Chương 105: 1.103 In Which Ning Attempts Character Development

"An unfamiliar ceiling," Ning mumbled as he opened his eyes to the white ceiling above him. It was a classic line, one that carried quite a bit of weight. It was practically mandatory whenever someone got isekai'd. Given the sudden genre shift from peacefully farming spiritual grain to fighting terrifying old monsters in the depths of a sealed prison, Ning figured his situation probably qualified for a second use. Besides, the line had another purpose.

Characters also tended to say it after waking up in recovery, usually after surviving some major battle or finishing an entire arc half-dead. Ning had certainly done both. So, really, he was invoking the trope properly. Hopefully, that meant the arc was officially over, and he hadn't left any important pieces of himself behind in that prison. Come on, cliché. Do your job. Ning cheered himself on internally. Frankly, the fact that his mind was already this clear probably meant his brain hadn't taken serious damage.

A little delirious, maybe, but Ning was willing to call delirium a respectable compromise under the circumstances. Then he noticed a familiar shape perched in a patch of sunlight angled just right to catch its feathers and make them shine brightly. Who else could it be but Fenghuang?

"Fenghuang," Ning called out softly. The raven's head snapped toward him. For one breath, his golden-white eyes widened. Then he spread his wings and flew to the side of the bed, landing with far more grace than Ning could ever give him credit for. Was Fenghuang also practicing the art of a graceful entrance? Knowing Fenghuang as he did, Ning would not put it past the bird.

Fenghuang's sharp gaze swept over him from head to toe, examining his face, his breathing, the bandages beneath his robe, and the faint medicinal glow around his body. Then Fenghuang cocked his head.

"Caw."

"Well, now you're just sounding judgmental." Ning's White Flame Raven speak had already developed quite well, not only due to the sheer closeness with the bird but also because of the contract. The contract gave the beast master a kind of intuition about what the spiritual beast was saying. Hearing Ning, Fenghuang looked away. His feathers puffed up slightly, as if denying the accusation. Ning smiled softly.

"I missed you too." Fenghuang turned his head even farther away, not dignifying a response. Then he opened his beak and let out a clear cry. The sharp call rang through the room, carried out the open window, and echoed across the courtyard beyond. A moment later, hurried footsteps approached. The door opened, and Ling Yinran stepped in. She looked tired, but the moment she saw Ning awake, relief brightened her face.

"Junior Brother. You're awake." Ning turned his eyes toward her and gave a small smile.

"Senior Sister. Thank you for taking care of me. I must have been quite a handful." Ning understood the extent of his injuries; that was why he wasn't moving at all. Especially since he'd seen the panel and understood how much his body had suffered. Ling Yinran walked closer and shook her head.

"That's just my job as a senior sister." Then she glanced at Fenghuang, who had already returned to his proud, unmoved posture beside the bed.

"Besides, Fenghuang has been looking after you for the past three days." Ning blinked.

"Three days?" Of course. He had invoked the unfamiliar ceiling after surviving a major arc trope. Naturally, that came with the complimentary three-day coma.

"You were unconscious for three days," Ling Yinran said, her voice softening.

"Fenghuang barely left your side after we brought you back." The White Flame Raven immediately turned his head toward the window, as if whatever was happening outside was suddenly far more important than this conversation. Ling Yinran smiled faintly.

"At first, during the chaos, he refused to leave your farm. No matter how loud the alarms became or how many beasts broke loose, he stayed there and defended the fields. Some corrupted spirit beasts tried to get in, but Fenghuang burned them back every time. Even when disciples came to evacuate the area, he wouldn't follow them." Ning's expression softened. Ling Yinran continued, "Only when we brought you back injured did he finally leave the farm.

After that, he followed you here and stayed in this room the entire time." Fenghuang gave a quiet huff. Ning looked at the bird. The bird continued staring outside with intense interest, as if he had nothing to do with any of this. Ling Yinran's eyes softened further.

"I'm just glad you're okay." Ning lay there in bed, body aching beneath the blankets, but his smile deepened slightly.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"Me too." Fenghuang shifted closer, his wings drawing nearer.

