Luo Feng felt the sudden, almost abrupt sensation of change trailing through his body the moment that his eyes opened.
There was a lightness there now that had not been before. His limbs, once so stubbornly heavy, felt weightless, and that constriction that had long plagued the center of his chest, each breath a tight and shallow thing, had disappeared.
And when he raised himself from the bed, it was not an awkward or labored process, but simply an easy and efficient one, as though his body was no longer resisting the pull of gravity or the weight of what it was doing. There was a sense of finality about the placement of his feet upon the floor that had not been present before, and that tremor that had long dogged his steps was nowhere to be found.
For an instant, he merely stood there, listening to the silence that filled the room.
He knew the days when the mere act of walking across the courtyard in his own home had meant a concerted effort on his part, as if his body were a delicate vase hovering on the verge of breaking under the slightest strain. But the energy radiating through him, the undercurrent which spoke more of power than weakness, defied all such associations.
Take a few tentative steps forward. One step, then another. Each step is deliberate but without pause. Nothing now to deal with in the way of dizziness or muscle strain or rushes of breathing or pounding in his ears.
His brow furrowed just enough to signal a note of caution, but the expression had a new edge of curiosity underlying it.
To be sure that this was reality and not some ploy of his imagination, he reached for the wooden cup that was sitting on the table beside him. It was just an ordinary article, nothing at all remarkable about it. He placed his fingers around it and started to press on it with gradually increasing pressure.
The resistance faltered for an instant, then surrendered. The cup buckled under his grasp, the wood failing as if the cup had been shaped from damp earth, not solid wood.
Chunks splintered with a gentle sound, falling to settle in a puddled mess near his fingers, the wood fragmenting into tiny bits, settling on the tabletop.
Luo Feng gazed at the broken cup, his expression one of utter shock.
For an instant, a plausible explanation swam up into his mind, as if his body had been healing all along and this was simply a culmination of his regression to his former state, his former self being weakened somehow by an unseen force, and this current moment simply being a moment of returning to normal after that strange illness.
But the system existed.
This cold, silent panel that was ever-present in the corners of his awareness made it impossible for him to ignore the timing. His strength had not come back incrementally; instead, it had come back overnight, without warning or any kind of exertion on his part.
This realization cast a shadow on his thoughts, clouding his mood ever so slightly.
But then another thought emerged, unexpected, and highly risky, and he felt a spark of excitement flash within him.
Was it perhaps that he actually felt something more than that return of his own strength, something related instead to the process of Huang Lei's cultivation?
The thought was extremely alluring, and his breathing quickened slightly, his muscles automatically clenching around the shattered pieces in his hand before he deliberately loosened them once more.
In his former life, he had devoured numerous pieces of fiction, tales of heroes gaining success with minimal effort, residing upon summits while the rest of the populace exhausted itself below. Some systems paid simply for existing, for simply breathing, without any need for doing. There was also power gained solely through waiting. Who wouldn't want that?
If the binding truly enabled him to join in the process of another's cultivation, no matter how small, the possibilities were chilling.
He would not have to fight. He would not have to rely on talent. He would not even have to take risks. He could simply exist, riding the currents on the power of others.
The idea was intoxicating, and for a brief moment, he savored its sweetness with almost reckless abandon.
But just as the excitement was kindled, Luo Feng suppressed the urge to pursue it. Blind optimism was a bad travelling companion in any case, more treacherous than despair itself. It was already known that the system did not explain itself in the open or readily.
Gradually, he sat back in the chair, with pieces of the broken cup still lying on the table before him. His system was so simple, so bare, that it consisted of nothing more than one bound being, one fuzzy notion of value called karma, and nothing else.
He did not know how many beings he could bind, or if the binding was by consent, proximity, fate, or simple chance. He did not know what criteria his system applied, either.
Huang Lei had triggered it. This much is certain. But why him? Due to talent, fate, or prospects? These are only questions Luo Feng could only guess.
One part of his mind wanted to leave the mansion of the Luo family and look for the truth. Perhaps to find out what the system required. He thought that since exposure to society was what he required for his development as a character, going outside might very well facilitate this.
The idea, however, did not linger. He knew enough stories to know that a young, helpless lord, venturing out from beneath the shelter of his family, was no honor, only a recipe for disaster. Even without outright animosity, there would always be those whose purpose was served by tying up loose ends.
He had no breeding, he had no influence behind him, he had no value. This made him threatening only in that he had no one who would feel guilty about disposing of him.
Perhaps there was no hunter actively tracking him, and perhaps he was already being far too prudent. Still, Luo Feng had no plans to bet his life on untested hypotheses. For now, at least, he was content to remain within the realm of safety offered by the mansion.
His thoughts wandered outwards, picking up the faint sounds that drifted towards his courtyard: footsteps, voices, movement; sounds that did not normally pass so frequently through this section of the estate.
The name Luo Yuexi echoed through his mind.
Very soon, she would be off to the Cloud Verdant Sect. Even Luo Feng, who was rarely noticed, would not be able to ignore the ripple that this development was bound to cause within the household.
The entire Luo family mansion seemed alive with anticipation. It was an extensive and complex property that was much more than a house, as outsiders would think of it.
It was a complex of courtyards, halls, and walkways that spread well past what outsiders could conceive. Each generation had its own courtyard that led into rooms and areas that further defined individual territories.
The courtyard where Luo Feng lived was no different, although it seemed to be the least preferred among them. However, getting around the manor was no easy task, and the speed of daily activities seemed exceptionally quick today.
The relatives of the family members were already starting to pour in, thanks to lineage, opportunity, or simple curiosity. People from Luo Yuexi's family were eager to show goodwill, whereas the others were simply trying to gain favor in the hopes of forming connections before the departure.
Some guests came from outside the family, all contributing to the noise, crowd, and commotion that Luo Feng did not want to be part of. Luo Feng chose to sit down and observe from a detached point of view as the mansion became livelier by the hour.
His own courtyard was not as quiet as the others, though the increasing commotion that filled the estate did not totally stay out.