The courtyard looked different now.
Wang Jie was kneeling again, but this time it wasn't out of pain. He looked calm. Collected. His posture was straight. His hands rested on his knees like he'd been meditating for years instead of just surviving his own blood-boiling transformation.
Above his name, a new tag still glowed softly.
[Sect Master]
Jin Hao stared at it for a moment. "Still weird seeing that next to your name. But… not bad."
He tapped open the map again. Still one dot. No changes. No new tabs. No alerts.
But he felt something was close.
The system hadn't given him much lately, but something about the way it reacted to progress… it wasn't random. It was watching. Measuring.
Jin Hao had a hunch. A real one this time.
If Wang Jie broke through to the next realm, or if someone else joined the sect, the system would react. Something would unlock. The next layer of whatever this game really was.
He opened the inventory. It was still full of everything he'd bought earlier. Manuals, pills, robes, spiritual furniture for some reason. A lot of it was overkill. Some of it probably useless.
But one item caught his eye.
[Five Elements Formation – Divine Quality]
He scrolled to it and tapped.
The description said it was a large-scale formation made from five element flags. Fire, water, wood, earth, and metal. It could protect, attack, and increase qi absorption in the area it covered. The kind of thing you'd expect to see protecting a mid-tier sect's core disciples. Not just sitting in a dusty digital vault.
He frowned. "Right. I forgot I bought this."
On the screen, Wang Jie stood and walked toward the supply crate Jin Hao had placed earlier. He opened it and pulled out the five flags like he'd known exactly where they were.
Jin Hao tilted his head. "Huh. You didn't even pause."
Wang Jie walked to the edge of the courtyard and began placing the flags one at a time. Each one pulsed gently when it touched the ground. A warm red glow for fire. A cool blue ripple for water. Soft green, deep silver, and quiet yellow followed as the rest fell into place.
Lines of energy connected them, forming a wide circular pattern on the courtyard floor. It glowed faintly, not bright enough to blind, but strong enough to feel.
The moment the last flag locked into place, something shifted.
The air got heavier.
Qi started flowing in from every direction. Slowly at first, then faster. The formation wasn't loud about it. It just worked. Smooth. Constant. Natural.
The courtyard felt different now.
Less like a ruin. More like a real sect.
Jin Hao leaned in. "Okay. Now we're getting somewhere."
Wang Jie walked back to the center and sat down. He didn't speak or look around. He closed his eyes and began to cultivate.
Jin Hao watched in silence. The soft glow from the formation reflected off the screen.
Wang Jie sat cross-legged in the middle of the formation, qi swirling around him in slow, steady waves. It wasn't fast. But it was working. He was building himself back up, one breath at a time.
Jin Hao watched for a while longer. Nothing changed.
No alerts. No flashing lights. No sudden messages like [NEW FEATURE UNLOCKED].
Just quiet breathing and glowing lines in cracked stone.
He leaned back. "Alright. That's gonna take hours. Or days."
'Not to mention, I'm incredibly hungry now. I can't hold it anymore.'
He opened the map. Still one green dot. Still one disciple. Still the same tiny circle in a massive, empty world.
He let out a slow sigh. "Guess I'll check again later."
His stomach rumbled.
Loud.
He frowned and looked toward the noodle pack sitting on the shelf.
Then looked away.
"That's not gonna cut it this time."
He stood up, grabbed his jacket, and slipped his comm-tab into his pocket. As the door opened, the hallway's rune light flickered to life. Cold, white. Same as always. Dusty air. Quiet hum from the city far below.
He stepped out.
His neighbor's door was open just slightly. It always was.
The old man who lived there stood in the doorway. He looked the same as usual — loose robes, thin frame, a faint scent of incense on his sleeves. His face was lined but kind. He was watering a small potted vine that hung by the door.
He looked up and smiled.
"Out for food?"
Jin Hao nodded. "Yeah. Just something warm."
The man nodded slowly. His eyes lingered for a second longer than they should have.
Jin Hao felt it.
Not killing intent. Not hostility.
Just… attention.
The kind that made the back of his neck itch.
But he said nothing. He was already used to it. After all, he was once the center of attention among his peers, albeit in a negative way.
"Have a good meal," the man said.
Jin Hao nodded again and walked toward the stairwell.
He didn't look back.
The elevator was broken, as always.
The stairwell was narrow and dim. His steps echoed as he descended. Floor six. Five. Four. He didn't rush.
Outside, the lights of Tianhai shimmered through the stairwell window. Traffic drifted past on floating platforms. Spell-glass panels flickered with school rankings and tournament ads. Somewhere nearby, a cultivator team was hauling a huge beast core through the sky, wrapped in a glowing net.
Jin Hao kept walking.
On the sixth floor, back in the hallway, the old man stood still.
He set the watering can down gently. Then raised his hand. His fingers moved in a slow, practiced pattern. A faint line of light passed across his pupils as a silent technique activated.
He didn't do this lightly.
This wasn't curiosity.
He had been ordered.
Surveil the Jin Clan dropout. The forgotten prince. The one with no spirit root and no future. There had been nothing strange about him for years.
