Quote of the Day: "If you can't measure it, you can't manage it. And if you can't manage it, you deserve to fail."
---
The single Spirit Stone felt heavy in Lin Feng's palm. It was a small, milky-white stone, smooth and cool to the touch, humming with a faint, internal energy. This was the currency of this world. The capital. His twelve stones were now eleven, invested in the Su Ling experiment. A high-risk venture into an unproven asset.
After she left, the silence of the teahouse was broken only by the faint, steady hum of the improved Qi-gathering formation. The air felt… cleaner. Lighter. The spiritual equivalent of fixing a leaking roof. It was a quantifiable improvement, and it soothed the part of his mind that demanded progress.
Elder Bai emerged from the kitchen, his expression a tangled knot of confusion and cautious hope. "Feng'er… the formation. It feels… stronger. How did you…?"
"Optimization," Lin Feng cut him off, slipping the remaining Spirit Stones into a small pouch at his waist. He had no time for explanations or praise. "The energy throughput was suboptimal. I corrected the primary bottleneck."
He walked over to the shelves holding their "inventory"—the common tea leaves and the seven wilting spiritual herbs. He picked up one of the herbs, a limp, grey-green leaf called a "Fading Mist Grass." The System interface obligingly provided a tooltip.
[Fading Mist Grass. Grade: Low. Quality: Poor. Qi Purity: 12%. Efficacy: Fading.]
Useless. It was a product nobody would buy. The entire inventory was a graveyard of failed expectations.
"The tea we serve," Lin Feng said, his voice devoid of inflection. "Describe the standard brewing process. Omit nothing."
Elder Bai, now thoroughly accustomed to this new, interrogative version of his grandson, launched into a detailed explanation. It was a ritual of mediocrity. Use the spirit kettle to heat water infused with the formation's weak Qi. Add a precise pinch of common tea leaves. Steep for the time it takes an incense stick to burn a quarter of the way. Serve.
It was a recipe for a product that was, at best, mildly refreshing. There was no Unique Selling Proposition. No competitive edge. It was the spiritual equivalent of tap water.
"The herbs," Lin Feng stated, gesturing to the dying plants. "They are meant to be the premium product. Why are they unsold?"
Elder Bai's shoulders slumped. "Their Qi is too weak, too impure. The great sects have their own herb gardens. The rogue cultivators who pass through Blue Spirit City can buy better from the Void-Severing Pavilion's stalls for only a few more stones. Our herbs… are an afterthought."
An afterthought. A commodity in a saturated market. Lin Feng's mind, a supercomputer for identifying market gaps, began to whir. They couldn't compete on quality. They couldn't compete on price. So, they had to compete on something else.
Experience. Data. Niche targeting.
"We are not selling tea," Lin Feng declared, turning to face his grandfather. "We are selling a service. A diagnostic service."
Elder Bai blinked. "A… what?"
"We have no capital for new inventory. Therefore, we use the inventory we have." Lin Feng picked up the Fading Mist Grass. "We will host a 'Qi-Infused Tea Tasting.' Free of charge."
"Free?!" Elder Bai looked aghast. "Feng'er, we cannot afford—"
"It is not a cost. It is a market research expense," Lin Feng corrected, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We will use the improved formation to brew three batches of tea. The standard common tea. The common tea with a single, fading herb infused. And a third batch, using only the barest essence of the best herb we have, diluted for safety."
He was creating a product ladder. A free sample to get customers in the door, with the goal of gathering priceless data on their preferences and, more importantly, identifying which customers had the potential to be valuable.
"The goal is not immediate profit," Lin Feng explained, his eyes glinting with a cold, analytical light. "The goal is to gather information. We will observe their reactions. We will note which brew they prefer. We will listen to their conversations. We will identify the cultivators who are perceptive enough to notice the subtle difference in Qi, yet not so wealthy that they are locked into the Void-Severing Pavilion's ecosystem."
It was a strategy for targeting the lower-middle segment of the market—the aspiring cultivators and low-level disciples who had some disposable income but were overlooked by the major powers. They were the most numerous, and their loyalty, once won, could be a powerful asset.
Elder Bai was silent for a long moment, processing. The plan was audacious, alien, and completely contrary to centuries of cultivation tradition. But the sheer, cold logic of it was undeniable. "And… what is my role?"
"You will brew the tea," Lin Feng said. "Your presence lends an air of authenticity. Of tradition. I will observe."
He didn't add that his own presence, with his cold demeanor and unfamiliarity with the customers, would likely be a liability in this initial phase.
