The next week was a blur of dual pursuits. By day, she was Ye Xia, the soon-to-be graduate, calmly dominating practice exams. By night, she was a novice cultivator, spending hours in meditation, patiently nurturing the tiny spark of Kai in her Dantian.
The effects, while subtle, were undeniable. She found she needed less sleep. The lingering fatigue from her years of poor health vanished entirely. Her senses sharpened; she could hear conversations from across the street, see the individual pixels on her high-resolution monitor. When she reviewed complex financial data, her mind processed it with a new, effortless speed. The Body Refinement stage was, as the name suggested, refining her vessel.
She used the system's massive daily quota to continue generating Kai, converting 5 million RMB every day into 5 units of the energy. She poured this energy into her body, following the primer's guidance to circulate it through her meridians. It was a slow, meticulous process, like forging steel one molecule at a time.
Mo noticed the change in their video calls. "You look… different," he remarked one evening, his analytical gaze missing nothing. "There's a new stillness about you. A focus. Is everything alright?"
"Everything is fine," Ye Xia said, offering a small smile. She wasn't ready to tell him about cultivation. Their bond was strong, but this was too new, too personal, and too strange. "I've just been meditating. It helps with the stress."
"Meditation," Mo repeated, a flicker of interest in his eyes. "The Mo family has ancient practices for mental discipline. Perhaps our paths are not so different after all."
His comment sent a jolt through her. Ancient practices. Was he hinting that the Mo family knew of cultivation? It seemed increasingly likely that these hidden families guarded more than just financial secrets.
The peaceful rhythm of her new routine was shattered on a rainy Friday night. She was walking home from a late study session at the library, enjoying the cool mist against her face, her senses expanded by her cultivation. She was alert, aware of the sound of every car, the footsteps of every passerby.
Which is why she noticed the man following her.
He moved with an unnatural silence, his presence a void in the ambient noise of the city. He wasn't a thug like the ones in the alley with Mo. This man was something else. He carried himself with a coiled grace, his energy contained and potent. To her newly awakened senses, he felt like a predator.
Ye Xia quickened her pace, turning down a side street that led to a well-lit main road. She heard his footsteps accelerate, matching her speed effortlessly. She broke into a run.
In an instant, he was in front of her. He hadn't run; he had simply appeared, his movement a blur. He was a man of average height, with a lean, wiry build and cold, empty eyes.
"The item," he said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Give it to me, and this will be painless."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ye Xia said, her heart hammering against her ribs. She fell into a basic defensive stance Silas had taught her, but it felt hopelessly inadequate.
"The key," the man insisted. "From Zurich."
He knew about the safety deposit box. This wasn't a random mugging. This was targeted.
Without another word, he struck. His hand moved like a snake, aiming for her throat. Ye Xia reacted on instinct, fueled by a surge of adrenaline and the faint trickle of Kai in her veins. She twisted aside, the movement faster and more fluid than should have been possible. His fingertips grazed her neck, and a jolt of numbing cold shot through her.
She gasped, stumbling back. The man's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Interesting. You have a spark."
He attacked again, this time with a series of open-palm strikes. Ye Xia blocked and dodged, but she was utterly outclassed. Every block sent shocks of pain up her arms. His movements were efficient, brutal, and infused with a power she recognized—it was Kai, but far denser and more controlled than her own meager supply.
A palm strike connected with her chest, not with full force, but enough to lift her off her feet and send her crashing into a brick wall. The air exploded from her lungs. Stars danced in her vision. She felt a rib crack.
The man stood over her, his expression still bored. "A wasted spark. Pity."
He raised his hand for a final, decisive blow. Ye Xia, drowning in pain and fear, did the only thing she could think of. She focused every ounce of her will, every bit of the Kai she had painstakingly gathered, and pushed it outwards in a raw, uncontrolled burst.
A visible wave of distorted air erupted from her, striking the man in the chest. It wasn't powerful, but it was unexpected. He grunted, stumbling back a single step, his bored expression finally shifting to one of genuine shock.
It was the opening she needed. A car turned onto the street, its headlights illuminating the scene. The man glanced at the car, then back at Ye Xia, his eyes narrowed. With a sound of disgust, he turned and melted into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as he had come.
Ye Xia slumped against the wall, clutching her chest, gasping for air. She had survived. But she had been shown, in the most brutal way possible, that there were players in this game who operated on a level she had only just begun to comprehend.