For the next three days, I became a ghost in the archives. My new [Veil of the Common Soul
] was a perfect shroud, and my [Ghostly Stride] made my movements a whisper. I was
present, yet utterly unremarkable, a piece of the scenery Su Jin's eyes slid over without
registering.
He was always there, a silent sentinel guarding his prize. He'd arrive at the same time each
morning, retrieve the "Chronicles of the Verdant Sword Saint" from its shelf, and sit at the same
table, his focus absolute. He wasn't just reading; he was scouring the book, his fingers tracing the
pages, his Qi subtly probing the paper. He knew something was hidden, but he couldn't find it.
The low-level illusion charm was just enough to baffle his senses.
My [Observe] skill, now at Apprentice level, was my ace. From across the room, I could see
the faint, shimmering outline of the concealment on page 47. I didn't need to touch the book. I
just needed to see it.
The problem was the angle. He held the book in a way that kept the crucial page blocked from
my view. I needed a distraction. A legitimate, innocent reason for the book to be open, and for
that specific page to be visible.
I found my answer in Xiao Lian.
She was back at her corner table, once again wrestling with the "Discourse on Qi and the Five
Elements." This time, she was on the chapter about "Earth yielding to Metal," and she was
completely lost. It was the perfect storm.
I approached her, my expression one of friendly concern. "Stuck again?"
She looked up, her face a picture of relief. "Brother Lin! Yes. This makes no sense. How does
yielding lead to strength? It sounds like giving up."
"It's not about surrender," I explained, pulling up a stool. "It's about adaptability. Think of a river
(Water) encountering a mountain (Earth). It doesn't smash into it; it yields, flows around it, and
over millennia, it can even carve a canyon through it. That's the kind of strength it's talking
about."
Her eyes widened with dawning comprehension. "Oh! So it's strategic patience!"
"Exactly," I said, smiling. Then, I planted the seed. "You know, I think I saw a great practical
example of that principle in an old chronicle the other day. The 'Verdant Sword Saint' one. There
was a story about how he avoided a direct confrontation with a demon beast by using the
terrain, letting it tire itself out. It was a perfect illustration of 'yielding to overcome.'"
I said it just loudly enough to be overheard by a certain someone.
Su Jin's head snapped up. His eyes, sharp and intent, locked onto me. The mention of the
Verdant Sword Saint had him like a hooked fish.
"Which chronicle?" he asked, his voice cutting through the quiet of the archives.
I feigned a slight jump, as if surprised he'd spoken to me. "Ah, Senior Brother! I... I believe it was
that one." I pointed vaguely towards the shelf where the book resided. "The 'Chronicles of the
Verdant Sword Saint.' I was just browsing it for historical stories. I found the tales quite
engaging."
He studied me for a long moment, my veiled cultivation and earnest expression offering no
threat. "The story of the demon beast. On which page was it?"
This was the moment. I scrunched my face in false concentration. "I... I don't remember the
number. But it was in the middle... with an illustration of a misty valley? I think it was around...
page forty-seven? Or was it forty-eight? My apologies, Senior Brother, my memory is not the
best."
It was a gamble. A blatant, direct pointer to the hidden page. He would be suspicious, but his
desire would override his caution.
His eyes flickered down to the book in his hands. With deliberate slowness, he turned to page
47.
My heart stopped. There, plain as day for my [Observe] skill to see, was the hidden fragment.
The illusion charm shimmered, but the true text beneath glowed with a soft, verdant light—a
series of profound, intricate footwork diagrams and esoteric phrases.
[ Analyzing: Fragment of 'Verdant Breeze Scribe Step' (Earth Grade, Low-Tier - Incomplete) ]
Description: A lost movement technique of the Verdant Sword Saint. Focuses on imperceptible,
scribe-like precision and speed, perfect for calligraphy and... circumventing obstacles.
Flaws: Fragment is missing the final three stances. Corrected interpretation of available data
available.
Mastery Path: [Auto-Learn: 200 System Points]
Earth Grade! My breath hitched. Mortal, Earth, Heaven... an Earth Grade technique was a
treasure beyond measure for any disciple, let alone an outer one. And it was a movement
technique, perfectly complementing my [Ghostly Stride].
I committed every line, every character, every nuance of the Qi flow to my perfect, system-aided
memory. It took less than five seconds.
Su Jin was staring at the page, his knuckles white. He could see the illustration of the misty valley
I'd mentioned, but he saw nothing else. The illusion held for him. He scowled in frustration,
slamming the book shut.
"The story was mediocre," he said coldly, standing up. He shot me one last, unreadable look—a
mixture of disappointment and lingering suspicion—before returning the book to the shelf and
striding out of the archives.
The moment he was gone, the tension drained from the room. I slumped in my chair, a phantom
of relief.
"Are you alright, Brother Lin?" Xiao Lian asked, concerned. "He seemed... intense."
"I'm fine," I said, offering her a genuine smile now. "Some senior disciples are just very serious
about their studies."
And I, Lin Yun, the idle cultivator, had just stolen a fragment of an Earth Grade technique from
under the nose of a Peak Qi Gathering expert without ever touching the book. I had no points to
auto-learn it, but I had the complete, corrected data stored in my mind, ready for when I did.
The path of the phantom had yielded its first, glorious treasure. The Verdant Sword Saint's legacy
had found a new, and far more patient, heir.