"Oh? Did I come at a good time?" The familiar voice came from the doorway. Si Sihua, his long-time acquaintance from the General Affairs counter, stood there watching them with obvious interest. She looked about the same as Ning remembered: plain clothes, no jewelry, and nothing particularly elaborate about her appearance. Even her hair was simply tied back. Ning respected the commitment. Minimalist fashion really suited someone whose greatest ambition in life was to become a well-paid salted fish.

Beside her came another woman. In only a glance, Ning immediately understood their relationship. She had a face similar to Si Sihua's, though sharper and more mature. She wore pale green robes with white inner sleeves, and a jade case hung at her waist, engraved with a silver needle crossing a medicinal leaf. The woman walked straight to Ning's bedside and pressed two fingers against his wrist before he could even speak.

"You shouldn't move in your condition." Ning blinked, then nodded politely.

"I came to the same conclusion, Senior."

"Good. Keep being wise. There are plenty of idiots in the sect who trust their bodies too much and try to move the moment they get the chance." The woman closed her eyes and sent a thin thread of spiritual sense through his wrist, checking his innards.

"Your body has suffered a lot from what you went through. Extreme qi exhaustion, multiple impact injuries, meridian strain, and traces of forced external energy flooding." Ning stared at the ceiling.

"That sounds about right." The woman opened her eyes and gave him a flat look.

"I also heard that you had to forcibly channel spiritual energy from the ritual into your body to support your technique." Ning was silent for a moment.

"Um, it was a very... particular situation." At the time, Ning had pushed himself for several reasons, one of which was simple self-preservation. Xiao Fan might have looked like the one in greater danger, but Ning wasn't exactly safe either. If Lei Shen possessed Xiao Fan, who knew what would happen to the unfortunate friend standing beside the protagonist? Ning had no intention of becoming the tragic death that pushed Xiao Fan toward his next breakthrough. So he'd given it everything he had.

Si Sihua clicked her tongue from behind the doctor.

"Tsk, tsk. This is what happens when people work too hard. If you hadn't gone to the tower and taken part in the trials, none of this would have happened." The doctor slowly turned her head.

"Sihua." Si Sihua looked innocent.

"Yes, Mother?" Ning's eyes shifted. As expected, she was Si Xun, Si Sihua's mother.

"You were the one who came running to my room and told me to hurry over when Ling Xin requested help." Si Sihua nodded shamelessly.

"Yes. That was me."

"You said, 'Mother, Ning is dying, probably, maybe, I'm not sure, but Senior Ling Xin looks like she's about to burn the mountain down, so please come before we all suffer.'" Si Sihua gave Ning a thumbs-up.

"You're welcome." Si Xun sighed. There wasn't even a hint of embarrassment on Si Sihua's face. Normally, girls her age would be embarrassed in such a situation, but clearly, shame was a burden Si Sihua had no desire to carry.

"I see," Ning said sincerely.

"Thank you. When I recover, I'll bring you your favorites." Si Sihua's eyes brightened.

"I want ice cream, cakes, muffins, and a whole lot of goodies then." Hearing that, Ling Yinran's lips twitched.

"You certainly have a colorful group of friends, Junior Brother. Many people came to visit you as well, Zhang Feng, Wei Zhuang, Lang Ruolang, and others. They wished for your swift recovery and even brought presents to help you get well soon." The moment Ning heard "presents," his eyes brightened. Currently, he was in a state of extreme poverty after the last battle, so hearing about gifts made him perk up like finding a really cool stick lying randomly on the ground.

"It's good to hear that." Ning smiled, then looked at Si Xun, who looked like she had long given up on correcting her daughter in public. Ning paused, then asked carefully, "I will recover from those injuries, right?" You know, getting a list of ailments with no talk of recovery was starting to make even him nervous. Was he getting permanently nerfed or something? He hoped not.

"Don't worry, Ning. As long as Mother is here, you'll be taken care of quickly so you can fulfill my demands." Truly, that was Si Sihua, a woman with dreams of laziness and good snacks. Ning could respect that, after going through the ordeal he'd been through.

