The most dangerous thing about being a hidden expert wasn't the jealous rivals or the ancient conspiracies.
It was the commute.
Jiang Fan stood at the base of the "Heavenly Ascension Staircase," looking up at the three thousand stone steps that led from the squalid Outer Sect to the luxurious Inner Sect peaks.
He checked his system interface.
[ Current Status: WALKING ][ XP Gain: 0 XP/second ]
"Three thousand steps," Jiang Fan groaned, shielding his eyes from the sun. "At a moderate pace, that's forty-five minutes of zero gains. That's almost 3,000 XP lost. This is practically self-harm."
Beside him, the Inner Sect messenger—a tall, imperious disciple in blue silk robes who had kicked open Jiang Fan's door ten minutes ago—sneered.
"Stop whining, Junior Brother. Being summoned to the Frost Forge Pavilion is the highest honor an Outer Disciple can receive. Senior Sister Gu rarely meets anyone."
"Does Senior Sister Gu have an elevator?" Jiang Fan asked hopefully.
"A... what?"
"Never mind. Let's get this over with. My bed is getting cold."
Jiang Fan started climbing. Every step felt like a personal tragedy. He tried to game the system by closing his eyes and "sleepwalking" up a few steps, but he nearly tripped over a root and decided the XP wasn't worth a broken neck.
By the time they reached the summit, the air had changed. The humidity of the lower mountain was replaced by a crisp, biting chill. The buildings here were magnificent pagodas made of polished spirit wood and jade tiles, surrounded by glowing formations that kept the dust away.
It smelled expensive.
The messenger led him to a secluded cliffside pavilion. It was built entirely of dark blue stone that seemed to absorb the light. Before they even reached the door, Jiang Fan could feel waves of freezing air rolling out of the entrance. It was like standing in front of an open freezer.
"Wait here," the messenger commanded, stopping ten feet from the door. He looked terrified of going any closer. "Senior Sister Gu doesn't like noise. Go in, keep your head down, don't stare at her legs, and don't speak unless spoken to. If you anger her, she'll freeze your blood just to see what color it turns."
"Sounds charming," Jiang Fan said. He rubbed his arms, shivering slightly. His Self-Cleaning Talisman kept him clean, but it didn't keep him warm. "Can I borrow your robe? This thin stuff isn't cutting it."
The messenger glared at him and teleported away using a movement technique, clearly eager to escape.
Jiang Fan sighed. "Rude."
He stepped through the archway into the Frost Forge Pavilion.
The inside was a chaotic mix of a blacksmith's forge and a mad scientist's lab. But instead of fire, the furnaces glowed with eerie blue ice-flames. Hammers floated in mid-air, striking anvils with rhythmic clangs that echoed off the frozen walls. Blueprints covered in complex arrays floated around like ghosts.
In the center of the room, surrounded by a swirling vortex of cold mist, sat Gu Ling.
She was terrifyingly beautiful. Her silver hair floated slightly, as if underwater, and her pale skin looked like porcelain that might shatter if touched.
But it was her chair that caught Jiang Fan's attention.
It wasn't a medical device; it was a throne of war. Made of black spirit iron, it hovered a foot off the ground on a silent anti-gravity array. The armrests were molded into the shape of dragon heads, and Jiang Fan could see the tips of jagged metal spider legs folded neatly against the backrest, ready to snap out and impale someone.
Six razor-sharp throwing daggers floated in a perfect circle around her head, pointing outward like a deadly halo.
Gu Ling didn't look up from the blueprint she was studying. Her voice was colder than the air in the room.
"You're late, Outer Disciple Jiang Fan."
The pressure in the room intensified. A normal disciple would have been kneeling on the floor, stammering apologies, terrified by her aura and the lethal weapons circling her head.
Jiang Fan walked further into the room, his eyes fixed on the hovering chair. He walked right up to her, ignoring the floating daggers, and leaned in to get a better look at the suspension system.
"Whoa," Jiang Fan said, genuine admiration in his voice.
Gu Ling paused. Her eyes narrowed. She looked up, expecting to see the usual look of pity or perverse curiosity directed at her paralyzed legs.
Instead, Jiang Fan was squatting down, examining the underside of her seat.
"That's incredible," Jiang Fan muttered, poking a finger near the levitation array. "Zero friction. Smooth ride. Hey, how is the shock absorption on this thing? If you go over a bump, does it jostle you?"
The workshop went dead silent. The floating hammers stopped clanging.
