My name is Li Yao, and I am going to die.
This wasn't a philosophical observation or a moment of enlightened despair. It was a simple, practical fact, as certain as the sun rising or the Jade Quill Sect's elders being pompous windbags. In my previous life as a librarian, death was an abstract concept found in dusty books. Here, it was a tangible presence, a constant companion with cold breath and a sharp sword.
Oh gods, oh dear heavens, I am so profoundly out of my depth. I just wanted to sort books by Dewey Decimal System, not get my spleen acquainted with a Spirit-forged longsword.
My current predicament was, to put it mildly, unfair. A freak encounter with a delivery truck had punted my soul from a quiet, climate-controlled library into the body of a 16-year-old outer sect disciple with the same name. This new Li Yao had the spiritual talent of a waterlogged brick and the social standing of a kicked dog.
Then, the System woke up.
It called itself the [Supreme Grandstanding System], and I was convinced it was a malevolent deity with a twisted sense of humor. Its one and only function was to force me, a pathologically polite man whose vocabulary was 50% "sorry," into acts of world-ending arrogance.
A translucent blue screen flickered before my eyes, visible only to me.
[Grandstanding Mandate Issued]
No. No, thank you. Please, not now. I was just on my way to clean the stables. It's a peaceful, honest job. I like the smell of hay. It's grounding.
[Target: Young Master Chen Wei]
My heart tried to escape my chest through my throat. Chen Wei? The son of the First Elder? The sect's number one prodigy? The walking embodiment of talent, wealth, and a punchable face?
He's going to kill me. He will kill me, grind my bones to dust, and use that dust to fertilize his personal spirit-herb garden. I'm going to become a fancy turnip. A dead fancy turnip.
The System paid my internal screaming no mind.
[Action: Approach Young Master Chen Wei during his public practice. Declare his family's treasured 'Azure Water Sword Art' as 'fit only for chopping firewood in a damp forest.']
I stopped breathing. The world swam. This wasn't a mandate; it was a lovingly-written suicide note. The Chen family's Azure Water Sword Art was the pride of the Jade Quill Sect. It was said to flow like a river and crash like a tsunami. Insulting it was like walking up to a king and telling him his crown looked like a misshapen bucket.
[Time Limit: 10 Minutes]
[Penalty for Failure: Spontaneous Combustion of the Spleen]
You can't do that! The spleen is important! I think! Is it? I never got that far in biology. OH GODS, IT SOUNDS IMPORTANT! Okay, okay, think. Loophole. Is there a loophole? Can I whisper it from a hundred meters away? Write it on a leaf and let the wind carry it?
I frantically scanned the mandate. The word 'publicly' was glowing with a faint, mocking light.
The System was airtight. It was a sadist.
My feet began to move against my will, dragging me toward the central training grounds. It was a horrifying sensation, like being a passenger in my own body as it marched toward a cliff.
The training grounds were buzzing with activity. Disciples in gray robes practiced their forms, their swords whistling through the air. And in the center of it all, holding court, was Chen Wei.
He was exactly as advertised. Dressed in fine blue silks that probably cost more than my entire previous life's apartment, he moved with a liquid grace. His sword, the famous 'Azure Wave,' left shimmering blue afterimages in the air. A crowd of fawning admirers surrounded the practice ring, gasping at every elegant strike.
"So powerful, Senior Brother Chen!"
"The Azure Water Art is truly profound in his hands!"
"He'll surely reach the Foundation Establishment realm before he's twenty!"
Among them, I saw Senior Sister Feng Qing. Her eyes were wide with genuine, unadulterated admiration. She was known for her earnestness and her belief in the sect's righteous path. Her hero-worship was practically a physical force.
She's going to see this. Everyone is going to see this. They're not just going to kill me, they're going to have a party afterward to celebrate my death.
My body stopped at the edge of the crowd. Two minutes left on the clock. My internal organs felt like they were vibrating at a hummingbird's frequency.
Okay. Politeness. Maybe I can phrase it politely? "Excuse me, esteemed Young Master Chen, my sincerest apologies for interrupting your magnificent display, but a thought has occurred to this worthless one. While your swordsmanship is undeniably sublime, might I humbly suggest that its practical applications could, under certain specific and damp conditions, be comparable to that of… forestry?"
No. The mandate was specific. The wording was absolute.
My body pushed through the crowd. The disciples parted, their expressions shifting from admiration for Chen Wei to confusion, then disdain, as they saw me. The talentless charity case. The sect's resident ghost.
Chen Wei finished a complex series of strikes with a flourish, the Azure Wave sword humming in his hand. He looked up, his brow furrowed in annoyance at my interruption.
