Here is the English translation of the text, adapted to preserve the dark atmosphere and the specific terminology of the Xianxia and LitRPG genres:
The hut greeted Xuan Li with a piercing chill and the smell of damp wood. Sliding the heavy wooden deadbolt shut, he slumped powerlessly onto the stiff mat. His left arm still throbbed with a dull, exhausting pain, but the Scar's poison was completely purged. The first problem was solved. Now he had to deal with the second—his disastrous slowness.
Outside, through the cracks in the dried-out boards, came the echoes of an approaching storm. The Outer Peak was buzzing like an agitated beehive. The shouts of on-duty disciples, the clashing of weapons, and the heavy stomping of the Disciplinary Hall patrols carried through the night air. Uncle Zhao Ming had unleashed his hounds, blinding them with a bounty of a thousand spirit stones. The youth had only a few hours left before the guards would start kicking down the doors of every outer disciple's shack.
Xuan Li pulled a decrepit bamboo scroll, crumbling in his hands, from his robes.
"System," he mentally addressed the ring. "Scan this. I need this technique, and I need it right now."
A translucent neon-blue interface instantly flared before his eyes. A red scanning beam swept across the faded characters.
[Object analysis complete. Scroll: "Seven Steps of the Phantom Willow". Type: Spatial Displacement.] [Warning: Data structural integrity — 40%. 60% of the base algorithm is missing. Initiating heuristic analysis and node reconstruction.]
Xuan Li frowned, mentally snagging on the unfamiliar phrase. "Heuristic analysis? What kind of nonsense is that? Explain."
[Answer: A problem-solving process using probability matching based on the fundamental laws of space. Translation into the host's conceptual language: The System will recreate the missing pieces of the technique through trial and error directly on your meridians.] [Warning: The host's hardware is not adapted. Critical pain syndrome is expected. Risk of pain shock: 87%.]
"Very reassuring," Li gave a crooked smirk. "Run it. Pain doesn't scare me anymore."
[Command confirmed. Initiating firmware overwrite.]
The ring on his finger burned his skin with an otherworldly cold. In the next instant, the world ceased to exist for Xuan Li.
This was nothing like the soft, healing warmth of the Steel Boar's core. On a spiritual level, the magic of the ancient artifact began to ruthlessly tear open the closed, dried-out meridians in his legs. Qi energy, like a white-hot tungsten wire, stitched through his flesh from the inside, forcefully forging new energy channels. The System was stitching together the torn, centuries-lost fragments of the ancient spell, using the youth's body as a testing ground.
Xuan Li collapsed on his side, convulsively gasping the stale air. He didn't scream—he only bit into his own sleeve so hard that a distinct metallic taste of blood blossomed in his mouth. The muscles in his legs twitched unnaturally as a monstrous force compelled his Qi to move against its natural current.
[Reconstruction progress: 34%... Micro-tears in muscle tissue detected. Activating compensatory factor...]
Xuan Li felt the remnants of the Shadow Panther's essence, hidden deep within his core, burning up to instantly heal the blood vessels tearing under the pressure of the new technique. The System was literally forcing his nervous system and muscles to memorize the perfect movements, hammering the instincts of ancient masters straight into his subconscious.
Time lost all meaning. Every second dragged on like hours of torture.
[Reconstruction progress: 99%... 100%.] [Optimization of energy circuits complete. Skill integrated: "Seven Steps of the Phantom Willow" (Earth Rank — Peak). Basic Mastery.]
The pain receded just as abruptly as it had surged. Xuan Li, breathing heavily, slowly braced his hands against the floor and stood up. His clothes were soaked through with cold sweat, but inside his legs, within the freshly forged, wide channels, a dense, icy energy pulsed. He felt incredibly light, as if gravity in the hut had suddenly been cut in half.
At that moment, the crunch of a breaking branch and heavy footsteps sounded outside.
"Hey, Li! Trash, did you die in there or what? Open up!" a painfully familiar, hoarse voice rang out.
