The attack was a watershed moment. Ye Xia's focus shifted irrevocably. The Gaokao, her business empire, even her vendetta against Liang Rui—all of it faded into the background. Survival was now synonymous with gaining cultivator strength.
She poured all her resources into it. Her daily routine became a brutal regimen. She still attended school, a necessary camouflage, but every other waking moment was dedicated to cultivation.
Mornings began before dawn with intense physical training under Silas's supervision. He incorporated techniques he'd learned from special forces units, pushing her body to its absolute limit. Then came meditation, where she would spend hours circulating the Kai generated by the system, refining it, forcing it through her meridians to cleanse and strengthen them. The pain was excruciating; it felt like pushing molten lead through her veins. But with each session, the flow became slightly easier, the Kai denser.
The system was her greatest advantage. While other cultivators might spend decades gathering minute amounts of energy from the environment, she could generate Kai through sheer financial power. She started converting her entire daily wasting quota of 10 million RMB into 10 units of Kai. It was an insane expenditure, but the returns were tangible.
Within a week, her cracked rib was fully healed, the bone knitted together stronger than before. Her body hardened, her muscles becoming defined and dense. She could run for miles without tiring, shatter bricks with her bare hands, and her reflexes were now superhuman. She was solidifying her foundation in the Body Refinement stage at an unprecedented rate.
She also used the system's funds to acquire ancient texts on martial arts and energy work from the black market. Most were useless, the ravings of mystics, but a few contained fragments of truth that helped her understand the principles behind the Cultivation Primer.
Mo noticed the drastic change in her. During their calls, she was often distracted, her eyes holding a new, sharp intensity.
"You're training," he stated during one call, not asking. "Not just meditation. Something more."
There was no point in hiding it anymore. "I was attacked," she said flatly. "By a man who moved like you, but… more. He used a kind of energy. He called it having a 'spark'."
Mo's face went still. "Describe him."
She did. The cold eyes, the effortless speed, the paralyzing touch.
Mo was silent for a long time. "That aligns with the stories of the Hua family. They are… enforcers. Mercenaries for the ancient clans. If they were hired, it means you have been officially marked by someone powerful."
"The Hua family," Ye Xia repeated, storing the name. "Do you know how to fight them?"
"My knowledge is theoretical," Mo admitted. "The Mo family's arts are internal, focused on mental expansion and longevity. We are strategists, not warriors. But I may know someone who can help."
He was offering another piece of himself, another connection to his hidden world.
"Who?" Ye Xia asked.
"An old friend of my mother's. A woman who left the structured world of the clans. She lives in seclusion. She might be willing to teach you. But it will be dangerous. Training with her is said to break more people than it makes."
Ye Xia didn't hesitate. "Set up the meeting."
She had tasted the power of the unseen world. There was no going back. The path of the heiress was now the path of the cultivator. And she would walk it, no matter the cost.