"Your condition is stable overall. Most of your external injuries are already healing well, including the cuts, bruises, and muscle strains. The internal injuries are more troublesome, especially the damage to your meridians, but we gave you a third-tier healing pill shortly after you were brought here. With enough rest, you should make a full recovery." Ning relaxed slightly at that. Thankfully, he lived in xianxialand, where getting beaten half to death was practically an occupational hazard.

With the sheer amount of fighting cultivators did, it was only natural that their medical technology had advanced accordingly. If nothing else, this world had become very good at putting people back together after they tried their hardest to break each other. Ling Yinran sat down beside the bed and reassured him.

"Senior Xun is an accomplished spiritual doctor. If she says you'll recover, then you will recover." Ning nodded. He knew the profession, of course, though he had dealt far more with alchemists than spiritual doctors. The difference was fairly simple. Alchemists made medicine; spiritual doctors treated people.

An alchemist could refine a pill capable of healing shattered bones or damaged meridians, but a spiritual doctor knew how to diagnose the injury, guide the medicinal power where it was needed, and make sure the patient recovered properly. They dealt directly with the body, meridians, qi, and even the soul when necessary. Ning had always respected spiritual doctors. Mostly because they seemed to be among the few cultivators who genuinely understood the principle of please don't make the injury worse.

He had seen his master's approach to healing. Ling Xin was an excellent alchemist. Ning had absolute confidence in that. But he would still take the spiritual doctor. Si Xun withdrew her fingers from his wrist.

"Now, while you will recover, your meridians are the part I'm concerned about." Ning's attention sharpened.

"You're suffering from what we call Spirit Channel Overstrain. Your meridians were forced to carry far more energy than they were prepared for, especially when you drew that foreign ritual energy into your body while your own qi was nearly exhausted." She took out a slim jade slip from her sleeve.

"There are also signs of Meridian Heat-Fracture. Nothing has actually cracked, fortunately, but your channels are swollen and unstable. If you circulate qi too aggressively before they heal, temporary damage could become permanent." Ning immediately became serious.

"Understood."

"For the next seven days, no forceful cultivation and no high-output techniques. Your meridians were already showing signs of being overworked even before this happened, so that includes your normal cultivation as well. Rest properly for once." Si Xun looked at him sternly. Ning merely smiled back as the very picture of innocence. He even blinked innocently for good measure. Si Xun's eyes narrowed. Ning immediately straightened his expression.

"Understood." Si Sihua leaned toward Ling Yinran and whispered, "That means he's absolutely not going to listen. He's just pretending."

"I can hear you, you know," Ning said, looking at the peanut gallery.

"That was intentional," Si Sihua replied without the slightest hint of embarrassment.

"Someone has to stop you from overworking yourself."

"You should take things slowly, Junior Brother," Ling Yinran added gently.

"Senior Si Xun is right."

"... Okay," Ning said after a brief pause. There really wasn't anything else he could say. Si Xun continued, "You'll be in frequent pain for several days. Your meridians need rest. I'll leave Meridian-Soothing Paste, three bottles of Gentle Channel Pills, and a Soul-Calming Incense stick. Use them as instructed. If you feel stabbing pain in your dantian, numbness in your limbs, burning in your eyes, or any mental hallucinations, call someone immediately." Ning blinked.

"Is the last one common?"

"Well, that just means whatever you went through has sown the seed for inner demons. You do know what inner demons are, right?" Si Xun asked. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Um." Ning smiled bitterly. Not only did he know about inner demons, but he'd also experienced them firsthand, and the experience hadn't been pleasant at all. Si Xun's expression softened slightly.

"Fortunately, you practice a meridian-strengthening body technique. I examined the trace. Jade Skin and Icy Meridians, yes?" Ning nodded.

"That saved you considerable trouble. If your meridians had been ordinary, the ritual energy would have torn several of them open. The icy property helped reduce spiritual inflammation, and the strengthening effect kept the channels from collapsing under sudden pressure." Ning felt sincere gratitude toward his past self. Cultivating in the cold during the yin hour had been miserable, but at least it had saved his life. Truly, the way of grind continued to help him even now.

