The Dark jin
After that incident, days slipped away. While many of her girlfriends and even boys rushed to comfort Xu Qing, unexpected love letters began to arrive for me. I became fresh target? The very next day, I got back the money I had lent her, accompanied by a note that read, "You will regret it." It was unmistakably Xu's doing. Anyway, I was happy.
I could hear the murmurs and whispers, people calling me an idiot for rejecting what they called a "goddess's confession." Within a week, everything faded away; Xu had practically sealed herself off from any further interaction with me. Yet confined within the same walls of class it was awkward for her.
I cared about cultivation, and its not wise to laze around after having a breakthrough. I practiced daily at home followed by meditation. In the quiet solitude of my practice, my meridian pathways were reforged and my dantian expanded to its maximum capacity. As months passed and I neared the peak of the Ming Jin realm, I felt the barrier and decided it was time to seek a breakthrough. The comfort of the home is nice, but it offers little privacy during breakthrough process.
I journeyed to a mountainous area in the northern suburbs. Stepping off the bus, I found myself in a desolate region marked by silence and isolation. Across the road, a remote villa stood as a silent witness to the passing of time. To avoid drawing unwanted attention, I have already subtly adjusted my appearance before venturing out.
Seeking refuge beneath the shelter of a lone tree at the edge of a forest path deep within, there, I paused to see the view: a steep slope bathed in the gentle glow of a setting sun, its orange hues softly diffusing over a landscape unspoiled by pollution. The air carried a delicate warmth and moisture that seemed to awaken something deep within me. In that moment, I felt utterly liberated. Unconsciously, I released my aura. Gathering my thoughts, I settled into meditation. After an hour of quiet introspection, I resumed my practice, ready to push beyond the limits of my current state.
As I deepened my practice, I began to understand how intent shapes energy
"Intent directs energy like an arrow flies true to its mark. Without it, energy fades away; with clear purpose, it can reach for the heavens."
"That which once seemed external now burns within, and raw force transforms into precise action. In stillness there is strength, and in subtlety, hidden power."
"Darkness is not emptiness but depth; not silence but a resonant echo. Embrace the unseen, for a quiet ripple can be mightier than a crashing tide."
As I focused, my Qi began to flow through smaller meridians, strengthening each one. The pathways, once narrow, gradually widened. My body felt flexible, like bamboo bending in the wind, while my mind remained steady as a mountain.
After hours of consolidation, I finally entered the realm of Dark Jin. With my eyes closed, I visualized a black flame—a darkness so deep it consumed all light—circulating through my meridians, reinforcing them with every pass. My Qi had reached its peak, and I no longer felt like I was just training body movement skills. I was truly practicing martial arts.
That night, I lost myself in refining my boxing skills. Each punch I threw neared the speed of sound, accompanied by a soft, resonant boom. My movements—leg sweeps, dodges, jumps, and kicks—flowed together effortlessly, like a dance. In just an hour, every muscle in my body responded with perfect control, as if it remembered a lifetime of muscle memory.
I no longer had to hold back, as I did in the Ming Jin stage. Now, I commanded my strength, flexibility, and entire being with complete mastery. I feel like I am half-way there up to the mastery of one's internal energy as I had, back in my past.
To test my progress, I aimed a punch at the rough bark of a nearby tree. The impact left a deep impression, five centimeters deep. Focusing on the principles of power and intent, I struck again. This time, the bark caved in even further, sinking fifteen centimeters. With Dark Jin, intent became inseparable from every movement—a technique once reserved for the most ancient and revered spiritual arts.
When Han Chen glanced at his watch, the glowing digits read 6:30 a.m. He'd told his family he was staying out all night with his friend Fan Qing—a flimsy excuse, but enough to keep them from worrying.
As he turned to leave the quiet mountainside, movement caught his eye. An elderly man and a girl around his age were walking toward him. Great, he thought, biting back a groan. Am I suddenly the main character of some cheesy martial arts novel? He kept his face neutral and ready to go back.
The girl stepped forward first, her ponytail swinging like a weapon. "Who are you?" she demanded, arms crossed. "Why're you lurking up here?"
Han Chen shrugged, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. "What lurking? Why do you care? I came to watch the sunrise." He nodded toward the horizon, where pale gold streaks were beginning to bleed into the sky.
She snorted, kicking at the dirt. "Then why's the ground all torn up here? Did you—hiss—dump a body or something?"
He blinked. "Seriously? You watch too many crime dramas. Please mind your own business."
She narrowed her eyes. "Hmm, you're suspicious. I'll be keeping an eye on you."
