Li Yao perched lightly on a branch at the mountain's peak, her sharp eyes fixed on the distant figure of Xiang Yu. Her senior brother moved through the motions of his knife technique with an intensity she had never seen before. Something in him had changed since that morning—a change so abrupt that it left her both puzzled and concerned.
"Is he still unwell?" she whispered to herself, recalling his strange behavior from earlier. The senior brother she knew preferred lounging in the shade instead of sweating under the scorching sun. This newfound burst of dedication was as unexpected as it was fascinating.
Just as she shifted her weight and was prepared to leap down from her vantage point, an odd sensation overtook her—her feet no longer touched the branch. She was floating, suspended in the air. Dread crept over her as she turned her head slowly… only to find herself face-to-face with her master's stern gaze.
Elder Guo Shantian held her aloft by the collar of her robes like a misbehaving kitten.
"What are you doing, slacking off up here?" he barked, his thick, bushy eyebrows drawn together in irritation.
Li Yao's cheeks flushed crimson. "Master, I can explain—"
"No need!" the elder cut her off with a dismissive wave. "Go practice and stop bothering your senior brother." Without any further warning, he tossed her effortlessly into the sky, hurling her through the clouds.
"Wait! Master, I can't fly!" Her panicked cry echoed down the mountainside. But Elder Guo only lingered for a moment longer, watched Xiang Yu's training with a thoughtful expression, before vanishing in a blur of motion, leaving his female disciple to her airborne predicament.
Below, oblivious to the drama unfolding overhead, Xiang Yu swung his knife with grim focus. His arms burned from the fatigue, hands raw and blistered. Sweat poured down his face in rivulets, soaking his simple garments until they clung to his trembling frame. Each breath came in ragged gasps, and darkness edged at the corners of his vision.
The relentless sun blazed overhead, yet Xiang Yu refused to yield.
"If I want to survive in this world," he muttered through his clenched teeth, "I must earn every second I live."
Swing after swing, hour after hour, he continued his practice. Even as the sun began to dip down the horizon, painting the sky with golden-orange hues, signaling the day's end, he refused to stop. Though his muscles screamed for some rest, he kept pushing onward, unwilling to let go of the momentum he had fought so hard to build.
"Still no progress," he hissed, frustration bubbling beneath his exhaustion. But his blade didn't stop. It continued to slice through the cooling air as darkness slowly enveloped the mountain.
From a nearby tree, Li Yao had somehow returned—miraculously surviving her master's impromptu flying lesson—and resumed her quiet observation. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied her senior brother's unusual behavior.
"He's always been lazy," she thought, puzzled. "He would always avoid cultivation because of his lack of spiritual roots. What could have possibly happened to change him so dramatically?"
After watching him relentlessly practice for a while longer, she nodded to herself with newfound resolve. "If my Senior Brother can work this hard despite his limits, how can I possibly slack off?" With that thought, she silently slipped away, determined to resume her own cultivation regimen.
High atop the Mountain Heart Pavilion, Elder Guo Shantian observed his two disciples with silent approval. Li Yao, the undisputed genius prodigy of the sect, blessed with talent that appeared once in a generation, had always frittered away her invaluable potential and precious hours, which could have been devoted to cultivation. But now, inspired by her senior brother's unexpected dedication, she too had found a fresh drive.
The elder's gaze shifted back to Xiang Yu, curiosity flickering in his eyes. When he had handed the boy that Basic Knife Technique, he hadn't expected much—just a fleeting burst of enthusiasm that would fade away as soon as his progress slowed gradually.
But now, nearly a day later, here he was, still swinging his blade with undiminished fervor.
What struck the elder most, though, was the expression etched upon the young man's face. It wasn't mere determination—it was that of desperation. The expression someone would have after being absolutely certain that failing to execute one more swing might very well cost him his life.
"I don't know what's driving you, boy," Elder Guo murmured with a faint smile, "but whatever it is, it is serving you well. Even without spiritual roots… your path isn't at its end."
As twilight deepened into night, Xiang Yu pressed on, continuing his relentless practice, his movements sluggish but persistent—until suddenly, a faint, translucent blue screen materialized before his exhausted eyes:
[Calculating Settlement]
_____
The translucent blue screen pulsed softly in the darkness as Xiang Yu's exhausted eyes widened in wonder, while the heart in his chest pounded in anticipation:
[Calculation Complete]
[Basic Knife Technique: 2 (+2)]
[Experience Points Doubled]
[Basic Knife Technique: 2 → 4]
[Next Settlement: 23:59:59]
He stared at the glowing notification with a mixture of disbelief and exhilaration. It had actually worked!
