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Chapter 2: A New Awakening
Li Chen stirred slowly, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him like a mountain. His limbs ached in protest, muscles stiff and uncooperative, and his mind felt hazy, as though he were moving through water. The rain from yesterday still seemed to cling to his skin, though he knew it was only memory pressing upon him.
He opened his eyes. Soft light filtered into the room, revealing plain walls, a wooden floor, and the faint scent of herbs from the infirmary. The bruises on his arms and legs throbbed gently, reminders of yesterday's relentless training—and his failure.
"Li Chen," a voice called softly but firmly. Elder Yun entered the room, moving with quiet confidence. His robes were simple, his hair streaked with gray, and his eyes, though stern, carried a weight of care that few others could claim.
Li Chen attempted to rise but faltered, his body screaming in protest. Elder Yun was at his side in an instant, steadying him with a strong hand on his shoulder.
"You've woken again," the elder said, his tone calm yet carrying unmistakable concern. "Though I worry… for your body, and for your future."
Li Chen swallowed, forcing words past the tightness in his chest. "Thank you… Elder Yun."
Elder Yun's expression softened just a fraction before returning to his stern composure. "I am only stern because I care. You've been brought here fourteen times in the last two months alone. Fourteen. And each time, you showed up bruised, beaten, or on the verge of collapse. I have said it before, and I will say it again: if you cannot maintain even the basics, perhaps it is better to find work outside the sect than to continue suffering in its courtyards."
The words hit Li Chen like a cold wind. Not cruel, but firm. Every syllable carried truth, and beneath the sternness was a thread of worry.
"I…" Li Chen began, unsure of how to reply. "I will try… I'll work harder."
Elder Yun nodded, eyes softening just slightly. "Try, yes. But do not mistake effort for understanding. You have potential, Li Chen. I see it, though others may not. But potential is meaningless if you are crushed before you even grasp it. Remember that. I worry for your safety… not only from the courtyard, but from yourself."
Li Chen felt warmth rise in his chest despite the ache in his body. Elder Yun's words were strict, yet carried the rare flavor of genuine concern, of someone who understood the gap between effort and capability, and cared enough to warn him.
"I… I understand, Elder Yun. Thank you for your concern," Li Chen said sincerely, bowing his head.
"You're welcome," Elder Yun replied, stepping back. "Rest now. You need it. And when you awaken again, perhaps we can discuss how to make your training… more bearable."
Li Chen nodded, weak but grateful. He returned to his quarters, each step a quiet battle, his muscles trembling under the weight of fatigue. Lying on his simple bed, he closed his eyes, intending only to rest and recover.
---
When he awoke again, the world around him had shifted.
He blinked, squinting against a light that was both softer and sharper than sunlight. The faint scent of herbs was gone, replaced by a crisp, almost sterile air tinged with something unfamiliar—metallic, yet clean. He sat up quickly, heart pounding.
He was not in his bed. Nor in the infirmary. Nor anywhere familiar.
Before him stretched a vast open space, glowing faintly in tones of silver and pale blue. Floating panels hovered in the air, covered in symbols that shifted and changed, dancing like living things. At the center of it all, a voice rang out—snarky, sharp, and unmistakably full of attitude.
"Finally," the voice said, dripping with annoyance. "You took your sweet time waking up, mortal. Honestly, I almost forgot you existed."
Li Chen froze, blinking at the empty air. "Wh—Who's there?"
"I am your System Interface, obviously," the voice replied, sharp as a blade and impossibly smug. "Though judging by your pathetic waking groans, I'm going to assume intelligence is also on the low side. Not that I care. I'm here to help you, whether you like it or not."
Li Chen's brows furrowed. "Help me? Who… what are you?"
The voice let out a low, sarcastic laugh. "Oh, my, such manners. Listen carefully, weakling. I am here because you apparently can't manage your own pathetic existence. I guide, assist, and occasionally correct you. And trust me, you're going to need it. A lot."
Li Chen clenched his fists, the bruises and fatigue still heavy in his body. "I don't need help… I can manage."
The system's voice snorted. "Oh, please. That attitude will get you flattened in five seconds of real combat. I suggest you learn to listen. And yes, I am snarky. Deal with it."
Despite himself, Li Chen felt a spark of curiosity—and irritation. The voice was irritating, obnoxious even, yet the sheer certainty in it suggested usefulness. He straightened, wincing as muscles protested.
"Fine. If you're going to help… then tell me what I have to do," he said, forcing his voice into calm authority, though inwardly he was bristling.
A panel in front of him shifted, symbols rearranging, forming a clear list. The voice continued, now tinged with impatience. "Tasks. Objectives. Growth. Don't get distracted by the aesthetics of the interface. You will follow instructions, or you will fail. And you will fail a lot if you don't."
