The oil lamp in my new private room flickered for the third time in the last two hours. It was 3:47 AM according to my internal time estimate, and I was still awake with Foundations of Spiritual Cultivation: A Beginner's Guide open on my lap.
I had spent the entire night reading. The content was fascinating in a way I hadn't experienced since my days studying business models. Cultivation, as I discovered, was essentially the process of biological optimization taken to its extreme logical conclusion. Cultivators absorbed energy from the environment, called Qi, and refined it within their bodies through specific techniques. With enough time and practice, they could reach levels of power that defied natural laws.
Extended longevity. Some cultivators live for hundreds of years. The most powerful achieve literal immortality.
It was the equivalent of completely overcoming the planned obsolescence of the human body. But the most fascinating part was the level system. Cultivators progressed through clearly defined stages:
Body Refinement: The foundation. Strengthening the physical body so it could contain Qi without disintegrating. Divided into nine levels. Most common people never moved past the third level.
Foundation Establishment: Creating a "core" of Qi within the body. This was the true entry into the world of cultivation. The blue-trimmed disciples were here, struggling to consolidate their bases.
Golden Core: The Qi condensed into a solid core. This is where cultivators began to manifest truly supernatural powers. The green-trimmed disciples were likely at this stage.
There were more stages afterward, but the book became vague on the details: Soul Formation, Divine Transformation... names that sounded impressive but lacked specific technical information.
Information classified. Typical. The upper levels always retain critical knowledge.
What remained clear was the potential. Cultivators in advanced stages could destroy mountains, fly unaided, live for millennia, and essentially function as man-sized weapons of mass destruction.
I closed the first book and opened Anatomy of the Meridians: Basic Theory. This one was more technical and considerably denser. Meridians were channels within the body through which Qi flowed. There were twelve primary meridians and eight extraordinary ones. Each connected to specific organs and had particular functions.
The diagram on page 34 showed the complete network. It looked uncannily like a map of the circulatory system, only more complex.
The entire human body redesigned as an energy distribution network. Brilliant.
But there was a critical problem the book mentioned repeatedly: meridians could become blocked. Physical impurities, toxins, injuries, and even negative emotional states could obstruct the flow of Qi. And a blocked meridian slowed cultivation progress exponentially.
A bottleneck in the supply chain. The most common problem in any distribution system.
I read about meridian opening techniques, purification methods, and the risks of forcing Qi through obstructed channels. The consensus was clear: patience and correct technique trumped brute force.
When I finally closed the second book, the first light of dawn was filtering through my window. I had absorbed approximately two hundred pages of information in six hours. It wasn't my personal record, but it was respectable considering the subject was entirely new. I stretched, feeling my joints pop. This body was still weak and malnourished, but it was no longer the walking disaster it had been a month ago.
I washed my face, put on my gray servant's uniform, and headed toward the Silent Bamboo Pavilion. The path was empty at this early hour; only the rustle of the bamboo and the occasional birdsong broke the silence. When I arrived at the pavilion, Liling was already awake. I found her in the kitchen, organizing ingredients for breakfast. She wore the same maid uniform as yesterday, her hair perfectly done up, and a smile that seemed far too cheerful for five in the morning.
"Good morning, Kenji," she greeted me with that warm tone I was beginning to recognize as her default state. "You're early. That's good. The Mistress appreciates punctuality."
"Good morning, Liling. How can I help?"
"You can start by heating the water for the tea. The temperature must be exactly..." She stopped, studying me with her large, expressive eyes. "Did you sleep last night?"
Observant. She noticed the dark circles immediately.
"I read the books you lent me," I admitted. "I lost track of time."
Liling's expression transformed from concern to genuine delight.
"You read both books? The whole thing?"
"Most of them. Approximately eighty percent of the content."
"In one night..." She set down the knife she was holding and crossed her arms, which again created that unintentionally provocative effect that seemed to follow her like a shadow. "Kenji, that's... did you actually understand what you read, or did you just flip the pages?"