His system had actually doubled his meager experience points, turning a day's worth of gruelling effort into something more substantial. Though the numerical increase seemed paltry—merely from 2 to 4—he could sense a tangible improvement in his understanding of the technique. The knife felt infinitesimally more natural and balanced in his grip, while the movements were a fraction smoother than before.
"Double of nothing is still nothing," he whispered to himself with a weary grin on his exhausted lips, "but double something…"
His aching body groaned in protest as he lowered himself to the ground, his back pressed against the cool earth beneath the training tree. Every muscle throbbed, every fiber screaming for relief. His hands were raw and blistered from gripping the practice knife's wooden hilt for a whole day. And yet, beneath all that pain, a fragile yet precious seed of hope stirred.
He had made progress—small, yes, but it was real. In a world where the weak perished without ceremony, even the slightest advancement meant another day of survival.
"That's enough for today," he murmured, his eyelids growing heavy. "If I don't rest properly, tomorrow's gains will suffer.
The tactical logic from his previous life as an office worker blended seamlessly with his newfound cultivation mindset. Efficiency was everything, whether it was in optimizing spreadsheets or in spiritual growth.
Sleep claimed him instantly, deep and dreamless.
The melodious chorus of morning birds roused Xiang Yu from unconsciousness, drawing him back to wakefulness, their calls a blend of melody and insistence. Some notes were harmonious and soothing, others shrill—nature's alarm clock, designed by evolution to stir even the deepest sleeper. Xiang Yu, however, didn't need such encouragement to begin his day.
He sat up with surprising alertness, momentarily disoriented by the firmness beneath him. Had he truly spent the entire night sleeping on the bare ground? The stiffness in his back confirmed it.
Blinking away the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes, he watched the sky's gentle gradient as darkness gave way to the pale promise of dawn.
"Must be around five in the morning," he estimated, mentally calculating that he'd slept barely five hours, but strangely enough, the bone-deep exhaustion that should have plagued him was notably absent. Instead, his body felt refreshed, rejuvenated in a way that defied his expectations.
His mind drifted back to the thought of his former life on Earth—how that one ill-fated attempt at fitness had left him so sore that he'd called in sick the following day. The memory felt almost comical now.
Clenching his fist experimentally, he felt surprising strength where there should have been weakness.
"Could it be… that I possess the legendary Saint Body?" A wide grin spread across his face before rational thought reasserted itself. "No, of course not!"
Rising to his feet with a long stretch, Xiang Yu guessed the cause: this world's ambient spiritual energy must be responsible for his accelerated recovery. Even without the ability to actively absorb the qi into his body, the mere presence of such a vast amount of energy in the atmosphere was sufficient to accelerate recovery and ease muscle fatigue.
"This is excellent," he thought, flexing his fingers in wonder. "I can push myself even harder today."
Though he had already successfully gained his first experience points—points that would now double daily thanks to his system—he refused to be content with these achievements. Actively practicing would compound his gains exponentially.
There would come a time when his progress might plateau, when any further effort would yield diminishing returns. Then, and only then, would he rely solely on his system's automatic doubling. But now, while improvement through effort remained possible, he wouldn't let go of any such opportunity.
Without hesitation, he retrieved his practice knife and resumed his drills. His movements, slightly more refined and precise than the day before, cut through the morning air.
_____
In his private chambers atop Mountain Heart Pavilion, Elder Guo Shantian's meditation was interrupted by the soft but unmistakable rhythm of blade practice echoing from below. The swish of a knife cutting through morning air reached his ears clearly, thanks to his sensitive ears.
"That brat!" he thought, a flicker of irritation passed through him before it gave way to bemused admiration.
The sun had barely risen, and yet Xiang Yu was already training with an intensity that disturbed the mountain's usual tranquility. While the elder had long transcended the need for regular sleep, he still cherished the quiet hours of early morning for contemplation and spiritual refinement.
For a moment, he considered descending from his pavilion to reprimand this overenthusiastic disciple of his. But instead, his hand reached to stroke his beard thoughtfully before he ultimately decided against intervention.
"Well," he mused, settling back into his meditation posture, "I'll let him have his moment of dedication. It's not as if he'll maintain this fervor every day… right?"