First Settlement

Li Yao perched delicately on a branch atop the mountain, her keen eyes fixed on the distant figure of Xiang Yu. Her senior brother moved through the motions of his knife technique with an intensity she had never witnessed before. Something had changed in him since this morning—a transformation so abrupt it left her puzzled and concerned.

"Is he still unwell?" she whispered to herself, remembering his strange behavior earlier. The senior brother she knew preferred lounging in the shade to sweating under the sun's harsh glare. This newfound dedication was as unexpected as it was fascinating.

Just as she shifted her weight to leap down from her observation post, an unsettling sensation overtook her—her feet no longer touched the branch. She was floating, suspended in midair. With dawning horror, she slowly turned to find herself face-to-face with her master's stern countenance. Elder Guo Shantian held her aloft by the collar of her robes like a misbehaving kitten.

"What are you doing slacking off here?" he demanded, his bushy eyebrows drawn together in disapproval.

Li Yao's cheeks flushed crimson. "Master, I can explain—"

"No need!" The elder cut her off with a dismissive wave. "Go practice and stop bothering your senior brother." Without further warning, he hurled her skyward with effortless strength, sending her soaring through the clouds.

"Wait! Master, I can't fly!" Her panicked scream echoed across the mountainside, but Elder Guo merely watched Xiang Yu train for a few contemplative seconds before vanishing in a blur of motion, leaving his female disciple to her airborne predicament.

Below, oblivious to the drama unfolding above, Xiang Yu swung his knife with mechanical precision. His arms burned with fatigue, his palms raw and blistered. Sweat poured down his face in rivulets, soaking his simple garments until they clung to his trembling frame. Each breath came in ragged gasps as darkness threatened the edges of his vision.

The relentless sun beat down upon him, yet Xiang Yu refused to yield. "If I want to survive in this world," he muttered through gritted teeth, "I must earn every second I live."

Swing after swing, hour after hour, he continued his practice as the sun began its descent toward the horizon. Even as golden-orange hues painted the sky, signaling the day's end, his determination never wavered. Though his muscles screamed for relief, he pushed onward, unwilling to relinquish the momentum he had built.

"Still no progress," he hissed in frustration, yet his blade continued to slice through the air as darkness slowly enveloped the mountain.

From a nearby tree, Li Yao had returned to resume her observation, somehow having survived her master's impromptu flying lesson. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied her senior brother's unusual behavior.

"He's always been lazy," she thought, "always avoided cultivation because of his lack of spiritual roots. What could have possibly happened to change him so dramatically?" After watching his relentless practice for some time longer, she nodded to herself with newfound resolve. "If Senior Brother can work this hard despite his limitations, how can I possibly slack off?" With that thought, she silently retreated to resume her own cultivation regimen.

Atop the highest point of Mountain Heart Pavilion, Elder Guo Shantian observed his two disciples with quiet satisfaction. Li Yao, the undisputed genius of the sect, blessed with talent that appeared once in a generation, had always frittered away precious hours that could have been devoted to cultivation. Now, spurred by her senior brother's unexpected dedication, she too had found new motivation.

The elder's gaze shifted to Xiang Yu, and curiosity creased his weathered features. When he had handed the boy that Basic Knife Technique, he had expected nothing more than a fleeting burst of enthusiasm—one that would inevitably wither in the face of slow progress. Yet here was the boy, nearly a full day later, still swinging his blade with undiminished fervor.

What struck the elder most was the expression etched upon the young man's face. It wasn't mere determination—it was desperation, the look of someone who believed with absolute certainty that failing to execute one more swing might result in his death.

"I don't know what's driving you, boy," Elder Guo mused with a smile, "but whatever it is, it serves you well. Even without spiritual roots, your path isn't at its end."