"I understood the fundamental concepts. The meridians function as energy distribution channels. Qi is the resource that is refined and circulated. Cultivation is the process of optimizing this internal biological system."
Liling looked at me with a mixture of surprise and something that might have been respect.
"I've never heard anyone describe cultivation like that. But... technically, it's correct." She laughed softly. "Wait until I tell the Mistress. She's going to be surprised."
We worked together preparing breakfast for the next hour. Liling was a patient instructor; she corrected my mistakes with humor instead of irritation. She taught me how to slice fish at specific angles that respected the texture of the meat, how to prepare rice with the exact amount of water to achieve the consistency Xiao Yue preferred, and how to arrange the breakfast elements following principles she called "visual harmony."
"The Mistress says that the presentation of the food affects its taste," Liling explained as she adjusted the position of a plate of pickled vegetables. "If something looks messy, it tastes messy."
"Sensory psychology applied to gastronomy," I commented. "It makes sense. Perception influences the experience."
"Exactly." Liling smiled. "See, this is what I like about you. You understand things without me having to explain them three times."
"I have experience processing complex information."
"Where did you get that experience? For a servant without formal education, you speak and think in a very... how should I put it? Erudite manner?"
It was a legitimate question. I decided to offer a partial truth.
"I had a mentor. Someone who valued systematic thinking."
"A mentor? Here in the clan?"
"No. In my previous life." The words slipped out before I could filter them properly.
Liling tilted her head, curious but not pushy.
"Your previous life. Before you became a servant?"
"Something like that."
She studied me for a long moment, then nodded as if she had reached an internal conclusion.
"We all have secrets, I suppose. As long as you don't hurt the Mistress, your secrets are your own."
"I have no intention of hurting her."
"Good." Liling returned to her tasks. "Because if you did, I'd have to kill you. And I like you, so I'd rather avoid that."
She said it with a tone so casual and cheerful that it took me two full seconds to process the words.
"Kill me?"
"Mmm-hmm." Liling was cutting vegetables with movements that suddenly seemed considerably more precise and dangerous. "Did you think I was just a maid?"
This is unexpected... Is she a cultivator?
"Honestly, yes."
She laughed sweetly.
"The late Madam rescued me from the streets, that's true. But before I became Lady Xiao Yue's personal maid, she trained me: combat techniques, poisons, infiltration, high-level protection. Officially, I am her domestic assistant. Unofficially, I am her bodyguard."
Liling stopped and looked at me directly; her expression was still warm, but now it had an edge I hadn't noticed before.
"So when I say I'd have to kill you if you hurt the Mistress, it's not a dramatic expression. It's a statement of fact."
I processed this information. Liling, the cheerful woman who chatted about everything, who laughed easily and treated everyone with genuine kindness, was a trained assassin. It made perfect sense from a security perspective. Xiao Yue was the daughter of the Clan Master, ignored by her family but technically valuable. An internal threat was more likely than an external one. She needed protection that didn't look like protection.
"I understand," I said finally. "And I appreciate the honesty."
"Well, I couldn't let you find out the hard way." Liling returned to her default state of cheerfulness. "Besides, I trust you. The Mistress trusts you. I just wanted to make sure you understood the rules of the game."
We finished preparing breakfast and carried the tray to Xiao Yue's private dining room. But before entering, Liling stopped me.
"The Mistress is training in her private courtyard. We can see her from the side window if we're discreet."
"Why would we want to watch her train?"
"Because you need to understand who she is. And the Mistress is more herself when she trains than at any other time."
I followed Liling through a side hallway to a window with bamboo blinds. From here, we could see a small training courtyard surrounded by high walls. And in the center, Xiao Yue.
She was in a basic cultivation posture I recognized from the book. Legs shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, back straight, hands in a mudra position in front of her chest. Her red hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. She wore simple training clothes: tight black pants and a white cloth band wrapping her chest.
But what truly captured my attention was her expression. Her golden eyes were closed, her face perfectly serene. To anyone watching casually, she would look like the image of meditative concentration. But I had spent decades reading body language in boardrooms. I knew how to recognize the tension hidden behind a professional mask.
