Morning came with the usual sounds — clucking chickens, groaning fence posts, and Old Mu shouting about someone stealing his garlic again. Ash sat cross-legged behind his shack, a boiled yam on one knee and a clump of damp rice in his hand.
He took a bite.
[Root Stomach – Progress: 37%]Stability increasing. Qi adaptation: minimal. Consider environment enhancement for faster growth.
"...Environment enhancement. Sure, let me just sprinkle some premium spiritual dew around and maybe grow a golden lotus in my sock drawer."
Still, he chewed obediently. Skill or not, he wasn't going to waste food.
The golden text wasn't blinding or dramatic. It just was, like a quiet scribe in the back of his mind. And strangely — it never forced anything. It didn't shout at him, didn't give tutorials or quests. It only responded.
Like a mirror for his thoughts.
The Local Problem: Backs and Beetles
"Ash! The west terrace is crawling again!"
Old Mu's voice.
Ash sighed and stood, stretching until his shoulders popped. Every muscle ached, but—
[Minor Pain Suppression – Effect: Active]Soreness reduced. Body tension lowered. You are now slightly less miserable.
He blinked. "...Okay, that's kind of nice."
It wasn't a miracle. His spine didn't sparkle. But the dull ache that usually nagged him felt… quieter. Like his bones had agreed to stop whining for a bit.
The West Terrace, and Its Horrors
The west terrace was mostly root crops — taro, burdock, some kind of aggressively hairy tuber that Ash suspected had been bred purely out of spite. The problem was the beetles. Thumb-sized, green-shelled, and stupidly aggressive.
He knelt by a burdock row and squinted at a twitching leaf.
Three beetles.
Ash muttered, "What about a skill to drive bugs away?"
[New Skill Concept Recognized: "Passive Insect Repulsion"]– Status: Primitive– Requirement: Extended exposure to insects, repetitive mental focus on discomfort, aromatic herb interaction.– Potential Effect: Low-grade aura causes non-spiritual insects to avoid contact.
Ash grinned. "So I basically need to marinate myself in bug hate and herbs?"
[Correct.]
He froze.
"…Did you just respond?"
[Clarification: Not sentient. Passive feedback loop. Responses are generated based on user intent and systemic evaluation.]
"Oh. You're just very good at guessing."
[Correct.]
Midday Realizations
By noon, Ash was sweaty, sore, and smelled faintly of ginger and onions thanks to rubbing wild herbs on himself. But — not a single beetle had landed on him.
[Passive Insect Repulsion – Progress: 12%]Repulsion effect noticed by 5 beetles. Two turned around. One flipped upside-down and gave up on life.
Ash cackled. "I'm terrifying bugs now. This is what real power feels like."
Human Contact: Uh-oh
Later that evening, while he was washing up at the river, someone else showed up — someone not from the fields.
She wore dull orange robes, travel-worn, but clearly marked with a stitched sigil: an open fan crossed by two blades — a lower branch of the Thousand Leaves Sect.
Ash froze, hands mid-scrub.
She didn't look hostile. Just tired. And maybe confused.
"You live here?" she asked, pushing aside a low branch.
Ash hesitated. "...Define 'live.'"
She blinked. "This is Moss Ridge Sector, right? I'm mapping spirit-weak zones for resource reports."
Ash nodded slowly, brain spinning. He'd never had to lie to a cultivator before, but he was definitely not telling her he'd just created a digestive upgrade by eating yams.
The woman glanced at him, then at the woven basket beside him. "...Are you eating nothing but tubers?"
Ash looked at the yam.
The yam looked back.
"...They're versatile."
She actually snorted. "You cultivator types are weird."
Ash didn't correct her.
Let her think that.
Nightfall, and Quiet Thoughts
Back in his shed, Ash sat in the dark, mentally scrolling through his new list:
Minor Pain Suppression
Root Stomach (59%)
Passive Insect Repulsion (19%)
[Concept Slot Open]
The system didn't punish him for failure. It didn't care if he meditated in a lotus pose or slept under his hoe. It just… waited.
He liked that.
It wasn't pushy. It didn't give him ten thousand skill trees or flashbacks of gods. It simply let him imagine, then try.
And if it worked?
He created something no one else had.
He looked at his hands. Still calloused. Still plain.
But no longer useless.
He whispered, "What if I could make a skill that… makes food taste better?"
The golden text flickered.
[Concept Recognized: "Flavor Enhancement"]– Status: Amusing– Effect: Possibly real. Possibly placebo. Try it and find out.
Ash chuckled.
He had no weapons, no qi sword, no ancient bloodline.
But he had yams.
And a cheat system that listened.
End of Chapter 2