Li Chen studied the list. Even at first glance, it was overwhelming—but underneath the snark and attitude, he sensed a structure, a system. A method. Perhaps, just perhaps, this would be the path he had lacked in the real world and in the sect.
He straightened further, determination building inside him. The faint ache of yesterday, the bruises, the ridicule—all of it faded slightly against a new sense of possibility.
I may be weak… but I will not remain so forever.
The system scoffed. "Finally. Some backbone. Not much, but enough to work with. Let's see how long it lasts."
Li Chen clenched his fists again, gaze firm. "Then… let's begin."
And somewhere deep within this strange, new world, a faint pulse of anticipation echoed—like the beginning of a spark ready to ignite a flame.
---
Li Chen blinked at the floating panels, still trying to wrap his head around the surreal space. The rain-soaked courtyard and the distant hum of the sect—all gone. Instead, he stood in this endless silver-blue void, and that insufferable voice hovered in the air.
"Enough staring," it snapped. "Clearly, your cognitive faculties require constant stimulation. You're detached from your original world. Yes, the one you call your sect—though don't let your sentimental heart get soft. You ended up here because your feeble body could no longer sustain proper cultivation under it's guidance. Congratulations."
Li Chen's jaw tightened. "Excuse me? Feeble body? I—"
"Ah, protests. How quaint," the voice cut him off, dripping with condescension. "Yes, you were weak. But it's not just weakness. You were inefficient. Ineffective. Honestly, I'd say lucky to have survived as long as you did. Detached from your sect, you've been transferred here to this… let's call it a controlled environment. One where failure doesn't result in your permanent demise."
Li Chen felt a flare of indignation. "Controlled environment? You mean… this is like a… a training realm?"
The system let out a sharp, haughty laugh. "Training realm? Pfft. If you call it that, sure. More like a place where the incompetent get a second chance. You're… special, in the sense that you're alive and breathing despite your numerous deficiencies. And now, lucky you, you get to learn properly. Try to keep up, won't you?"
Li Chen's teeth ground together, irritation mixing with curiosity. "Why are you being so rude? Are you… supposed to help me or insult me?"
"I do both," the system replied, smirking audibly through the voice. "Insulting you ensures you don't grow complacent. Helping you ensures that, against all odds, you might survive. Survival is critical, especially given how often you've failed. Think of me as… a necessary evil. The evil that talks. The evil that barks orders. The evil that is infinitely more competent than you'll ever be—probably."
Li Chen pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. This is going to be a long partnership.
"Now, listen carefully," the system continued, its tone sharper, though still laced with mockery. "You were transferred here because your cultivation body, your meridians, and your stamina were all… insufficient for the rigorous training of your original master. Elder Yun is not to blame. He is competent, patient, and rather fond of you—remarkably tolerant, in fact. But you? You were overextended. And so, as fate and the laws of cultivation would have it, you are here. And here… well, you have a chance. Not a guarantee, mind you. A chance. Don't screw it up."
Li Chen took a deep breath, letting the words sink in. Despite the system's attitude, he couldn't deny the truth behind them. He had failed. He had been beaten, humiliated, and brought to the brink. Yet now, a strange feeling of opportunity stirred inside him.
"So… this place," he said cautiously, "it's like a… secondary world? A space where I can train without…" He hesitated, "without the immediate danger of… failure?"
The system's voice dropped into a mock whisper. "Oh, bravo. You figured it out. Yes. You get to grow without being flattened like a pancake by your peers, instructors, or sheer incompetence. Consider it a vacation from death… with perks. And yes, I'll be your companion, your guide, your merciless reminder of just how pathetic you are. Welcome to your second home."
Li Chen's lips twitched in a grim smile, half annoyed, half amused. "Charming. Just… charming."
"Don't get too friendly," the system said sharply. "I don't do friendship. I do efficiency. Growth. Survival. And occasional sarcasm, which you clearly need in abundance."
Li Chen exhaled, staring at the panels that hovered before him. Symbols shifted and realigned, tiny glimmers of energy pulsing faintly along the edges. Despite the attitude, the structure of this place was undeniable. Instructions, objectives, paths—everything here was logical, measurable, and designed for growth.
"Fine," he muttered under his breath. "If I have to be stuck with someone like you… then let's start. But don't think I'll tolerate your insults for long."
The system's laugh echoed around him. "Oh, I'm counting on it. You're feisty. I'll enjoy that."
And for the first time in a long while, Li Chen felt that familiar spark deep within him—the spark of determination, of potential waiting to be realized.
The void around him pulsed faintly in response, almost as if acknowledging the ignition of that tiny flame.