Her jawline was too tight. The muscles in her neck showed a subtle rigidity. Her hands, forming the mudra, trembled almost imperceptibly every fifteen seconds.
Contained frustration. Likely over a plateau in her progress.
"Do you see what I see?" Liling whispered at my side.
"She's struggling."
"Yes." Liling's voice lost its usual cheer. "The Mistress has been stuck at the sixth level of Foundation Establishment for almost a year. She can't advance to the seventh. No matter how much she trains, how much she studies, or how much she exerts herself. Her progress just... stopped."
I looked closer. Xiao Yue opened her eyes, let out an almost inaudible sigh, and changed her posture. This time it was a sequence of fluid movements, a martial form involving high kicks and precise strikes. Her technique was impeccable. Every movement was executed with a precision that spoke of thousands of repetitions. But...
Excessive expenditure in movement.
I wasn't an expert in martial arts or cultivation, but I had spent the night reading about fundamentals. And the fundamentals were clear: efficient movement conserved energy. Qi should flow naturally with the body, not against it. Xiao Yue was forcing the movements. Her form was perfect, but there was a rigidity in her transitions.
"Has anyone ever supervised her?" I asked in a low voice.
"Not since the Madam died," Liling replied sadly. "The Elders don't offer her instruction. Her brothers certainly don't. The Clan Master is too deep in his grief to notice her. She learns everything from books and solitary practice."
This is bad. A guarantee for the development of bad habits and blind spots.
Xiao Yue completed the form and stopped, breathing a bit harder. For a moment, just a moment, her mask fell. I saw pure frustration cross her face. She closed her eyes tightly, as if fighting back tears she refused to shed. Then, in a second, the mask returned. The cold indifference, the glacial serenity. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and walked toward the pavilion.
"She's coming this way," Liling said quickly. "We have to serve breakfast."
We hurried back to the dining room. By the time Xiao Yue entered, clean and dressed in her usual robes, everything was perfectly arranged. I made my bow, kept my eyes respectfully low, and waited.
"Proceed," Xiao Yue said, her voice reclaiming its cold and controlled tone.
Liling and I served in silence. But this time, as I placed the teacup, Xiao Yue spoke.
"Liling says you read both books in one night."
It was direct.
"Yes, Mistress."
"And did you understand them?"
"I understood the fundamental concepts. Practical application likely requires more study."
Xiao Yue took a sip of her tea, evaluating me with those golden eyes.
"Explain the meridian system to me."
Another test. This woman doesn't trust easily. It made sense after years of neglect and implicit betrayal.
"Meridians are channels within the body that transport Qi," I began, keeping my tone professional but not pedantic. "There are twelve primary ones and eight extraordinary ones. The primary ones connect to specific organs. The extraordinary ones serve as reservoirs and emergency routes. Optimal Qi flow requires all meridians to be clear and balanced. Blockages cause stagnation in cultivation."
Silence. Xiao Yue watched me for three full seconds.
"Simplified, but technically correct." She took another sip. "And what causes blockages?"
"Physical toxins, impurities in the body, injuries not healed properly, and..." I hesitated, "sustained emotional disturbances."
The last point was delicate. The book had been clear: negative emotions like anger, fear, and grief could manifest as physical blockages. But mentioning this to someone who obviously carried significant emotional trauma was risky. Xiao Yue didn't react visibly, but I noticed her fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around the cup.
"I see. You studied appropriately." She returned her attention to her food. "You may leave."
I bowed and walked out with Liling. Once outside in the hallway, she smiled at me.
"You did well. The Mistress doesn't test people unless she's interested."
"Interested?"
"In whether you're worth keeping around. The other assistants failed that test in various ways."
We spent the rest of the morning working together. Liling was incredibly talkative.
"Once, when she was twelve, the Young Mistress found a blue-trimmed disciple kicking a servant for spilling tea," Liling related as we cleaned the kitchen. "Do you know what she did?"
"Reported him to a supervisor?"
