The morning sun struck the training yard in a clean, decisive line, cutting the mist into bands that hung like banners. Li Wei stood at the center with nothing on him but a plain robe and the steady, practiced breath of someone who knew an audience could be a tool as well as a hazard. The outer benches were full—apprentices, trainees, cooks, and a smattering of elders' assistants. Above, on the inner veranda, a tighter knot of inner disciples watched with unreadable faces. Master Han sat to one side; Lan Yue's profile leaned against a column like a blade balanced on its edge. Elder Ji did not show, but that absence was its own kind of watchfulness.
Hua Lin moved beside Li Wei, slate in hand. "This is not spectacle," she reminded him quietly. "This is instruction. Make the technique look like technique—precise, ethical, defensible."
He nodded. The ledger in his pocket felt like ballast. Today's objective, the system had told him the night before, was simple and dangerous in equal measure: demonstrate a charm-technique variant in public that subdues or calms without dishonor, emphasizes consent, and can be taught as a defensive method rather than an exploit.
[DAILY NOTICE]
Host: Li Wei
Event: Outer Demonstration — Respectful Charm-Technique (Heavenly Groping Hand variant)
Objective: Show ethical application; recruit at least one skeptical observer into hands-on practice.
Reward: +200 Qi; Reputation +10 if successful.
Warning: Inner monitors active.
Li Wei chose volunteers deliberately. He called Chen Bo forward—the broad-shouldered disciple whose bitterness had been the loudest thorn in recent weeks—and a calm healer sister known for even temperament. The choice was tactical: pair the skeptic with someone who read body language for a living. Chen Bo's expression read like a man being led toward an exam, jaw tight, pride bristling.
He began with words rather than motion. "This is not seduction," he said, voice carrying across the yard. "It is a defensive cadence. It uses qi to stabilize an opponent's momentum or calm a frantic mind. Consent matters—there is a stop-signal. If you do not accept it, the technique is not used."
He walked Chen Bo through the three-part script: verbal consent, a clear stop signal (a single palm clap twice), and aftercare protocol. Chen Bo grunted, halfway between skepticism and curiosity, and signed with the practiced slowness of a man who would not be rushed into trusting.
The first demonstration was mechanical and clinical. Li Wei held his palm clear, fingers relaxed. He did not reach for Chen Bo's flesh; he projected a small, contained field of qi—what Hua Lin called a "cushioning concordance." It touched Chen Bo not as heat but as a suggestion: slow your breath. Let your body feel the ground. The effect was immediate and demonstrative—not erotic or invasive, but like a hand at the collar of a runaway robe that re-centers it.
Chen Bo's shoulders, which had bunched up like a loaded pack, dropped half an inch. His breath, which had been shallow and fast, lengthened by two counts. The healer sister nodded as if noting a pulse. Around the yard a few people made low sounds—surprise, perhaps, at something that felt like power used to steady rather than to display.
"Now," Li Wei said, inviting, "try it yourself. Follow my hand position, breathe with me, and speak the consent line." He guided Chen Bo's hand into the position—center palm, fingers loose. Chen Bo's motion was awkward at first. When he mimicked the gentle projection, the yard watched a bully learning to steady someone rather than to strike. The healer sister played the part of the calmed, and Chen Bo's eyes softened with the first hint of comprehension.
Hua Lin called out technical corrections—align wrist a degree, let the elbow float rather than lock—and Chen Bo, sweat on his brow, adjusted. The system's blue rectangle blinked.
[DEMONSTRATION — PARTIAL SUCCESS]
Result: Volunteer-mediated calming achieved. Reward: +80 Qi (shared). Note: Practical teaching effective.
Having softened the skeptic, Li Wei escalated to a controlled contest: two volunteers in light protective gear, a feinted charge meant to test the technique under motion. He used the Heavenly Groping Hand not as mockery but as refined leverage—a palm that met momentum and traded it for off-axis redirection. The attacker slipped but did not fall hard; the defender staggered into controlled posture rather than panic. The crowd's reaction moved from curiosity to a kind of measured applause—those who understood technique nodded; those who did not, felt the lesson in their bones.
He stopped midway and used the moment to instruct about boundaries. "Technique is not touch without assent," he said. "It's a coordinated contract. If the opponent signals stop, you cease. If the opponent is unclear, you retreat to interview and verify."
A younger outer sister raised her hand. "How do you know it won't be abused?" she asked plainly.
Li Wei answered without flourish. "You schedule witnesses. You require written consent for tutorials. You keep aftercare public and documented. You teach everyone the stop-signal. We make the method public property, not private leverage." He met Chen Bo's eyes; the man's face looked less carved with contempt and more like a stone warmed by sun.
Above, Lan Yue's mouth curved the tiniest fraction. Master Han's fingers tightened and released once—an almost-unnoticed sign. Hua Lin recorded the session on slate and later would sign the ledger.
The system gave its verdict with the clean, unemotional chime it always favored.
[SESSION COMPLETE — PUBLIC DISPLAY]
Result: Respectful Charm-Technique demonstrated; Teaching uptake: moderate. Reward Granted: +200 Qi. Reputation: +12 (public cohort). Advisory: Inner attention increased; maintain governance protocols.
Elder Ji's office sent a short note that afternoon—no reprimand contained, only a reminder to "continue transparency and safeguard supervision." It read like permission with teeth. The envoy's talisman, quiet in Li Wei's pocket, vibrated once as if to confirm: you have used leverage to build, not to burn.
That evening, as the yard emptied and the pines stitched shadow into the sky, Chen Bo crossed Li Wei's path. He did not come with swagger but with a different gait, slightly more upright. "I still don't like all of this," he said gruffly, voice softer than Li Wei remembered. "But… the breathing thing helped my headaches. Keep doing it. But don't make us look weak."
Li Wei grinned without mirth. "I don't want you weak," he replied. "I want you stronger, and honest about it."
The display had done more than quiet a circle of whispers. It had shown a craft that could be taught, regulated, witnessed, and audited. It had turned perversion's rumor into something practical: a defensive set, a public curriculum, a documented practice. The yard's gossip would move on to fresher prey; the ledger would hold the proof of what had been done.
Before sleep, Li Wei recorded the session: names, times, consent scripts, aftercare notes, signatures. The Obsidian Heart thudded once in a small, steady beat. He had demonstrated control—not only of technique, but of politics. The Perverted Dao had given him a lever. Today he had used it to pry open a door and prop it with bolts everyone could see. Tomorrow, the inner veranda might look with hunger, suspicion, or study. For now, he had something more useful than applause: a precedent.
End of chapter 23