A boot slammed forcefully into the flimsy door, knocking dust from the ceiling. Judging by the arrogant aura, it was one of the very gate guards to whom Li had given his three measly spirit stones. Greed and the thirst for profit had done their work: the guard had put two and two together, realized that the beaten "loser" had returned from the forest right when the young master was killed there, and came to collect his thousand stones.
"Break the door down, he's probably hiding under the bed," added a second, higher-pitched voice.
Xuan Li didn't panic. There wasn't a drop of human emotion in his gaze, only the cold calculation of a predator. He looked at the thick shadow cast by an old cabinet against the wall.
[Threat analysis: Two targets. 4th and 5th stage of Body Tempering. Armed with standard Order halberds.]
"System, first step," Li commanded soundlessly.
[Spatial coordinate synchronization initiated.]
No long stances or chanting mantras. The moment his thought formed, the restored algorithm itself directed the Qi along the required trajectories.
Xuan Li took a step.
To an ordinary observer, he simply blurred in the air, like a ripple on the surface of water. The technique's magic distorted space, allowing the youth to silently glide along the edge of the shadow. There was no sound of footsteps, not the slightest tremor in the air.
With a deafening crack, the hut's rotten door flew off its hinges, kicked in by the guard's powerful boot. The burly brute tumbled inside with a predatory grin, raising his halberd, ready to see a cripple trembling with fear.
But the room was empty.
The guard's smile faltered as a figure in gray robes materialized from an absolutely pitch-black corner right beside him. The mathematically perfect displacement was complete. Xuan Li was already standing there, smoothly drawing his jagged, dried-blood-crusted dagger from beneath his robes.
Dull incomprehension flashed in the burly guard's eyes as his heavy boot landed on the empty mat. Xuan Li didn't give him time to process it.
[Vulnerability analysis: Exposed area under the right collarbone. Armor displaced due to the strike's momentum. Recommendation: Upward thrust.]
In the real world, this meant the ancient ring's magic faintly highlighted a pulsing spiritual node on the enemy's body, instantly calculating the perfect trajectory through the joints of the cheap armor.
Li's jagged dagger went in smoothly, like a knife through butter. The guard gurgled, dropped his heavy halberd, and slumped heavily onto the wooden floor, frantically clutching the spurting wound.
The second guard—scrawny, with shifty eyes—froze at the threshold. Seeing the very "trash" they had mocked that evening literally materialize from the shadows, he recoiled in primal terror.
"D-demon! He's a demon!" he shrieked, spinning around to bolt and raise the alarm.
"System, second step!" Li commanded coldly, stepping over the convulsing body.
[Spatial coordinate synchronization... Error: Insufficient RAM. Cooldown required.]
"RAM? Cooldown? What kind of gibberish are you spouting?!" Li snapped back mentally, feeling his legs suddenly seized by an icy spasm, rooting him to the floor. The spatial Qi refused to obey.
[Answer: Cooldown is the cooling period for your spiritual channels. Translation: Your 6th stage of Body Tempering is too weak to sustain continuous displacement magic. Your meridians need time to recover. Wait three breaths.]
Three breaths was an eternity in a real fight. The scrawny guard had already drawn in a deep breath so his scream would be heard across the entire Outer Peak.
Xuan Li didn't wait for mercy from his cooling meridians. With a sharp movement, he snatched the first guard's dropped halberd from the floor. His muscles, enhanced by the sixth stage and the panther's core, bulged with tension. Li hurled the heavy polearm like a common spear, putting all his raw physical strength into the throw.
The blunt end of the thick shaft struck the fugitive between the shoulder blades with such force that it launched the scrawny man outside, straight into a muddy puddle in front of the hut. The sickening crunch of a snapped spine cut the scream short before it could even leave his lips.
Xuan Li slowly walked out of the shack, stepping over the debris of the door. The cold pre-dawn wind hit his face. Two dead. The thousand spirit stones for his head would remain sitting in Uncle Zhao's bottomless pockets.
[Combat encounter complete. Threat elimination efficiency: 82%. Inefficient use of heavy weaponry detected.] [Recommendation: In the future, avoid throwing a hundred-kilogram halberd at a target that weighs half as much as the weapon. It is unesthetic and disrupts Qi balance.]
