Four days slipped by in the quiet rhythm of discipline, each moment a testament to Shen Yue's unyielding pursuit of growth. At fourteen, his transformation was nothing short of extraordinary. His days brimmed with relentless study and grueling physical training, a cycle that sharpened both mind and body.
He tore through nineteen books in rapid succession, each page fueling a clarity that felt like a blade being honed. Where once eight or nine hours of reading would have left him drained, his mind now thrived, razor-sharp and unyielding.
The system interface, a glowing mirror of his progress, confirmed his ascent:
---
System Interface
Name: Shen Yue
Age: 14
Physique: High-Level Iron-Copper Molting Physique
Bloodline: Mid-Level Flame Scorpion Bloodline
Cultivation: Uninitiated
Skills:
Literacy and Knowledge (Small Success) (7%)
Calisthenics (Beginner) (99%)
Spiritual Root: Low-Level Fire Spiritual Root (Mixed) (0%)
Talent: Extraction
Mid-Level Sword Talent (0%)
Low-Level Archery Talent (0%)
Low-Level Spear Talent (0%)
Mid-Level Comprehension (0%)
Unique Traits:
Clones: 0 (Locked)
Stats:
Strength: 10
Dexterity: 8.3
Wisdom: 2.7
Spirit: 0.9
---
The numbers told a story of quiet triumph.
The aches that once plagued his shoulders, knees, and back had vanished, replaced by a newfound flexibility.
His movements were fluid, almost primal, like a young beast in its prime.
His frame was subtly reshaping—muscles tightening, bones aligning toward a build that promised efficiency and power.
Even his stats reflected this evolution: dexterity and wisdom had each risen by 0.3 points, small but undeniable markers of his growth.
Shen Yue credited his calisthenics routine for the change. What began as a means to mend his body had become a cornerstone of his transformation.
Planche push-ups, handstand presses, and high jumps, once daunting, now felt instinctive.
He could train for three or four hours without gasping, his stamina a testament to his discipline.
"This is only the beginning," he murmured, wiping sweat from his brow, his voice low but resolute.
One evening, after a particularly intense three-hour session, he collapsed onto a stool, muscles burning with a satisfying ache.
He glanced at his system interface and felt a surge of pride.
"Calisthenics – Master (5%)," it read.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"Still so far to go," he thought, his mind drifting to the looming deadline. "Sixteen days until the military period ends… I can't falter now."
A faint unease stirred in his chest, a whisper of the trials awaiting him, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the present.
A sharp knock at the door shattered his reverie.
Before he could respond, the door creaked open, and Ming Xue, the familiar servant girl, stepped inside.
Over the past few days, their dynamic had softened, evolving from formal to something warmer, more familiar.
Ming Xue, an orphan raised by Madam Xia, served the estate with a loyalty born of love, viewing the mistress as a mother rather than an employer.
Her presence had become a quiet constant in Shen Yue's days, her quick wit a spark of light amid his relentless routine.
Today, though, she froze in the doorway.
Shen Yue stood shirtless, sweat glistening on his skin, his lean frame sculpted by discipline.
His shoulders were broader, his arms defined, his torso carved with purpose.
Ming Xue's eyes lingered, a flicker of awe crossing her delicate features.
A blush crept onto her cheeks, betraying her composure.
Shen Yue caught her gaze and smirked, his voice teasing.
"Little Xue, barging into a man's room uninvited? Are you starting to have… other thoughts?"
Her blush deepened, her eyes snapping to the floor.
"Y-you must've hit your head during training!" she stammered, turning to the side, her voice a mix of indignation and embarrassment.
"Oh?" Shen Yue's grin widened, his tone playful. "Then why are your eyes still lingering?"
Ming Xue's face turned crimson, her hands fidgeting.
"You're impossible!" she huffed, but when he added, "Want to touch my body, Xue? I won't bite," her entire frame tensed.
Her ears burned red, and for a moment, she seemed torn between fleeing and retorting.
Shen Yue chuckled, softening his tone.
"Relax, I'm just teasing. You're too easy to rattle."
She didn't respond, instead hurrying to place a food tray on the table.
