Wuji leaned back against the cold wall of the hut, resting one hand loosely over his broken ribs. The fire had died down to embers.
Across the room, Meiyin quietly arranged the supplies he had bought. Her small form was bent in focus, and her sleeves were rolled up.
Wuji closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and focused on the space in front of his chest.
The blue panel flickered to life with a faint shimmer that only he could see. His eyes immediately landed on the cellular regeneration trait.
The trait had updated; it now had more data, which it had recorded since the first healing had occurred.
[Trait: Cellular Regeneration — Low Tier]
[Status: Active]
[Description: The body's cells accelerate the natural healing process by converting nutrients, calories, and stored energy into biological recovery.]
He looked below the description and saw: [Minor wounds heal in hours, and major wounds heal in days.]
"Well, that's the best a low-tier can offer," Wuji muttered. "If I level it up, will the healing speed up? Will it use less food and energy? Maybe everything will improve: faster healing, less cost, and even limb regeneration."
His eyes scanned the updated panel.
[Conditions for Activation: Only triggers after full digestion of high-nutrient food."
"Just as I thought," he said, nodding to himself. He kept reading.
[Cannot activate if starving, poisoned, or malnourished.]
[Cannot regrow lost limbs or internal organs.]
[Cooldown: The trait remains inactive until the last round of healing is fully processed.]
He sighed. The first two made sense, healing required resources, and there were limits.
But that last line made him clench his jaw.
Who wouldn't want to spam heal? Who wouldn't want to be immortal?
He knew, though, that reality wasn't a fantasy script.
But cells weren't miracles. They needed fuel, time, oxygen, and rest.
No matter how rare the talent, if the vessel was weak, it was just flesh trying to heal itself before it ran out of energy.
He let out a quiet, bitter breath.
"It's not a cooldown, I suppose. It's just my body saying, 'Do that again, and I'll kill you myself.'"
He rubbed his sore, bandaged ribs.
"I can't just stuff my face and regenerate with a pill like some pig. My blood needs to absorb the food. My guts have to break it down. It takes time. And I can't fight time."
His hands curled into fists. "What I need is a stronger body. Maybe then, this trait won't feel like a chain around my neck."
He stood up. Pain rippled through his body, but he didn't wince.
"I guess I'll have to live with the ache. At least until tomorrow."
Wuji looked over at Meiyin, who was quietly folding the new clothes he had bought her.
"Yin Yin," he called softly.
"Yes, brother?" She paused and turned to face him the new clothes in her hands.
"I'm going to see the Fifth Elder tonight," he said. "If he's serious about teaching me martial arts, it might take a while. Don't wait up."
Her fingers tightened on the cloth as she nodded slowly, "Okay, but please…come back safe," she paused, " just…don't listen to them their words don't matter."
He gave a faint smile. "I can let them talk about me all they want," he said. "But if they slander you—"
So let them."Her voice cracked. "I don't care. I don't." She took a shaky breath. "But if you… if you don't come back one night…" She couldn't finish as she looked down at her feet. "Please. Just come home," she said quietly.
He blinked, caught off guard by how serious she sounded. Then, slowly, he nodded.
He stared at her. At the way her shoulders hunched, small in the dim light. "Okay, I would listen to you,"
Without another word, he turned away and lay down, letting his aching body sink into the bed, he wanted to sleep till night reaches.
••••
At night, Wuji limped his way east through the village, ribs still aching beneath the bandages.
The moon hung low, half-hidden behind slow-moving clouds, casting the dirt paths in a dull silver haze.
He reached the Fifth Elder's dojo. The dojo was a large, crude structure made of stone and dark wood.
It was set slightly apart from the village's buildings and resembled the town's buildings. There were no banners or symbols on the door.
He stood outside and heard the muffled thuds of fists and feet coming from behind the walls. The disciples were still training. Wuji stepped inside.
The dojo was dimly lit by candlelight. There were no decorations. A few wooden chairs were scattered about. Sparse shelves were stacked with wraps, books, dried herbs, and bundles of training gear.