Si Xun then said, "There may even be benefits once you recover." Ning's eyes moved.

"Benefits?"

"Like being able to make me food," Si Sihua spoke up. Si Xun ignored her daughter and looked at Ning.

"You know the different conditions of meridians, yes?" Ning thought for a moment.

"Roughly. Ordinary meridians are the natural state. Reinforced meridians are strengthened through body cultivation or medicine. Spirit-tempered meridians can endure higher qi density and faster circulation. Elemental meridians carry a stable attribute, such as ice, fire, thunder, or wood. Jade Skin and Icy Meridians should be pushing mine toward ice-tempered reinforced meridians." Si Xun nodded, pleased by Ning's knowledge.

Her daughter had told her that Ning spent a great deal of time studying and rarely passed up a chance to learn something new. She had thought Sihua was exaggerating a little, but it seemed the boy really was that diligent.

"That's correct. At higher stages, some people develop Crystal Meridians, where the channels become extremely pure and resilient, capable of carrying dense true essence without turbulence. Beyond that are rarer states like Dao-Patterned Meridians, usually formed only through special physiques, inheritances, or repeated tempering by extreme forces." Si Xun added. Ning listened seriously. As he had said before, everything in this world had a tier system, even the meridians.

At this point, Ning was just waiting to discover that cultivators had somehow developed a ranking system for breathing. Actually, considering Turtle Breathing existed, they probably had. Though if Senior Si Xun was already talking about these advanced meridians, did that mean his own meridians had upgraded? Si Xun tapped his wrist lightly.

"Your meridians aren't there, of course. Don't get excited."

"... okay." Ning just sighed. What had he been expecting anyway? Suddenly getting a power-up like that was reserved for the protagonist. But in the end, Ning quickly let go of that frustration. He was just happy that, while he wasn't getting some superpower, his body could recover healthily. One had to learn to be content with what one got. Ning was greedy, yes, but his greed wasn't biblical. yet. Si Xun continued, "However, meridians can become tougher after being pushed to their limits and properly healed.

Think of it as a dangerous form of tempering. I wouldn't recommend it, and you certainly shouldn't try to repeat it, but since the damage has already been done, we might as well make sure you gain something from it."

"So as long as you suffer, you get stronger." Ning nodded solemnly. That was perhaps the most cultivation-world thing he had heard all day. Si Sihua spoke from the side.

"And that is precisely why I avoid working too hard. The heavens clearly reward suffering, and I refuse to encourage such a terrible system." Ning almost laughed, but his ribs warned him not to. Si Xun's gaze shifted toward Si Sihua.

"... speaking of avoiding work." Si Sihua's smile froze.

"Mother-""You should learn from this." Si Sihua slowly turned toward the door, clearly ready to escape. Si Xun's voice remained calm.

"You have enough talent and are on the verge of breaking through to the seventh stage of Qi Condensation, yet you spend every day leisurely. You want to muddle through life, avoid responsibility, and retire before even achieving anything worth retiring from." Si Sihua looked at Ning with pleading eyes. Ning looked back at her, and then smiled. And what a treacherous smile that was. Si Sihua's expression became one of deep betrayal. Si Xun pointed at Ning.

"Look at him. He's younger than you, has achieved more than you, entered the inner sect, became a direct disciple of senior Ling Xin, made a name for himself, fought enemies above his realm, and now half the sect is talking about him." Ning spoke weakly.

"In fairness, I'd like less of that last part." Si Xun ignored him. Si Sihua muttered, "Mother, I did defeat one of the criminals that came into the mission hall, though." Si Xun just stared at Si Sihua blankly.

"You used a second-tier talisman to evaporate some mid-stage Qi Condensation cultivator without any care."

"Um, isn't it natural to use your strongest attack when you're up against an enemy? Not to mention, with that single move I was able to defeat the enemy with ease." Si Sihua grumbled.