The tray held a simple spread—steamed rice, crisp vegetables, and two extra eggs, their yolks golden and inviting.
"I added extra eggs," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Eat well. Recover quickly."
With that, she spun on her heel and fled, her footsteps echoing down the stone corridor.
Shen Yue shook his head, grinning.
"She's too fun to tease," he said to himself, a warmth in his voice.
He sat down to eat, savoring the meal's simplicity.
As he chewed, his thoughts wandered to Ming Xue—her flustered reactions, her quiet strength.
A faint fondness stirred within him, unexpected but undeniable.
He pushed it aside, his focus returning to his training.
There was no room for distractions, not with the military period looming.
Unbeknownst to him, Ming Xue lingered outside his room, her back pressed against the cold stone wall.
Her heart raced, her breath uneven.
"How can he say that so casually?" she whispered, her cheeks still burning.
Yet, beneath the frustration, another thought took root.
"His body… it's incredible."
A fleeting, scandalous idea crossed her mind—Should I ask to touch it next time? Maybe offer to help him bathe?
She shook her head violently, mortified, and hurried off to her duties, her footsteps quickening as if to outrun her thoughts.
---
The days flowed like a river, another week slipping by in a blur of effort.
Shen Yue's routine grew fiercer, his focus unyielding.
He pushed his body to its limits, each session refining his strength and agility.
His mind expanded with every book, his thoughts sharper, more precise.
The system interface reflected his progress: Literacy and Knowledge had reached Great Success (9%), and Calisthenics had advanced to Small Success (2%).
The numbers were a quiet validation, a reminder that every drop of sweat was building something greater.
Outside the estate, whispers of change drifted on the wind.
Servants spoke in hushed tones of increased military patrols, their voices carrying a tension Shen Yue couldn't ignore.
The military period was approaching, a crucible that would test his growth.
He brushed the thought aside, but it lingered, a shadow at the edge of his mind.
His bond with Ming Xue deepened, their interactions a blend of playful teasing and genuine warmth.
Despite her four years' seniority, Shen Yue persisted in calling her "Little Xue," a nickname she never corrected.
Their banter grew bolder, a dance of words that brought a smile to his face even on the hardest days.
One afternoon, as Shen Yue stretched in the courtyard, sweat beading on his brow, Ming Xue arrived with her usual tray.
He caught her eye and grinned, unable to resist.
"Back to admire my physique, Little Xue? Want to touch it this time?"
To his surprise, she didn't blush or turn away.
Her lips curved into a mischievous smile.
"Maybe I do," she said, her voice light but daring.
Before he could react, she stepped closer, her hand brushing his chest, then trailing down his arm.
Her touch was teasing, deliberate, but when her fingers grazed lower, dangerously close to a private area, Shen Yue's confidence faltered.
He jumped back, his face and ears burning red.
"You're… really small," Ming Xue teased, her tone laced with mischief as she made a playful gesture with her hand.
"Out!" Shen Yue barked, his voice a mix of embarrassment and mock indignation.
She laughed, her eyes sparkling with triumph, and sauntered out, leaving him flustered and shaking his head.
Collapsing onto his bed, Shen Yue let out a breath, a grin tugging at his lips.
"She's getting bolder," he muttered, his heart still racing.
For a moment, he lingered on her—her wit, her warmth, the way her eyes lit up when she teased him back.
But he shook it off, his mind returning to his training.
The military period was too close for distractions.
That night, as he reviewed his system interface, Shen Yue felt a quiet satisfaction.
His skills were advancing, his body and mind stronger by the day.
But beneath the numbers, something else stirred—a warmth, a connection to Ming Xue that he couldn't name.
It was a spark, small but growing, and it left him wondering what lay ahead.
As the final day of his training dawned, the air felt heavier, charged with an unspoken tension.
Shen Yue stood at his window, gazing at the estate's stone walls.
Beyond them, the world was shifting—patrols moving in the distance, their armor glinting under the dawn.
The winds of fate were stirring, carrying whispers of trials that would test everything he had built.
He clenched his fists, a fire igniting in his chest.
Whatever came next, he would face it head-on.