Yan Xuan tested the system the same way he tested everything else.
Carefully.
He did not summon it immediately when he woke. He washed, ate, and completed his morning duties first. Only when his body settled into its familiar rhythm did he pause behind the outer training grounds, where the stone wall cut off most sound.
He focused.
The world sharpened.
The translucent overlay surfaced without resistance—clean, silent, waiting.
Body Tempering: Early Stage
Structural Density: Above Standard
Qi Consumption: Minimal
Current Risk: Low
Yan Xuan let out a slow breath.
"So it responds to intent," he murmured.
The moment he relaxed his focus, the overlay dissolved.
Good.
That meant it did not intrude.
That also meant it could be abused.
"Yan Xuan."
He turned.
Instructor Han stood several steps away, arms crossed.
"You've been quiet even by your standards," Han said. "Something on your mind?"
Yan Xuan answered truthfully. "I'm learning the sect's rhythm."
Han snorted softly. "Everyone says that."
He stepped closer. "Tell me something. During yesterday's formation drill—did you guess, or did you know?"
Yan Xuan met his gaze. "I knew the outcome if nothing changed."
Han's eyes narrowed. "No outer disciple should know that."
Yan Xuan said nothing.
Silence stretched.
Then Han smiled faintly. "You're dangerous."
Zhou Kai, who had been pretending not to listen nearby, blurted out, "Instructor, dangerous is a bit much, isn't it?"
Han glanced at him. "You felt the instability, didn't you?"
Zhou Kai hesitated. "I… felt pressure."
"And he saw failure," Han said, nodding toward Yan Xuan. "That difference matters."
Zhou Kai looked at Yan Xuan differently now. "So… how do you do that?"
Yan Xuan replied evenly, "I pay attention."
Han laughed quietly. "That answer will get you in trouble one day."
"Why?" Yan Xuan asked.
"Because people don't like being told their mistakes were obvious," Han said.
That afternoon, Yan Xuan sparred again.
This time, Instructor Han did not pair him randomly.
"You," Han said, pointing at a tall disciple with sharp features. "Late Body Tempering. Fight him."
The disciple smirked. "Try not to get hurt."
Yan Xuan stepped onto the stone ring.
As the signal was given, the system flickered into place unbidden.
Opponent Qi Output: High
Structural Imbalance: Right Knee
Commitment Window: 1.3 seconds
Yan Xuan moved.
He did not strike immediately. He stepped just outside the opponent's optimal range, forcing a heavier step forward.
The knee buckled.
Yan Xuan's palm struck the chest—not hard, but aligned.
The disciple flew backward, skidding across stone.
Silence.
Instructor Han raised a hand. "Enough."
The fallen disciple stared up, stunned. "I—I didn't even feel him use Qi."
Yan Xuan stepped back calmly.
Han's gaze was sharp now. "You're hiding something."
Yan Xuan answered carefully. "I'm avoiding waste."
Han studied him for a long moment.
"See me after evening bell," he said. "Alone."
That night, Yan Xuan sat on his bed, eyes closed.
The overlay hovered again.
Attention Increasing
External Observation Risk: Rising
Yan Xuan frowned slightly.
"So even this has consequences," he said quietly.
He released the focus.
The system vanished.
Outside, voices drifted through the dormitory.
"Did you see that fight?""He's not normal.""Outer disciple or not, that wasn't fair."
Yan Xuan lay back and stared at the ceiling.
Power was never free.
Whether it came from Qi, technique, or understanding—it attracted gravity.
And gravity always pulled attention downward.
Instructor Han wanted answers.
The sect would start asking questions.
And the system, cold and exact, would keep recording outcomes—whether Yan Xuan liked them or not.
For the first time since entering Cloudfall Sect, Yan Xuan felt something new tighten around him.
Not fear.
Not excitement.
Constraint.
And unlike rivers, mountains, or even people—
Constraints were built to keep things inside.