Gu Ling stared at him. Her brain, usually capable of calculating complex alchemical formulas in seconds, ground to a halt.
Is he... asking about the suspension?
"Did you not hear me?" Gu Ling's voice dropped an octave. The six floating daggers turned inward, aiming directly at Jiang Fan's face. "I asked why you are late."
Jiang Fan finally looked up, blinking as if realizing she was there.
"Oh. The stairs. They're terrible. You guys really need to install a slide or something." He stood up and pointed at her seat cushion. "Is that memory foam? It looks super soft. My mattress in the outer sect is basically a bag of rocks."
Gu Ling's eye twitched.
She was the 'Crippled Phoenix'. The Ice Demoness. Inner Sect disciples wet themselves when she frowned. Yet this Stage 3 nobody was treating her deadly spirit-weapon armored transport like it was a piece of IKEA furniture he wanted to buy.
"You are either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid," Gu Ling whispered. The air around her crystallized into tiny ice needles.
"I'm just tired," Jiang Fan yawned. The cold air was actually making him sleepy. "Look, the messenger guy said you wanted to see me. Can we hurry this up? I'm losing XP just standing here."
"XP?"
"Never mind. Inner sect talk. You wouldn't get it."
Gu Ling's patience snapped.
"You defeated Zhao Feng without using Qi. You dodged his attacks before he even moved." Her eyes glowed blue. "Show me how."
Without warning, she flicked her wrist.
One of the floating daggers shot toward Jiang Fan's shoulder. It wasn't a lethal shot, but it was fast enough to pin a normal Stage 3 cultivator to the wall.
Jiang Fan didn't even flinch. He was busy rubbing his eye with one hand.
[ System Alert: Hostility Detected. ][ Activating 'Sleepwalker Step'. ]
Just as the tip of the blade touched his robe, Jiang Fan's knees buckled slightly. It looked like he was just shifting his weight because he was bored.
The dagger sailed smoothly over his shoulder, missing him by a millimeter, and embedded itself in the stone wall behind him with a loud CRUNCH.
Jiang Fan finished rubbing his eye. He looked at the dagger in the wall, then back at Gu Ling.
"Hey," Jiang Fan frowned, looking genuinely annoyed for the first time. "Watch it. I almost had to move quickly. That would have been exhausting."
Gu Ling stared at him. Her calculating mind replayed the movement. No tension. No anticipation. No Qi flare. It was like... his body just happened to not be there.
A slow, terrifying smile spread across Gu Ling's face.
"Fascinating," she whispered.
Jiang Fan shivered. He didn't like that smile. It was the smile of a scientist looking at a juicy new lab rat.
"Okay, I showed you the thing," Jiang Fan edged toward the door. "Can I go now?"
"No." The hovering chair whirred softly as she spun to face him, cutting off his escape route. "We are going to make a deal, Jiang Fan. I want to study that movement technique."
"Study it? It's called 'being lazy'. You can't teach it. You're too intense."
"Everything can be taught. Everything can be replicated." She leaned forward, her eyes burning with intellectual hunger. "If you let me observe you, test your limits, I will pay you. Spirit stones? Pills? Weapons? Name your price. I am the best smith in the sect. I can forge you a sword that cuts through steel like butter."
Jiang Fan looked at the deadly daggers. He looked at the imposing armor she was building in the corner.
Then, he looked back at her comfortable, hovering chair.
A lightbulb went off in his head.
"Forget swords. I have too many of those from people I beat up," Jiang Fan said, stepping forward with sudden interest. "You're a master builder, right? You can build anything?"
"Within reason. Yes."
"Okay. Deal." Jiang Fan grinned. "I need you to build me a bed."
Gu Ling blinked. "...A bed?"
"Not just any bed. I want the frame made of that floating iron stuff so it rocks gently. I want the mattress stuffed with Spirit Down feathers that regulate temperature so I'm never too hot or too cold. Oh, and can you install a small array on the side that automatically dispenses snacks so I don't have to sit up to eat?"
Gu Ling stared at him for a long, long time.
"You want me... the Ice Lotus of the Forge... to build you... a snack-dispensing floating bed."
"Yes. Is that within reason?"
Gu Ling pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. This boy was absurd. He was a waste of talent. He was everything she despised.
But that movement technique... it was flawless.
"Fine," she gritted out. "One legendary bed. In exchange for your cooperation as my test subject."
"Pleasure doing business with you, Senior Sister." Jiang Fan yawned, turning to leave. "Try to have it done by tomorrow night. My back is killing me."