"Ask Ning; he'd approve of this." Si Xun looked at Ning. Normally, Ning would have withdrawn his support immediately. He'd just seen how scary spiritual doctors could be, okay? As long as they merely touched someone's wrist, they could understand everything about that person's body; making one an enemy sounded like nothing but trouble. But Ning just said, "I'm just glad Senior Sister Si Sihua is okay." The moment he said that, the trio of women fell silent. Ning blinked.

"What?"

"Damn it, your smoothness," Si Sihua said, breaking the silence first.

"Ning, you really need to control that." Ling Yinran finally understood why her junior brother had accumulated quite so many female friends. Meanwhile, Si Xun just glanced at Ning, her thoughts unknown.

"But regardless, I do hope Senior Sister improves her cultivation as well. On this matter, I support Senior Si Xun," Ning said calmly. Si Sihua stared at him in disbelief.

"Ning," she said slowly, as if she'd just watched him stab her in broad daylight, "I thought we were friends."

"We are."

"Then why are you helping my mother kill my peaceful future?" Si Xun's eyes narrowed. Si Sihua immediately corrected herself.

"I mean, lovingly guide my peaceful future into a busier and more productive direction." Ning looked at her with sympathy, but not enough sympathy to change sides.

"But if I improve too quickly, people will start expecting things from me," Si Sihua said, pointing at him as though this were somehow his fault.

"Ranking challenges, promotion assessments, inner sect duties... Mother might even decide I'm ready to handle more of the family business." Her expression grew increasingly grave.

"Do you know what all of that means?"

"Greater income?" Ning asked.

"Work," Si Sihua said, voice heavy with grief.

"It means work."

"Si Sihua," Si Xun said coldly. Ning laughed, but his ribs gave him a sharp warning, so he turned the laugh into a cough and continued in a more serious tone.

"Senior Sister, I understand what you mean. Have I ever said anything about your slacking off before?" Si Sihua thought about it for a moment.

"No, you haven't." She was right about that. Ning had never seen anything wrong with her wanting an easy, peaceful life.

"But after what just happened, staying weak just so you can avoid work doesn't seem like a very good idea." Si Sihua's expression froze.

"The sect won't always be peaceful," Ning said simply.

"If something like this happens again, having a higher cultivation might save your life." The room quieted slightly. Even Si Xun's stern expression eased by a fraction. She let Ning continue putting some sense into her daughter. Ning continued, his voice sincere.

"Your dream is to be a salted fish who only wants to bask in the sun and drift through life, right?" Si Sihua nodded cautiously.

"Yes."

"Then be a strong salted fish." She stared at him. Ning said seriously, "A weak salted fish gets eaten, steamed, fried, or used as emergency rations. A strong salted fish lies wherever it wants, and when someone tries to disturb it, that person learns respect." Si Sihua, however, looked deeply shaken.

"A strong salted fish…" Ning nodded.

"The highest realm of slacking off isn't avoiding responsibility because you can't handle it. It's becoming capable enough that people hesitate before forcing responsibility onto you."

"..." Si Sihua seemed to be taking in this new concept. Of course, Ning knew that wasn't quite how things worked. Competence usually earned you more work. That scam had existed back on Earth too. But the important part was sincere. Sihua wasn't incompetent; she was simply lazy, and Ning had never particularly cared about that. What he cared about was seeing his friend survive the next time something went wrong. He couldn't always be there to help.

He wasn't the protagonist, and the world wasn't going to conveniently arrange for him to arrive whenever one of his friends was in danger. So if Si Sihua wanted to spend her life doing absolutely nothing, Ning fully supported her. He just wanted her to be strong enough to do absolutely nothing safely. Si Xun gave Ning a rather strange look.

"I didn't expect that argument to actually work." It was the first time she'd thought her daughter's laziness could actually be used to further motivate her. Ning smiled faintly from the bed.

"It's just what a friend does."

"Well, Sihua's made a good friend, then," Si Xun said.

"After you're healed, come visit me; I'll prepare a proper meridian-strengthening prescription. That should help you go further along the path of meridian strengthening." Ning blinked.

"That's too generous."

