The sun rose lazily over the Eastern Cloud Sect, casting long shadows across the courtyard where Li Tian sat with his back against an old pine tree. His eyes were half-closed, and he was carefully balancing a half-eaten steamed bun on his knee. From the outside, it looked like a master deep in meditation, communing with the universe—or maybe just considering his next nap.
But inside Li Tian's mind, a small battle raged. Not against demons or swordsmen—but against the temptation to tell someone about the strange "voice" that sometimes popped up in his head, guiding him toward random actions with bizarre results.
"Keep quiet. Don't tell Master Zhao, don't tell anyone," he muttered under his breath, more to convince himself than anyone else.
The voice—whatever it was—had been appearing more often since the Central Martial Exhibition. At first, he'd thought he was imagining things. Maybe it was a side effect of eating too many steamed buns. But now, it was impossible to deny. The "system" (as he half-jokingly called it) nudged him toward actions that somehow resulted in better cultivation, more impressive displays of power, or just plain luck.
Yet Li Tian didn't want anyone to know.
Why? Because the moment he opened his mouth, everyone would expect him to use it on command. He'd become a living demonstration machine. Worse, if word got out, he'd probably be pestered nonstop to teach them the secret—assuming there was even a secret to teach. And that was the last thing a lazy cultivator like him wanted.
As if on cue, the voice chimed again:
> "Host, maintain low profile. Avoid suspicion. Your Slacker Path will flourish under the radar."
Li Tian snorted.
"Yeah, yeah. Under the radar. Like a rock in a pond."
Just then, a shadow fell over him. It was Senior Brother Zhao, fresh from morning training and glowing with energy.
"Brother Li! You're sitting again? Don't you want to join the practice hall today? The new sword technique requires rigorous training." Zhao's tone was half-teasing, half-serious.
Li Tian yawned dramatically, shielding the motion with his hand. "Eh, I'm practicing the ancient art of… deep thinking."
Zhao squinted suspiciously. "Thinking? You've been 'thinking' here every morning since the exhibition. You sure it's training?"
Li Tian flashed a lazy grin. "Absolutely. You have to be sharp in the mind before sharp in the sword, right?"
Zhao shook his head, but the smile lingered on his lips. "Alright, Master of Deep Thoughts, just don't get caught napping during class."
As Zhao walked away, Li Tian leaned back against the pine again and closed his eyes. The voice returned with a hint of satisfaction:
> "Successful interaction with fellow disciple. Social stealth improving."
"Stealth," Li Tian muttered, "is the only skill I'm really good at."
---
Later that afternoon, the sect's common hall buzzed with activity. Disciples were training, chatting, and preparing for the next big sect event. Li Tian shuffled in, hands in pockets, and headed straight for the tea table. While everyone else was sweating over sword forms and spell chants, Li Tian focused on the perfect pour.
As he filled his cup, he felt a subtle pull inside—a suggestion to take a slightly different path. The voice whispered:
> "Host, an opportunity for cultivation enhancement lies ahead. Engage carefully."
Curious (and a bit wary), Li Tian looked around. He spotted Mei Lin, his childhood friend, sitting alone near the courtyard garden, studying ancient scrolls. She looked calm, focused, and completely unaware of the brewing chaos around them.
Normally, Li Tian would have avoided interaction to preserve his nap time, but the voice nudged him again.
> "A friendly encounter will improve social bonds. Proceed."
With a slow sigh, Li Tian approached. "Hey, Mei Lin. Studying again? When do you rest?"
Mei Lin looked up, surprised but smiling. "Li Tian! You? I thought you'd be training."
"Training," he echoed with mock seriousness, "is a mental sport. It requires long periods of sitting. Hence, I'm a champion."
She laughed. "Only you could make laziness sound like an art form."
They talked for a few minutes—mostly Mei Lin explaining a complicated Dao scripture, while Li Tian nodded intermittently and tried not to fall asleep. Still, the simple exchange felt good. No cultivation pressure, no expectations. Just two friends enjoying the quiet moments.
Inside, the voice hummed:
> "Social interaction successful. Host's aura of natural charisma subtly increased."
Li Tian rolled his eyes. "If I ever tell you about this voice, promise not to laugh?"
Mei Lin cocked her head. "You've been acting weird lately. If you're hiding something, I'll probably laugh. But I'll listen too."
He smiled wryly. "Fair enough. Let's keep it a secret."
---
Night fell, and the Eastern Cloud Sect grew silent except for the occasional night owl or distant howl. Li Tian sat alone in his room, the moonlight filtering through the wooden lattice windows. He pulled out a worn leather journal and started writing—not cultivation notes or training plans, but observations about the strange guidance he'd been receiving.
"Day 17: Voice insists on 'strategic idleness.' Result: Cultivation increased unexpectedly by +30. Is this a new technique? Or am I just lucky?"
He paused, then scribbled below:
"Note to self: Do not share with anyone. Especially Master Zhao. Especially Mei Lin."
The voice spoke softly:
> "Your caution is wise, Host. The system's origins remain unknown even to me. Discretion ensures your path remains unobstructed."
Li Tian frowned. "You're pretty cryptic for a voice in my head."
> "Mystery breeds strength."
He chuckled quietly. "Or laziness excuses everything."
---
The next morning, rumors of Li Tian's "unseen power" grew louder. This time, the stories claimed he could stop time with a blink, or that his breathing could shatter mountains.
None of it was true.
But nobody cared to check.
Li Tian, as usual, was found outside the sect, staring blankly at a patch of grass while a group of disciples struggled to follow the new "Silent Death" technique they'd all heard about. The technique, apparently, was to do nothing at all—and somehow become unbeatable.
He scratched his head. He didn't even know where these rumors started. The only thing he knew was that sometimes, the voice told him to do nothing—and it worked.
Master Zhao walked by and shook his head. "Brother Li, sometimes doing nothing is the best move."
Li Tian gave a lazy smile. "Exactly. I'm an artist."
As the crowd watched, a sudden gust of wind stirred the leaves. Li Tian barely moved, but the wind seemed to swirl around him like a protective barrier. The younger disciples gasped, convinced they had witnessed a secret aura of power.
Li Tian yawned. "Or maybe it's just the weather."
---
That evening, as the sect quieted down, Li Tian lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
"System," he said quietly, "what exactly are you? Why me?"
> "Unknown. You are host chosen by fate or coincidence. The system is a tool for your Slacker Path. Use it wisely, and the world will bend around your indifference."
He shook his head, a slow smile creeping onto his face. "Sounds like a lot of work to do nothing."
The voice chuckled silently in his mind:
> "That's the point."
And with that, Li Tian drifted off to sleep, already dreaming of sitting in the sun, sipping tea, and letting the world worry about itself.
---