The rest of the morning was spent in frantic, minimalist preparation. Lin Feng used a small, sharp knife to shave minuscule slivers from their best herb, a "Sturdy Root," conserving every grain. He calculated the optimal water temperature by having Elder Bai channel Qi into the kettle at different intensities, using his [Meridian Sight] to observe the resulting energy infusion. He was building a dataset.
By midday, they were ready. Lin Feng had even used a piece of charcoal to inscribe a simple sign on a scrap of wood: "Qi-Tasting. Refine Your Senses. No Cost." He propped it outside the door.
For the first hour, nothing. Cultivators passed by, their eyes sliding over the sign and the dilapidated teahouse with disinterest or pity.
Then, a young man in slightly patched robes, a low-level disciple from a minor sect, hesitated. The word "Free" was a universal attractant.
"Is this… true?" he asked, peering inside.
"Your perception will confirm it," Lin Feng said from his position in the corner, not moving from his stool. "Elder Bai."
Elder Bai, with a practiced grace that spoke of better days, performed the brewing ritual. The disciple drank the first cup of common tea. "Refreshing," he nodded politely.
He drank the second, the one with the Fading Mist Grass. His brow furrowed slightly. "There's… a faint coolness. But it's gone too quickly."
Finally, he drank the third, the diluted Sturdy Root essence. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "This one… there's a solidity. A hint of something that could stabilize the dantian." He looked at Elder Bai with new respect. "Your tea has improved, Elder."
[Karma Score Increased!]
[Trait 'Aesthetic Appreciation' has been acknowledged (via customer).]
[Trait 'Visionary Outlook' has been acknowledged.]
[Dao Heart Stability: 15/100.]
The notification was subtle, but the reward was another trickle of stable, pure Qi into his dantian. The System was rewarding him for creating a genuine, positive experience, even if his own motives were purely analytical.
The disciple left, offering a sincere word of thanks. He didn't buy anything, but he was a data point. A successful one.
Over the next few hours, a trickle of curious cultivators followed. Lin Feng sat silently, a predator in the shadows, observing. He noted which cultivators could truly taste the difference. He saw the ones who were merely there for a free drink, and the ones whose eyes lingered on the herb shelves with a calculating glint.
Then, she arrived.
Her robes were of a finer cut, a deep azure blue, and she moved with an unconscious grace that spoke of good training and a solid foundation. She was accompanied by a younger, chattier female disciple.
"...I told you, Senior Sister Chu, this place is a relic. The Qi is thin," the younger one whispered, not quietly enough.
The woman, Chu Yue, ignored her. Her sharp, intelligent eyes scanned the room, missing nothing. They flickered over the improved formation lines on the floor, lingered on Elder Bai's practiced movements, and finally settled on Lin Feng, sitting silently in the corner. Her gaze was assessing, devoid of the pity or disdain the others had shown. It was the look of one professional recognizing another, even in an unexpected place.
She participated in the tasting, her reactions minimal but precise. A slight nod for the third brew. She didn't offer thanks or praise. She simply finished her cup, placed it down, and her eyes met Lin Feng's across the room.
"There is a new efficiency here," she said, her voice calm and clear. "The Qi flow is less… chaotic. An interesting development for a failing establishment."
She didn't wait for a response. She turned and left, her junior disciple scurrying after her.
Lin Feng's mind was already cataloging her. Chu Yue. A potential threat. A high-value customer. A source of significant Capital… or a source of catastrophic Karma loss if mishandled. She was an equation he needed to solve.
As the day wound down, Lin Feng reviewed the data. They had served seventeen cultivators. Three had shown genuine interest in the potential of the herbs. One had asked about the price of the Sturdy Root. They had spent zero Spirit Stones and gained invaluable market intelligence.
And then, as the last customer left, the System delivered its verdict.
[Daily Summary:]
[Capital Activity: Net Gain: 0 Spirit Stones.]
[Karma Activity: Net Gain: +5.]
[Primary Quest Progress: Capital (12/1000). Karma (15/100).]
[New Passive Unlocked: 'Customer Insight' (Basic). Host can now intuitively gauge a customer's potential value and sincerity.]
A net gain of zero Capital, but a tangible increase in Karma and a new, useful skill. The System was fundamentally changing his definition of a "successful day." He had built nothing, sold nothing, yet he had progressed.
He looked at the twelve Spirit Stones in his pouch. Then he looked at the weary but quietly hopeful face of Elder Bai, who was carefully cleaning the cups.
The Minimum Viable Product wasn't the tea. It was the teahouse itself. And today, they had launched their first beta test.
The path to ascension, it seemed, was paved with free samples.