Probation, Ren learned very quickly, was just expulsion with extra steps.
He now had rules.
So many rules.
Don't enter restricted areas.
Don't provoke senior disciples.
Don't accumulate new debts (this one felt personal).
And most importantly—don't embarrass the sect.
Ren read the list twice, then nodded solemnly.
"Well," he murmured, "good thing embarrassment is such a vague, subjective concept."
> System Advisory:
Host intent detected: Rule-bending.
"Not bending," Ren corrected. "Interpretation. Big difference."
His new living situation reflected his status perfectly: a smaller room, thinner bedding, and a door that creaked like it was gossiping about him. Still, it was a room—which meant he hadn't been thrown off a mountain yet.
A win was a win.
Ren dropped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.
> Status Update:
Cultivation: Pre–Body Tempering
Qi Sensitivity: Awakening
Reputation: "Annoying but concerning"
Survival Outlook: Improved (Marginally)
Ren smiled. "I've been called worse."
A knock sounded.
Ren blinked. "Either this is good news, bad news, or someone collecting organs."
The door opened without waiting for permission—because of course it did.
Zhao Kun stepped inside.
Ren sighed. "Ah. Option four. Unwanted sequel."
Zhao Kun folded his arms, eyes cold. "You think you're clever."
Ren tilted his head. "I prefer 'emotionally resilient with a strong sense of irony.'"
Zhao Kun ignored him. "You humiliated me during the evaluation."
Ren raised a brow. "You humiliated yourself. I just provided ambiance."
Silence thickened.
"You won't last," Zhao Kun said quietly. "Probation disciples disappear all the time."
Ren nodded thoughtfully. "Good to know. I'll update my will."
Zhao Kun scoffed and turned to leave, pausing at the doorway. "Watch your mouth."
Ren smiled pleasantly. "Watch your Qi. It leaks when you're angry."
The door slammed.
> System Update:
Host successfully antagonized rival.
Threat Level: Increased
Psychological Advantage: Maintained
Ren leaned back. "You know," he said to the system, "in every story I've read, this is where the villain underestimates the protagonist."
> System Response:
Probability of severe retaliation: High
Ren grinned. "Ah. So we're on schedule."
---
Later that night, Ren sat cross-legged, attempting the solo circulation technique again. His Qi moved—slowly, clumsily—but it moved.
Progress, however humiliating.
> Body Tempering Progress: 9% → 12%
Ren opened one eye. "Twelve percent. At this rate, I'll be invincible sometime after retirement."
A soft rustle outside his door pulled him from his thoughts.
Then a familiar voice.
"Lin Fan?"
Ren blinked. "…I really need to start locking this thing."
The door slid open to reveal Su Meilin.
She looked around his bare room, expression unreadable.
"This is where probation disciples live?" she asked.
Ren gestured grandly. "Welcome to luxury. Please mind the draft and the crushing symbolism."
She shook her head slightly. "You shouldn't have passed."
Ren smiled. "Rude, but accurate."
"I mean it," she said seriously. "Someone will target you."
Ren shrugged. "Someone already is. Zhao Kun has that 'future corpse-maker' energy."
She hesitated. "You don't seem afraid."
Ren considered that.
"Fear is inefficient," he said finally. "Sarcasm, however, is renewable."
She stared at him, then sighed. "You're impossible."
> System Update:
Target: Su Meilin
Favorability: 26% → 28%
Reason: Honest self-awareness
She placed a small pouch on his table.
"Basic Qi supplements," she said. "Use them carefully."
Ren looked at the pouch, then at her. "Is this where I dramatically refuse out of pride?"
"Yes," she replied.
Ren immediately picked it up. "I graciously accept."
She snorted.
> Micro-Reaction Detected
Favorability: 28% → 29%
She turned to leave, then paused. "Lin Fan."
Ren looked up. "Yes?"
"…Don't die."
Ren smiled softly. "No promises. But I'll try to make it inconvenient for anyone who tries."
She left.
Ren sat there for a long moment, then leaned back, exhaling.
"System," he said, "remind me to stay alive out of spite."
> System Response:
Motivation logged.
Outside, the Azure Blossom Sect slept.
Enemies plotted.
Allies hesitated.
And a probationary disciple with twelve percent body tempering and one hundred percent attitude prepared—slowly, sarcastically—to become a problem no one had planned for.