"Just consider it thanks for saving the sect as well. Alright, it's time for us to go now." Si Xun broke her daughter out of her reverie. Ling Yinran walked them to the door and bowed slightly.

"Senior Xun, Junior Sister, once again, thank you for your help."

"That's just my duty." Si Xun nodded to Ling Yinran and Ning and prepared to leave. Si Sihua pointed at Ning.

"Get well soon, and don't forget the snacks. If you forget after convincing me to cultivate, our friendship will suffer a serious qi deviation, I tell you."

"I'll take responsibility."

"Good." Si Xun caught her daughter by the back of the collar before Si Sihua could say anything else and dragged her out with practiced ease. Ling Yinran watched them leave, then closed the door gently behind them. For a moment, the room fell quiet again. Ning let the silence linger for a moment before asking, "Where's Master?" He had been wondering that for a while. Knowing his master, he'd fully expected her to burst through the door at any moment.

"We had to send her away," Ling Yinran replied with a helpless sigh.

"She was... quite difficult to deal with. She insisted on feeding you pills she was absolutely convinced would heal you. Senior Sister Xun had to explain to her that she was only disrupting your recovery." That was definitely another experimental pill, wasn't it? Ning suddenly felt a surge of gratitude toward Ling Yinran.

"... Thank you, Senior Sister." Ling Yinran accepted his thanks with a small nod. Only she knew how difficult it had been to persuade her aunt.

"Right now, she's in seclusion." Ning blinked.

"Seclusion?" Ling Yinran sighed.

"Aunt was furious. When Senior Sister Xun confirmed how badly the ritual energy had damaged your meridians..." She paused, recalling the scene.

"Her expression became... rather frightening." Ning had a bad feeling about where this was going.

"... She didn't burn anything, did she?" Ling Yinran coughed lightly.

"She burned a few criminals." Ning stared at her.

"It was only because several elders managed to convince her that the main culprits had already been captured, sealed, rendered unconscious, or placed under the Sect Master's supervision that she finally calmed down."

"... That sounds like Master." Ning could picture Ling Xin doing exactly that.

"More than that, she was disgusted that the formation and ritual caught her unprepared. She said that as an alchemist, she should have had a pill prepared to protect a disciple's meridians from forced external spiritual energy, a formation to trap her attackers, and even some kind of tracking pill to reach you at once. So she entered seclusion. She said she'll refine something to make sure she's never blindsided like that again."

Ning wanted to feel warm at his master's concern; truly, he did, but right now his master sounded very dangerous.

"Well, once you're awake, I've ordered your favorite spiritual dishes. Eat them and regain some strength. I'll bring them in." Ling Yinran spoke, then left the room.

"Okay." For a while, Ning simply lay there, with Fenghuang comfortably settled beside the bed.

"Maybe I could bring music into this world too," Ning mused amid the quiet. He had already written a novel, so it wasn't that unreasonable. Music was another thing he could introduce without drawing too much attention, and the Heavenly Origin Tower had already shown him that this world possessed instruments and techniques that could make the process much easier. More importantly, music had been a large part of his previous life. He knew plenty of songs, even if singing had never been his greatest talent.

Then again, Ning had always been average to decent at most things. There were very few things he was genuinely terrible at. Dancing was probably one of them. Ning paused.

"Though with a cultivator's body control, maybe that doesn't count anymore." Ning considered it for a moment.

"At the very least, I should be able to pull off a pretty good moonwalk." The thought amused him for a while. Then the room became quiet again. Ning stared at the ceiling, and without another ridiculous idea to occupy his mind, his thoughts inevitably began drifting back toward the past few days. Fenghuang seemed to notice the change. His head turned toward Ning just as the distant look returned to his eyes.

"Caw." Ning glanced at him, then reached over and began stroking his feathers. Perhaps a little more vigorously than necessary.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm fine." Fenghuang continued staring. Ning lasted several seconds before sighing.