As twilight deepened into night, Xiang Yu continued his relentless practice until suddenly, a translucent blue screen materialized before his exhausted eyes:

[Calculating Settlement]

…

The translucent blue screen pulsed softly in the darkness as Xiang Yu's exhausted eyes widened in wonder:

[Calculation Complete] 

[Basic Knife Technique: 2 (+2)] 

[Experience Points Doubled] 

[Basic Knife Technique: 2 → 4] 

[Next Settlement: 23:59:59]

Xiang Yu stared at the notification with a mixture of disbelief and exhilaration. It had actually worked! His system had truly doubled his meager experience points, transforming his day's worth of grueling effort into something more substantial. Though the numerical increase seemed paltry—merely from 2 to 4—he could sense a tangible improvement in his understanding of the technique. The knife felt infinitesimally more natural in his grip, the movements a fraction more fluid than before.

"Double nothing is still nothing, but double something..." he whispered to himself, a smile tugging at the corners of his exhausted lips.

His aching body protested as he lowered himself to the ground, his back pressed against the cool earth beneath the training tree. Every muscle fiber screamed for relief, his hands raw and blistered from the wooden hilt of the practice knife. Yet beneath the physical agony lay a seed of hope—precious and fragile. He had made progress, however minimal. In a world where the weak perished without ceremony, even the slightest advancement meant another day of survival.

"That's enough for today," he murmured, his eyelids growing impossibly heavy. "If I don't rest properly, tomorrow's gains will suffer." The tactical logic of his previous life as an office worker merged seamlessly with his newfound cultivation mindset. Efficiency was everything—whether optimizing spreadsheets or spiritual growth.

Sleep claimed him instantly, dreamless and deep.

The melodious chorus of morning birds penetrated Xiang Yu's consciousness, nature's alarm clock drawing him back to wakefulness. Some calls were harmonious and soothing, others shrill and insistent, designed by evolution to rouse even the deepest sleeper. Xiang Yu, however, needed no such encouragement to begin his day.

He sat up with surprising alertness, momentarily disoriented by the firmness beneath him. Had he truly spent the entire night sleeping on the bare ground? The stiffness in his back confirmed it. Blinking away the last vestiges of sleep, he observed the sky's gentle gradient—darkness giving way to the pale promise of dawn.

"Must be around five in the morning," he estimated, mentally calculating that he'd slept barely five hours. Yet strangely, the bone-deep exhaustion that should have plagued him was notably absent. His body felt refreshed, rejuvenated in a way that defied his expectations.

His mind drifted back to his former life on Earth—that one ill-fated attempt at fitness that had left him so debilitated he'd called in sick the following day. The memory was almost comical now.

Clenching his fist experimentally, he felt strength where weakness should have been. "Could it be that I possess the legendary saint body?" A grin spread across his face before rational thought reasserted itself. "Of course not!"

Rising to his feet with a long stretch, Xiang Yu reasoned that this world's ambient spiritual energy must be responsible for his accelerated recovery. Even without the ability to actively absorb qi into his body, the mere presence of such energy in the atmosphere was evidently sufficient to ease muscle fatigue and accelerate healing.

"This is excellent," he thought, flexing his fingers in wonder. "I can push myself even harder today." Though he had successfully gained his first experience points—points that would now double daily through his system's function—he wasn't content to merely rest on these achievements. Active practice would compound his gains exponentially. There would come a time when his progress would plateau, when further effort would yield diminishing returns. Then, and only then, would he rely solely on his system's automatic doubling. But now, while improvement through effort remained possible, he would seize every opportunity.

Without further deliberation, he retrieved his practice knife and resumed the forms, his movements slightly more precise than the day before.

In his private chambers atop Mountain Heart Pavilion, Elder Guo Shantian's meditation was interrupted by the distant but distinctive sounds of knife practice. The rhythmic swishing of a blade cutting through morning air carried clearly to his sensitive ears.

"That brat!" he thought with a mixture of irritation and bemused admiration. Dawn had barely broken, yet there was Xiang Yu, already training with an intensity that disturbed the mountain's tranquility. While the elder had long transcended the need for regular sleep, he nevertheless cherished the quiet hours of early morning for contemplation and spiritual refinement.

For a moment, he considered descending from his pavilion to reprimand the overenthusiastic disciple. His hand stroked his beard thoughtfully before he ultimately decided against intervention.

"Well," he mused, settling back into his meditation posture, "I'll let him have his moment of dedication. It's not as if he'll maintain this fervor every day, right?"