.
The mountain was not kind to the injured.
Every descent across loose rock forced him to hold his breath against the pain pulsing through his chest. The partially repaired meridians did not feel like a blessing. They felt like freshly cleared paths through dry, brittle earth—unstable, sensitive, and far too easy to break again if he stepped wrong.
Even so, he noticed something new.
When he stopped completely and closed his eyes, he could sense faint currents in the air. He could not see them, and he certainly could not control them, but he could tell they existed. Threads of something subtle flowing through the world. The sensation was blurry and frustrating, like hearing a conversation through a wall. But for someone who had been told he was born without a path, even that smallest perception felt almost violent.
By noon he found a natural shelter between two leaning boulders. It was little more than a hollow protected from the wind, but it was enough to let him sit down, drink from a crack in the rock where water had collected, and bring up the system interface again.
The light appeared before him in silent obedience.
Founder Novice Pack (available).
Recommended activation: yes.
Risk of extreme pain: high.
Probability of initial benefit: very high.
Lin Yuan read the line twice and let out a dry laugh.
"At least you're honest."
No answer came, so he took the time to think.
If he did not activate the pack, he would keep moving half-broken, without resources, without techniques, without any real understanding of the system. If he did activate it, he might worsen his condition or end up collapsed somewhere on the mountainside.
But caution, when one was weak and alone, easily became another name for waiting to lose.
He inhaled.
"Activate it."
The pain hit at once.
It was not like the initial repair, which had been a savage invasion of his meridians. This time the sensation concentrated in his abdomen, chest, and spine, as though some dense force were pressing the newly mended parts of him into place.
Lin Yuan dropped to his knees in the gravel.
Heat surged from his core toward his shoulders, then crashed downward again in waves that tore through routes inside his body he had only just begun to recognize.
"Initial base adjustment in progress," the voice said. "Residual damage stabilizing. Limited purification. Correction of lethal deviations."
Lin Yuan gasped and dug his fingers into the ground until he folded over himself. The pain was not only physical. Each wave dragged something with it—fatigue, impurities, stagnant blood, a murky residue that felt as if it had lived in his body for years.
A sharp smell rose from his skin.
Then came the worst part.
An icy pressure sliced through his newly repaired meridians. Where there had been fire, there were now blades of frost cutting through his insides. Lin Yuan shook from head to toe. He had no idea how long it lasted—one minute, perhaps, or an eternity.
When it finally ended, he was lying on his side between the rocks, drenched in sweat and covered with a dark filmy residue mixed with blood and oily grime forced from his pores.
The interface shone with insulting calm.
Founder Novice Pack activated.
Rewards obtained:
— Partial meridian stabilization
— Initial opening to qi
— Basic breathing technique: Grey Breath Gathering Method
— 5 contribution points
— Rudimentary local territory map (incomplete)
It took Lin Yuan a moment to gather enough strength to sit up.
"You could start by showing that before the pain," he muttered.
"The pain was part of the reward," the voice replied.
He stared at the air, exhausted and incredulous.
"I'm going to assume that makes sense to you."
He had no energy left to argue, so he focused on what mattered. The basic technique unfolded in his mind as if someone had written a set of precise instructions behind his thoughts. It was not profound. Nothing about it sounded celestial or lofty. It was a foundation and nothing more: a simple way to sit, breathe, draw in the shallowest qi from the surroundings, and guide it slowly along safe routes.
He tried it.
First he cleaned himself as best he could with water and broad leaves. Then he sat down with his back straight and followed the posture imprinted in his mind. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale again. At first nothing happened except the discomfort of a wounded boy trying to pretend he was a cultivator.
But on the tenth cycle, he felt a thread.
Very faint.
Fainter than a breeze.
A slight presence descended with his breath into the center of his chest and, for a moment, brushed the entrances of his meridians like water touching parched ground.
His eyes flew open.
It was real.
Not imagination. Not wishful thinking.
He had drawn in qi.
The amount was laughable. So little that any true sect disciple would likely sneer at it. But that did not matter. It was enough to leave him utterly still for several seconds, feeling the echo of that contact through his entire body.
The voice returned.
Status updated:
— Bearer has initiated basic qi intake.
— Cultivation not consolidated.
— Recommendation: continue practice until stable entry is established.
Lin Yuan closed his eyes again.
This time it was not because the system had told him to, but because he needed to.
He tried again.
And again.
And again.
He did not draw in qi with every breath. Sometimes it took ten cycles. Sometimes fifteen. Sometimes he only felt a shadow of it before it dissolved. But little by little he understood something essential: even with damaged meridians, even with a broken base, the path was no longer completely sealed.
It was not fast.
It was not elegant.
It was not easy.
But it existed.
When the sun dropped behind the rocks, Lin Yuan was still seated between the boulders, breathing slowly, filthy, exhausted, and physically half in ruins.
And yet, for the first time since the square, he did not feel empty.
He felt hungry.
Not for food, though that hunger was there as well.
For something else.
The hunger of someone who had finally seen a real crack in a wall he had believed absolute.
He opened his eyes toward the cloudy sky and let out a long breath.
"All right," he said. "If this is only the beginning, then I won't waste it."