"No. She broke his nose." Liling laughed at my expression. "Dead serious. She walked right up to him and punched him. The disciple was four years older and in Foundation Establishment. It didn't matter. The Mistress said that no one under her roof would mistreat the servants."
"And the consequences?"
"The disciple was expelled from the clan. The former Madam supported the Young Mistress completely." Liling's voice softened. "After the Madam died, it was as if the Young Mistress ceased to exist for the Sect Master."
"That is..." I paused, looking for words that didn't sound like pity. "Stupid. Ignoring a valuable asset for emotional reasons is poor resource management."
Liling looked at me with that expression between amusement and surprise that was becoming familiar.
"Kenji, only you would describe family abandonment as 'poor resource management'."
"It is objectively true."
"It is. But the way you say it..." She shook her head, smiling. "You're unique, definitely."
After lunch, I had a moment of free time. Liling suggested I use the pavilion's small library to continue studying. I sat down with paper and an ink brush. There was a problem. Several, actually. And I was good at identifying problems.
Problem One: Xiao Yue is plateaued. One year without progress.
Problem Two: Her technique shows energy expenditure inefficiencies.
Problem Three: Lack of external supervision (blind spots).
Problem Four: Her diet is not optimized for the needs of an active cultivator.
This last point was the most interesting. Xiao Yue ate like a noble, not like a cultivator. Her breakfast was refined, but not designed to support Qi circulation.
An opportunity for value-added service.
I began writing an analysis of her current diet and a list of potential modifications. Then, a basic outline of the inefficiencies in her training. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was a starting point.
"What are you writing?"
The voice startled me. Liling was at the door.
"Notes and observations."
"About what?"
I hesitated. But Liling had been honest about being an assassin; I owed her honesty in return.
"About the Mistress's plateau and the factors that might be contributing to it."
Liling's eyes widened.
"Kenji, you've been here two days. You read two introductory books and you think you can identify why the Mistress is stuck?"
"No. I think I can identify external factors that someone immersed in the situation might overlook."
Liling sat across from me.
"Show me."
I passed her the sheets. She read in silence, her skepticism transforming into genuine interest.
"These points about her diet... I never thought of that," she said finally. "It's true, they're giving her the diet of a noble lady."
"And the observations about her training?" I asked.
"Did you really notice all this from watching her briefly?"
"Her form is perfect, but she wastes energy in the transitions."
Liling studied me for a long moment.
"Do you know what will happen if you show her this? She'll fire you for being presumptuous. The Mistress is proud. If she feels a two-day servant is trying to correct her, she'll get defensive. Implement the changes gradually. Adjust her diet without her noticing. As for the training... let me think of something."
That night, after dinner, Xiao Yue spoke to me first.
"Liling says you spent the afternoon studying. And writing?"
Liling told her. Interesting.
"Yes, Mistress. Taking notes on what I'm learning."
"Do you find the material interesting?"
"Fascinating. The concept of systematic biological optimization is elegant."
Something changed in her expression.
"Systematic biological optimization... An unusual description."
"It is what it is, Mistress."
"I suppose so." She took a sip of tea. "You may borrow another book. The third one on the top shelf; it deals with the relationship between nutrition and Qi."
My heart raced slightly. She was giving me exactly what I needed.
"Thank you, Mistress. I will study it carefully."
"I see that you will. Kenji," she stopped me before I could leave, "Liling trusts you. That is rare. I don't trust easily either, but I am willing to observe if you deserve that trust."
"I will do my best to prove it."
I left the dining room and found Liling waiting. She had a knowing smile.
"She definitely likes you," she whispered. "Tomorrow, let's start the changes. Together. You have the ideas, I have the access. We'll help the Mistress without her feeling like she's being corrected."
"Why are you helping me?"
Liling turned serious.
"Because the Young Mistress is breaking in silence. And you're the first person in years who has looked at her and seen a problem to solve, rather than a victim to pity. That is exactly what she needs."
I went back to my room. I didn't read all night; I slept. Because tomorrow the real work would begin: the optimization of the most valuable asset in the Silent Bamboo Pavilion.