"What is it?" he asked, his voice dripping with condescension.
This was it. The precipice. My final moments.
Externally, my expression went blank. The frantic terror within was sealed behind a mask of utter, profound stillness. My gaze fell upon his sword, then lifted to meet his eyes. My voice, when it came out, was not my own. It was a cold, flat, detached thing, as if a glacier had learned to speak.
"A minor truth," I stated.
The crowd murmured. Chen Wei's smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of confusion.
I gestured vaguely at his sword. The movement was stiff, economical. "That technique you practice with such pride."
A pause stretched, thick and heavy.
"It's fit only for chopping firewood in a damp forest."
I'M SO SORRY! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! IT WASN'T ME, IT WAS THE SPLEEN-HATING GOD IN MY HEAD! YOUR SWORD ART IS BEAUTIFUL, TRULY, TEN OUT OF TEN, WOULD BE SLAIN BY IT AGAIN! I'M BEGGING YOU, PLEASE DON'T BELIEVE ME!
Silence.
Absolute, pin-drop silence descended upon the training grounds. The only sound was the gentle breeze whistling past the motionless bodies of a hundred disciples. They stared, mouths agape, as if I had just sprouted a second head and declared the sky was green.
Senior Sister Feng Qing's adoring expression had frozen into one of pure, uncomprehending shock.
Chen Wei's face went through a spectacular series of transformations. First, blank confusion. Then, dawning disbelief. Then, a slow, creeping flush of red that started at his neck and consumed his entire face, turning it the color of a ripe tomato. His knuckles, gripping the hilt of Azure Wave, turned white.
"What… did you just say?" he hissed, the words ground out between clenched teeth.
But from the corner of the crowd, a different sound emerged. A sharp gasp. It was Feng Qing. Her look of shock was melting away, replaced by… dawning realization? Her eyes shone with a brilliant light, as if she was witnessing a miracle.
"He… he doesn't mean it as an insult," she whispered, loud enough for those nearby to hear. "He's not talking about the form, but the intent!"
What? No! No, I am one hundred percent insulting him! It is a pure, top-quality, A-grade insult! Please, for the love of all that is holy, accept it as such!
Feng Qing's voice grew more confident, her eyes locked on my deadpan face. "Don't you see? Firewood in a damp forest is stubborn, unyielding! It resists the blade! He's saying the Azure Water Sword Art, which is known for its fluidity, is being used too rigidly by Senior Brother Chen! It lacks adaptability! He's pointing out the core flaw in Senior Brother's application! This… this is a profound guidance!"
A ripple of understanding—a completely, utterly wrong understanding—spread through the crowd. Murmurs erupted.
"He's right! Chen Wei's form is perfect, but his killing intent is stiff!"
"So he wasn't insulting him, he was teaching him?"
"What a deep and enigmatic way to give a pointer!"
"Who is this Senior Brother? I've never seen such insight!"
NO! YOU ADORABLE, WELL-MEANING FOOLS! YOU ARE RUINING MY TIMELY DEMISE! HE'S SUPPOSED TO GET ANGRY! THE SYSTEM RUNS ON RAGE, NOT MISGUIDED ADMIRATION!
But my silent screams were drowned out. While the crowd was having its collective epiphany, Chen Wei was immune to their interpretation. He heard only the raw, unvarnished insult. His face had now progressed from red to a terrifying shade of purple. The spiritual energy around him began to boil.
"GUIDANCE?" he roared, the sound blasting across the training grounds and silencing the crowd. His eyes, burning with pure, homicidal fury, locked onto me. "You dare?! You, a piece of trash from the outer sect, dare to lecture me?"
YES! YES, THANK YOU! FINALLY, SOMEONE GETS IT! HEAR THAT, SYSTEM? PURE, UNFILTERED RAGE! TOP-SHELF FURY! PAY UP!
A notification chimed in my mind, a sweet, sweet sound.
[Target's Emotional State: Apopleptic Rage. Chaos conversion initiated.]
Chen Wei's body erupted in a torrent of blue energy. He lunged forward, his Azure Wave sword becoming a blur of cerulean light aimed directly at my heart.
"I'LL TEAR YOU TO PIECES!"
The sword was a hair's breadth from my chest. I couldn't move. My body was frozen. Internally, I was a symphony of terror.
I'M GOING TO DIE I'M GOING TO DIE I'M GOING TO DIE BUT AT LEAST MY SPLEEN IS SAFE I THINK THIS IS A WIN MAYBE?!
The world held its breath, waiting for the slaughter.
Author Notes: Keep reading 10-15 chapters, you will love it, please help this web novel in rankings by giving Power Stones & Golden Tickets as they will help me write more and not risk of being abandoned.