"Okay, fine. That shit was scary." Saying it aloud felt strangely relieving. He had survived, certainly, but that didn't mean every risk he had taken had suddenly become a good decision. Too much of it had depended on circumstances he couldn't control. Mei Long could have taken him seriously from the beginning instead of giving him the chance to set up his attack. Lei Shen's remnant soul could have chosen him as a target.

The woman playing Go might have escaped if that white-haired girl hadn't appeared when she did. And those were only the dangers Ning knew about. That was the part that bothered him most. Xiao Fan could stumble into some hidden Foundation Establishment monster and, somehow, Ning could still believe the bastard would crawl out alive with a new inheritance and a tragic backstory attached. Ning had no such confidence in himself.

If there had been one enemy in that prison who was simply too strong for him to deal with, no amount of preparation would have magically balanced the encounter. The sheer amount of bad outcomes he could imagine was astounding. Ning had never considered himself infallible.

That was the kind of mindset that got cultivators killed, especially in worlds where arrogant young masters could trip over one lucky protagonist and somehow turn a single restaurant argument into the extermination of nine clans, three sects, and a feud with some ascended immortal or something. That was exactly why, however little he wanted to relive the experience, he forced himself to sit with it. Only by reviewing everything honestly could he actually improve.

Despite the ache it cost him, Ning petted Fenghuang a little harder. Caw. Fenghuang tilted his head at him.

"Nothing. Just glad we met, is all. You're so fluffy." Ning smiled at the bird, who made a token effort to pull away before giving up and settling back into the petting. Fenghuang was currently the only reliable source of fluff Ning had available, so naturally, the raven found himself being petted even more. Truly, fluff was the pinnacle of comfort. And Ning needed as much comfort as he could get. After all, he had spent most of this arc accidentally becoming the deuteragonist.

Well, accidentally might not be entirely accurate. At the beginning, Ning certainly hadn't planned any of it. There hadn't been some convenient narrator informing him that the Heavenly Origin Tower was the start of a major arc, nor had he entered it thinking about what role he should play. He had simply gone through the trials, tried to get as much as he could from them, and somehow kept matching Xiao Fan's performance while occasionally pulling ahead. In hindsight, that probably should have been his first warning.

By the time the tower descended into chaos and Ning found himself trapped in a prison alongside Xiao Fan, however, the pattern had become difficult to ignore. He had somehow become the deuteragonist of this mess. Once Ning realized that, he made the conscious decision to lean into it. If this really followed some kind of narrative logic, being a random mob beside the protagonist was hardly reassuring.

This wasn't some friendly shounen where background characters could stand around shouting the protagonist's name while he handled everything. This was xianxia. An unlucky mob could die in a single line just to demonstrate how terrifying the new villain was. The deuteragonist wasn't exactly safe either, but at least he usually survived long enough to remain relevant. So Ning had done what he could to reinforce the role.

When the two of them faced Mei Long, Ning had pulled off the classic you go ahead, I'll handle this scene. Thankfully, it had been the version where he sent Xiao Fan toward the danger while Ning stayed behind. If their positions had been reversed, that scene would have carried some extremely concerning sacrificial-secondary-character energy. Ning shuddered. Absolutely not.

Later, he had taken things a step further by revealing Know Thyself to Xiao Fan, even announcing its name with considerably more dramatic flair than necessary. Of course, Ning had no proof that any of this actually mattered. Maybe there were no assigned roles or invisible narrative forces protecting important characters. Maybe he was simply seeing familiar patterns in a chaotic world. But Ning didn't need to prove it.

If recognizing those patterns gave him even a slightly better idea of when to run, when to interfere, or when to make himself seem more important than he really was, then they were useful. He was still alive, after all, and had even walked away with new techniques and opportunities. As far as Ning was concerned, the strategy could remain filed under possibly bullshit, but worth trying. More importantly, the entire ordeal had taught him that avoiding Xiao Fan wouldn't magically keep him safe.

Trouble on the scale protagonists attracted had a nasty habit of swallowing everyone nearby. The sect-wide disaster had made that painfully clear. So Ning needed more than raw strength. Preparation, connections, information, escape methods, useful techniques-anything that could improve his chances mattered. And if the world insisted on behaving like a cultivation novel, Ning saw no reason not to use the clichés himself. Thankfully, there was one thing working in his favor.