The old man, Tang Songshan, interjected. "Tang Xuemei, don't bother with this young man. Let's move further up."
A little while later, both of them are practicing Bājíquán boxing and Han Chen sat down silently watched the sun rise. He used system to see their properties.
Tang Xuěméi
Body : Mortal (Human)
Realm: Ming Jin entry
Status: Young Martial Artist in Training
Favorability: Suspicious( -5 )
Age: 15
Skills: Basic martial techniques, agility, flexibility, bajiquan
Background: Daughter of the Tang family, practicing under her grandfather's guidance to cultivate strength and inner harmony through martial arts.
Traits: Youthful resilience, quick learning, strong family bonds
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Tang Sōngshān
Body : Mortal (Human)
Realm: Transform Jin [ master regressed ]
Status: Elder Martial Artist, currently injured. Hidden injury about to erupt in 28 minutes, 45 seconds.
Favorability: Neutral (Doesn't care)
Age: Late 60s
Skills: Master of Bājíquán and internal energy techniques, expert in gun fighting and spear training, martial philosophy
Background: A lifelong practitioner of martial arts, he has trained many students, including his granddaughter, teaching not only combat techniques but the deeper philosophies of life and martial discipline.
Traits: Steady in mind and body, deeply connected to nature, spiritually focused.
Seeing this, Han Chen was struck by inspiration to practice his eye technique—might as well test it. Closing his eyes, he channeled a trickle of Qi into his vision. When he opened them again, the world had washed out to grayscale, except for swirling threads of gold around the two figures. The girl's energy flowed cleanly through her meridians, but the old man's… Yikes. Tang Songshan's life force leaked like a cracked pipe, some of his meridians had broken, pooling dangerously in his core ready to explode.
The technique faltered as Han Chen's current realm limited his use of the Heavenly Law, and the energy consumption was high without the support of spiritual sense.
He pulled out his phone, activating the privacy-scrambling app he'd coded himself. The emergency operator answered on the second ring.
"Ambulance service? This is Li Daxiao," Han Chen lied smoothly, pitching his voice deeper. "Elder Tang Songshan of the Tang family is critically injured near Springlake Community Villa. He's vomiting blood, possible organ failure. Send advanced life support—now."
Only 10 minutes left. Watching the old man strain, Han Chen had an impulse to reach out and help, but he thought of his dao, Low-profile. Fate is tempting me. Recalled a healing technique he knew: Yīnyáng Liáo Qì Jué, a Qi induction technique that required only waving his arms over the subject. He quietly practiced while restraining breath and keeping an eye on the old man. After a moment, Han Chen spoke:
"Old man, you should stop practicing now."
Tang Xuemei was about to erupt in anger, but seeing her grandfather's trembling body, she quickly rushed to his side. Few minutes later, the old man started coughing violently, blood spilling from his mouth as he collapsed to the ground.
"Grandpa!" Tang Xuemei screamed.
Han Chen crouched beside the old man whose throat tightening. Even with advanced life support en route, he knew it wouldn't stabilize the shattered meridians in time. 5 minutes my ass—this is happening now.
His fingers brushed Tang Songshan's sternum—Shān Zhōng—then dipped to Qì Hǎi below the navel, lingering at Zhōng Wǎn near the stomach. Each touch left a prickling warmth as he channeled the Yīnyáng Liáo Qì Jué, threads of healing energy stitching temporary seals over the man's ruptured energy pathways. The fix was flimsy, a dam made of spiritual gauze—it'd dissolve within the hour but maybe buy time for the ambulance.
Han Chen got tired for using spiritual arts with martial art internal energy, getting up he heard the sound of ambulance nearing him on the main road. He slowly went to the road and made the driver notice.
Tang Xuemei didn't notice. She knelt nearby, phone clutched in shaking hands, her shouts to the operators raw with panic. "H-he's coughing blood! You have to—!"
Han Chen edged back as whirring medical drones descended, their stretcher bots unfolding like mechanical origami. Paramedics in sleek gray uniforms swarmed the scene, loading the old man with practiced efficiency. One shot Xuemei a sympathetic glance as she scrambled into the ambulance, tear tracks gleaming under the rising sun.
By the time she thought to look for the stranger in the hoodie, Han Chen was already halfway down the mountain trail. He flexed his tingling fingers, mind buzzing. Merits of righteousness?
As he was the consciousness of system merged with his past-self itself, he directly received a new information on the cause and effect. A notification about "karma points" appeared in mind —but he swiped it away. Below, the city stirred awake: delivery bots zipped through streets, neon signs flickered off, and his mom's inevitable "WHERE ARE YOU??" text lit up his phone.