"This is it?" he thought. His eyes wandered over the dojo. "I expected something more. Is the Fifth Elder really this poor?"
He moved toward the back and pushed open a creaking door.
Beyond it was a wide training ground bustling with activity.
Men and women between the ages of eighteen and twenty practiced in silence. Some punched sandbags.
Others struck wooden dummies or performed drills without weapons across the dirt yard. No one spoke. No one stopped.
Seated cross-legged on a thick mat near the edge of the yard was the Fifth Elder.
Even in his stillness, he appeared carved from stone and flesh. His thick arms were on his knees.
The candlelight made him seem even larger. He was a living monolith in the moonlit gloom.
Wuji paused at the threshold. "He doesn't just look strong," Wuji thought. "He looks like he forgot how to be weak."
He scanned the training ground once more. Amid the candlelight and flickering shadows, he spotted a few familiar faces.
Wang Da was there, hauling a pair of boulders as if trying to impress the ground itself.
In the far eastern corner, two silhouettes caught his eye. He squinted.
"Chen Yi's lapdogs," he thought immediately. His gaze drifted across the others.
Most of the disciples here had laughed when the chief told him that he had no spirit root. Now, here they were, punching logs and dragging rocks.
"So what are they doing here in the martial arts dojo? I thought spirit-rootless scum like me were the outcasts."
"Maybe they were just happy I joined their 'talentless division,'" he mused, amused by the small minds behind all the swinging fists.
He limped toward the Fifth Elder, but a wall of muscle blocked his path before he could get close.
Broad. Bare-chested. Built like an ox. The man's arms looked like tree trunks under his skin.
"Stop right there," the man said in a low, gravelly voice. "Don't approach Master."
Wuji blinked. "Why?"
"Because I told you to," the man grunted. "Too many questions."
Wuji cocked his head. "Too many?" That was one question. Are you okay in the head?"
Before the wall could respond, another slab of walking beef stepped up beside him, looking almost identical.
"Why do they all look like they were built in the same butcher shop?" Wuji thought.
The second man spoke more calmly. "The master is meditating. If you disturb him now, he'll beat you so badly that you'll piss blood for a month. We're not stopping you—we're saving you."
Wuji raised an eyebrow, then turned to the first man.
"You see that?" he said, gesturing at the second man. "That's how you explain something without sounding like an idiot. Try using your brain next time, if there's anything still rattling around in there."
"Are you calling me an idiot?" the first guy barked as he stepped forward. "Get in the ring! I'll show you what happens when you mess with Huang!"
Wuji raised his hands in mock surrender. "All right, all right. No need to flex your muscles. I'm just saying, I know Wang Da sent you."
That made the big guy pause.
"I saw your nod in the dark. Don't deny it. But tell me, why are you following his orders? What's he offering? Money? Herbs?"
Huang's mouth opened slightly, but he said nothing.
Wuji tilted his head. "Ah, so not money. Not medicine. Don't tell me...it's a favor?"
A flinch. Just a twitch, but it was enough.
Wuji smiled. "I knew it. A favor, huh?" But why? You're stronger than him. You're bigger. You look more impressive, too. What does he have that you don't?"
Huang blinked. "You think so?"
"No," Wuji said flatly. Then, with a smirk, he added, "I know. I don't need to think about it."
A slow grin spread across Huang's thick face. He stepped closer and patted Wuji on the shoulder as if they were old drinking buddies.
"All right then! From now on, if anyone bullies you for looking like a sick chicken, just tell me. I, Huang, will break their legs!"
Off to the side, the second guy stared, stunned.
"How the hell did that kid flip him so fast?" he thought.
Then, from behind, a deep, gravelly voice rang out that felt impossible to ignore.
"Little brat! Come here."
The Fifth Elder hadn't opened his eyes, yet his voice cut through the air like a blade.
The two men looked at each other, then ran off to practice. Wuji walked toward the seated elder and stood in front of him.