But now…
Now there was something.
The old man focused his spiritual sense and extended it forward. Not far. Just enough to brush the edge of Jin Hao's departing presence. A surface memory. A passing glimpse.
He reached.
And something reached back.
In the instant his mind touched Jin Hao's—
—a roar echoed in his soul.
He had no time to pull away.
A golden dragon coiled behind Jin Hao's consciousness. It wasn't bound. It wasn't sealed. It simply existed. Watching. Waiting.
The dragon turned its head.
And struck.
"Roar!"
The old man's body locked. His pupils shrank. His legs buckled. Blood ran from his nose.
He collapsed silently in front of his own door, eyes wide in shock.
His soul was gone before his body hit the floor.
The vine beside him swayed once, then stilled.
Downstairs, Jin Hao pushed open the front door and stepped into the city air.
He took a breath.
"…Man, the air smells like grilled duck and engine fumes."
He looked around, deciding where to eat.
Unaware that someone had just died trying to read his mind.
"Still smells better than my room," he muttered.
He walked past the noodle stalls and talisman shops without stopping. They were too expensive or too crowded. He wasn't in the mood to fight over a table with a guy in Foundation Realm robes bragging about his nine-inch big black dantian.
Instead, he followed the familiar cracked sidewalk down a side alley lined with flickering rune lights. The signs here weren't flashy. The spells didn't speak into your ear. But the food was cheap, hot, and honest.
Well, usually.
He turned the corner and saw it.
"Uncle He's Home-Style Spirit Diner."
The sign was half-lit, as always. The red paint was peeling, and one of the characters was upside-down. Jin Hao smiled.
Still the same.
He stepped inside.
The scent of fried rice, meat, and slightly burnt qi-oil filled the air. The tables were scratched, the menu was a scroll nailed to the wall, and the floor creaked when you walked too fast.
"Jin brat," called a voice from the back.
Uncle He stepped out from behind the counter, wiping his hands with a towel.
He looked the same as ever. Round face, thin beard, old apron tied loosely around his stomach. His qi presence was faint, steady, and unremarkable. Just a regular guy with a kitchen full of spirit meat and a strong back.
"You haven't been here in a while," the old man said.
"I've been busy," Jin Hao said, sliding into his usual seat near the wall. "Breakthrough stuff. Serious cultivation."
Uncle He snorted. "Sure. Last time you 'cultivated,' you fell asleep in the restroom and blocked the talisman drain."
"That was a tactical nap," Jin Hao said. "Very advanced technique."
Uncle He just shook his head and went to the back.
Jin Hao leaned back and exhaled slowly.
The place was warm. It didn't glow or hum or buzz with spiritual light. It was just… simple. The same way it had always been.
And for a few minutes, he forgot everything.
The sect.
The pills.
The glowing shop.
He just listened to the kitchen sounds and waited for food.
Uncle He brought out the plates one by one. Spirit pork in glazed sauce. Stir-fried beast roots. Hot rice with steamed leaf-talisman bits. Jin Hao didn't say a word.
He ate.
And kept eating.
Plate after plate.
Even when he was full, something inside him kept pushing.
He felt hollow. Not empty — more like his body was still catching up. Like something was rebuilding from the inside and needed the energy.
His stomach hurt. But he didn't stop.
Until he checked his account.
His comm-tab buzzed softly.
[Monthly balance: 0.00 credits]
"…Right," he muttered, frowning. "That expired today."
His allowance from his last job was gone. He hadn't worked in weeks. And now that the sect game was taking all his attention…
He rubbed the back of his head. "Uncle He, I might need to—"
"Don't worry about it," the old man said, stepping over and placing another plate down. "Eat first. We'll settle it later."
Jin Hao looked up. "You sure?"
Uncle He smiled. "You're a regular. That counts for something."
Jin Hao nodded slowly. "Thanks."
He didn't notice the faint flicker in the man's eyes.
Or the way he turned back to the kitchen and whispered something behind the curtain.
Inside that kitchen, hidden in the steam and scent of meat, a tiny pouch was unwrapped. A black powder, just a pinch, was stirred into one of the sauces. Not enough to change the smell. Not enough to change the taste.
It was a spy's trick. Old and subtle. The substance there was to weaken physical abilities, to cut off any remaining possibilities of Jin Hao cultivating. No pain. No signs. Just a lingering trace.
Uncle He had done it cleanly.
But the food never made it past the first bite.
The pills circulating inside Jin Hao — the ones synced from Wang Jie — dissolved the foreign substance instantly. The moment it touched his stomach, a trace of golden light pulsed faintly through his core.
Gone.
Neutralized.
Jin Hao kept eating.
Still hungry.
Still unaware.
He finished the last plate, wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and stood up.
"Thanks again, Uncle. I'll pay you back next week."
The old man just smiled and nodded.
Jin Hao walked out.
He didn't see the second glance the man gave him.
Didn't notice how the warmth in the shop faded the moment he stepped outside.
Didn't know that the face he trusted for years didn't belong to the same man anymore.
He just walked home. Still thinking about cultivation.