Being the deuteragonist didn't have to be permanent. This was xianxia, after all. Outside of the protagonist, almost nobody's narrative importance was guaranteed. Rivals who once occupied entire arcs could disappear for hundreds of chapters. Best friends could be left behind when the protagonist entered a higher realm. Even female leads sometimes vanished from the story for absurd lengths of time. For once, Ning found that particular habit of the genre rather comforting.

The Heavenly Origin Tower was over, the rebellion was over, and Ning was perfectly happy to hand the role of deuteragonist back to whoever wanted it next. He had experienced quite enough plot relevance for one arc. With that settled, Ning continued sorting through everything that had happened, now that he finally had the time to do so. Eventually, his thoughts reached something he had been quietly avoiding. Mei Long. His first real kill.

Ning lay there for a moment, searching himself for whatever reaction was supposed to come with that realization.

"Nothing. I feel... nothing," he mumbled. Now, he wasn't saying this in some edgy killing means nothing to me kind of way. If anything, Ning had taken longer to cross that line than most transmigrators in stories seemed to. He had lived in this world for six years before taking his first human life, and it certainly wasn't because the cultivation world had lacked opportunities. Ning had simply avoided crossing that line whenever he had another reasonable choice. This time, he hadn't.

Still, he had been prepared for the possibility. Ning suspected part of the reason people struggled with their first kill was that they had never truly expected to take a life until the moment arrived. Ning had spent years knowing that day would eventually come.

He was already accustomed to blood and gore from hunting, but more importantly, from the moment he'd truly accepted that this was a cultivation world-not entertainment, not fiction, but the life he now had to live-he'd understood that killing might one day become unavoidable. So he had prepared himself for it. Not because he wanted to kill, but because he didn't want his first necessary kill to break him afterward. And Mei Long, frankly, had been a very considerate first entry into that category.

The man had practically walked onto the moral stage carrying a sign that read unrepentant threat to everyone nearby. So no, Ning didn't feel shattered. But that didn't mean he could ignore what came next. This was a world where killing was easy. Too easy.

A world where strength could turn murder into a footnote, where elders could erase disciples, where young masters could slaughter servants over a matter of face, where protagonists could wipe out entire clans and readers would cheer because the clan had been rude first. Ning had always found that part of xianxia disturbing. Not the violence itself; violence made sense in a dangerous world. The disturbing part was how quickly people became numbers.

From one to ten, ten to a hundred, a hundred to a sect, a sect to a nation, to entire worlds. Ning didn't want to reach the point where a hundred deaths meant less to him than one simply because the number had grown too large to think about individually. Every one of those people had their own life, their own path, and their own possibilities. Killing ended all of that. Sometimes, it was necessary. Ning wasn't naive enough to believe otherwise.

Leaving the wrong person alive could invite revenge, ambushes, poison, or simply give them another opportunity to hurt someone. But necessity and indifference were two very different things. Similarly, killing mindlessly would lead to killing a son, then a father, then a grandfather, then an ancestor, and who knew where it would end. So Ning needed a line. Not one so soft that it made him hesitate when killing was truly necessary, but not one so loose that he gradually stopped caring altogether.

He needed to keep a healthy mindset throughout it all. Of course, Ning couldn't draw that line right now. There probably wasn't some universal rule he could decide on while lying in bed and then follow for the rest of his life. Different situations would demand different choices, and when the time came, he would have to rely on his own judgment and common sense.

"No wonder the Dao Heart is considered so important." Ning got a headache just thinking about it. Caw Fenghuang, who had been quietly enjoying the attention, raised his head and gave a questioning caw.

"It's nothing. I simply have to do what I have to do." Ning sighed. That was the Dao of Grind, after all. Ning didn't expect to figure everything out in a single day. He would make mistakes, learn from them, adjust, and keep moving forward. The person he was today didn't need to be perfect. He simply needed to be better prepared than the person who had entered the Heavenly Origin Tower. For now, that was enough.... Thanks for reading~