“Little Spider, lock the door.”
Lin Hao issued the command as he stepped into Zhao Ling’er’s private chamber. Wolf Spider leapt from his pocket, shooting two silken threads to yank the door shut. With practiced efficiency, it crawled up the strands and slid the bolt into place.
The inner chamber carried Ling’er’s signature scent—jasmine and frost. Lin Hao picked up the leather-bound tome on her bed, the Kung Fu Fly perching on his shoulder to magnify the text.
Compendium of Spells—Copied from Tianyan Academy.
Lin Hao’s eyebrows rose. Tianyan Academy, the empire’s premier institution for mages, had recently admitted Ling’er. This manual, gifted by an examiner, contained foundational theories on spellcraft.
He flipped through pages detailing elemental runes, spiritual energy manipulation, and meditation techniques. Diagrams of hand seals and meridian pathways unfolded like a roadmap to power.
So this is how mages harness ambient qi.
Recalling Ling’er’s bathhouse ritual, he mimicked the finger motions described for a basic fire rune. His Ultimate Talent for cultivation ignited—spiritual energy surged around him, resonating like a tuning fork.
A flicker of flame coalesced above his palm. Though barely thumbnail-sized, its heat prickled his skin.
Success!
Footsteps approached. Lin Hao snapped the book shut, vanished the flame, and hurried to unbolt the door.
Zhao Ling’er stood framed in moonlight, her beauty sharpened by suspicion. “Why was this locked?”
Lin Hao feigned unease. “The venomous spider… I feared it might slip in.”
Ling’er’s gaze swept the room, lingering on the undisturbed bed. Her lips tightened with disdain. Pathetic.
“Stay vigilant,” she said coldly, turning away.
Lin Hao bowed his head, hiding a smirk. Behind him, Wolf Spider crept from the shadows, mandibles glistening with unspent venom.
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Alone again, Lin Hao resumed meditation. Spiritual energy flooded his senses, a vast ocean awaiting command. The Kung Fu Fly’s vision projected fire rune schematics into his mind.
Ding! Host masters elementary fire manipulation. Talent synergy activated: Pyro Control proficiency +15%
A fist-sized fireball erupted from his palm, illuminating the chamber. Lin Hao extinguished it with a thought. Too bright. Adjust output.
He practiced until dawn, flames shrinking to pinpricks—invisible yet lethal.
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In the Zhao family’s ancestral hall, Ling’er reviewed ledgers by candlelight. Her quill paused mid-column.
That blind fool… Why does his presence itch like an unsolved riddle?
She dismissed the thought. Tomorrow’s carriage to Tianyan Academy demanded preparation. Soon, this provincial cage would shatter.
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Let the cripple cower in locked rooms. Her future gleamed brighter than any spellfire.
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Lin Hao watched the Fly’s feed—Ling’er’s midnight study, her furrowed brow. He traced a water rune in the air, conjuring a mist that blurred his silhouette.
Ding! Host comprehends elementary water obfuscation. Stealth applications unlocked.
The Wolf Spider skittered across the ceiling, spinning a web of silken tripwires.
Patience, Lin Hao mused, extinguishing the mist. Let her chase academic glory. I’ll claim the shadows.
By the time Ling’er learned the truth, he’d be untouchable—a phantom wielding beasts and elements alike.
The candle guttered out. Somewhere in the estate, a servant screamed at a “venomous” housefly.
Lin Hao smiled. Let the games begin.
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The Fire Rune
“Two more months, and I’ll be free.”
Zhao Ling’er gazed at the moonlight filtering through her window, anticipation coloring her voice. To her, Lin Hao was nothing but a pebble on her path to greatness—soon to be kicked aside.
Lin Hao, lying on his thin pallet in the outer chamber, caught her murmured words through the Kung Fu Fly’s surveillance. A cold smile curled his lips. Let her dream. With the system awakening his potential, the day of reckoning would arrive sooner than she expected.
Ling’er swept into the inner chamber, her sharp eyes immediately locking onto the Compendium of Spells resting on her pillow. “Did you touch this?”
Lin Hao feigned nonchalance. “The venomous spider alert had me worried. I checked every corner—including your bed.”
Her fingers tightened on the book. The manual’s reversed orientation hadn’t escaped her notice. “Never enter my quarters again,” she snapped, frost crackling in her tone. “Our marriage is a farce. In two months, I’ll issue a divorce decree and return double your dowry.”
Double? Rage simmered beneath Lin Hao’s calm facade. No amount of gold could mend shredded pride. “As you wish,” he replied flatly, unrolling his bedding with deliberate slowness.
Ling’er watched him settle onto the floor, perplexed by his lack of outrage. Father was right—weaklings have no spine. The thought solidified her contempt as she retreated behind the carved partition.
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Moonlight bled through lattice windows as Ling’er changed into vermilion silk sleep robes, unaware of the Kung Fu Fly observing from a shadowed corner. Lin Hao’s mind flickered with the Fly’s feed—pearl-pale shoulders, the dip of a collarbone—yet stirred nothing but resolve.
Beautiful, but poisonous. He redirected focus to his true purpose.
In the inner chamber, Ling’er sat cross-legged on her bed, entering deep meditation. The air around her shimmered faintly—testament to her fourth-tier mage prowess.
If she’s this diligent, I can’t afford slackness. Lin Hao sat up, centering his breath. His fledgling spiritual senses reached outward, intertwining with ambient qi. Fire rune patterns from the stolen manual burned in his memory.
Fingers danced. Invisible threads of psychic energy wove through darkness, sketching a primal sigil. Heat prickled his palms as the symbol ignited—a fist-sized orb of flame hovering above his hand.
Ding! Host masters elementary fire manipulation. Talent synergy activated: Pyro Control proficiency +25%
The fireball pulsed, its golden light flooding the outer chamber.
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Ling’er’s eyes snapped open. “Who—?!”
She burst through the partition to find Lin Hao feigning sleep, the room devoid of magical residue. Her gaze swept over his still form, suspicion warring with logic.
A blind cripple... casting fire spells? Preposterous. Yet the lingering warmth in the air contradicted her certainty.
“Explain this,” she demanded, voice sharp as winter ice.
Lin Hao stirred lazily. “Explain what? A nightmare?”
Her flawless features tightened. For a heartbeat, she almost believed him—until the Fly’s wings hummed near her ear.
Swat.
Ling’er’s palm connected with nothing. The insect zipped behind a curtain as she glared at empty air. “Filthy pests.”
Lin Hao hid a smirk beneath his blanket. Let her hunt phantoms. Each passing hour saw him stronger, while her arrogance blinded her to the serpent coiling beneath the Zhao family’s roof.
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Dawn approached. Ling’er resumed meditation, unaware her husband now mentally rehearsed advanced runes. The Kung Fu Fly traced glowing patterns only he could see—ice daggers, wind blades, earth spikes.
Two months. Lin Hao’s fingers twitched, etching phantom symbols into moonlight. Let’s see who discards whom.
Somewhere in the city, a gambling den owner awoke screaming, a venomous spider nesting in his beard. The Wolf Spider’s latest contract—50,000 gold—had been fulfilled before breakfast.
Gold meant evolution. Evolution meant power.
And power, Lin Hao mused as Ling’er’s qi fluctuations echoed through the wall, would be the sweetest revenge of all.