Li wiped his bloody hands on a clean section of his robes and gave a crooked smirk. "You're going to critique my manners now, too?"
[Answer: The System lacks a sense of beauty. The System is merely stating a fact: the impact bent the halberd and ruined its market value. You have just deprived yourself of potential profit.]
Xuan Li just shook his head. The jokes were over.
Somewhere very close, literally two narrow streets away, bright torchlights flared, and an authoritative voice, amplified by dense Qi, rang out:
"Cordon off this sector! Check every shack, drag everyone out! The Disciplinary Hall will not leave until we find the young master's killer!"
Xuan Li glanced over the two fresh corpses at his doorstep. It was too late to cover his tracks—the smell of blood was already hanging in the air. Staying here meant certain death; the Inner Court was rapidly tightening the noose of the manhunt. He needed to disappear, preferably somewhere even Elder Zhao Wuji's chain hounds would be afraid to stick their noses.
He slipped his healthy right hand into his robes and felt the cold, dark metal of a token bearing a grinning skull—a trophy taken from a dead mercenary. A pass into the Underground Guild of the Southern Provinces.
There was no choice left. From this moment on, the Shadows had to become his new home. Turning around, Xuan Li dissolved into the pre-dawn fog, leaving his hut behind forever.
The fog thickened, creeping along the ground in ragged, cold wisps. The Outer Peak behind him had fully awakened, turning into a disturbed anthill. Flashes of search artifacts and torchlight sliced through the darkness, and the voices of the Disciplinary Hall elders, amplified by magic, echoed off the cliffs.
"System, scan the perimeter. Plot a route with the lowest concentration of auras," Li commanded on the run.
[Routing. 14 mobile groups detected. Optimal evasion vector: through the Weeping Wind Gorge. Probability of detection — 12%.]
A dim projection of the sect flared before Xuan Li's inner eye. His spiritual vision, enhanced by the ancient artifact, picked out the glowing dots of enemies—clusters of foreign, aggressive Qi moving through the streets, and between them lay a narrow, dark path, clear of patrols.
Without hesitation, the youth turned into a blind alley. His lungs burned, his left arm throbbed dully with every step, but he moved forward with the single-mindedness of a ghost. Whenever he had to cross open areas, he activated the "Seven Steps of the Phantom Willow" again. After three breaths of rest, his meridians had time to cool down slightly, allowing him to make another dash and vanish into the shadows right under the noses of the passing guards.
After half an hour of exhausting running, the noise of the sect was left far behind. Li stood at the very edge of a precipice, where the territory of the Blazing Plum Order abruptly ended, giving way to wild, uncontrolled wastelands. Below, in the pitch-black darkness of a deep canyon, faint, sickly-yellow lights flickered.
This was the Shadow Market—the true underbelly of the Southern Provinces. A place where the laws of the righteous sects held no sway, where a life was worth less than a copper coin, and where people would slit their own brothers' throats without hesitation for the right pill or a sliver of knowledge.
Xuan Li tightened his grip on the grinning skull token. The metal seemed to absorb the heat of his palm, responding with a barely perceptible, sinister thrum.
For three years he had tried to play by the Order's rules, enduring humiliation and hoping for justice, trying to stay in the light. And it had led him to becoming a broken cripple, tossed into the mud for the amusement of aristocrats.
"Justice doesn't exist," Xuan Li thought coldly, looking at the lights flickering in the darkness. "There is only power, and those willing to pay any price for it."
[Warning: Transition into a high-danger zone detected. The density of corrupted Qi and hidden intent exceeds the norm by 400%. Maximum stealth mode activation recommended.]
"From now on, stealth is my middle name," Li whispered.
He pulled his bloodied robes tighter around himself, pulled up his hood to completely conceal his face, and took a step into the abyss, dissolving into the thick fog of the canyon.
Thus ended his short life as a worthless disciple of the Blazing Plum Order, and his true path into the darkness began.