The sun, a pale, indifferent orb in the dusty sky, did little to dispel the oppressive gloom of the Falling Leaf Sect's courtyard. Li Xuan stood at the edge of the desolation, clutching his brittle branch. It was less a tool and more a symbol of his current, pathetic predicament. The courtyard wasn't just messy; it was an ecological disaster zone. Weeds, thick and tenacious, grew in defiant clumps, pushing through cracks in what might once have been elegant stone pathways. Fallen leaves, decades worth, had compressed into a thick, dark mulch that smelled faintly of damp earth and decay. Broken roof tiles, splintered wood, and unidentifiable debris lay scattered everywhere, hinting at the sect's violent decline.
"Ten square meters," Li Xuan muttered to himself, aiming the branch at a particularly stubborn patch of thorny bushes. "Ten square meters of this hell. Fine. Let's see what this 'Lesser Qi Gathering Manual' is all about." He pictured the typical gaming reward screen: a shiny new item appearing in his inventory, ready to be equipped or used. Here, the 'inventory' was just his mind, and the 'item' was... potential knowledge.
He started by a section of wall near the main hall, reasoning that clearing a defined area would be easier to track. The branch was useless as a broom, snapping almost immediately when he tried to clear a pile of leaves. He tossed it aside with a frustrated grunt. "Right. Manual labor. As if I haven't done enough of that trying to get through college."
He began by hand, pulling at the toughest weeds. Their roots were deep, tangled stubbornly in the compacted soil. Dirt caked under his fingernails almost instantly, and sweat beaded on his brow within minutes. His gamer physique, accustomed to long hours of sitting and only minimal trips to the fridge, was screaming in protest. Every muscle felt like it was being stretched, pulled, and then slammed with a hammer.
"This is ridiculous," he gasped, wiping a sleeve across his forehead, leaving a streak of grime. "There has to be a more efficient way. Where's my area-of-effect spell? My farming tools? This system is seriously lacking quality-of-life features."
Despite his complaints, the thought of the reward kept him going. A "Lesser Qi Gathering Manual." In a cultivation world, that sounded like the absolute baseline, the foundational skill. But for someone with zero understanding of this world's internal energies, it was everything. It was the first step on a path that could lead him out of this dusty hellhole.
He switched tactics. Instead of pulling weeds, he started piling up the larger debris – broken pottery shards, splintered wood, loose stones. It was slower, back-breaking work, but he could feel a small, defined area slowly beginning to emerge from the chaos. His hands were scraped raw, his back ached, and his entire body screamed for rest, but the faint, shimmering blue box remained in his peripheral vision, its progress tracker slowly ticking up.
[Progress: 3/10 sq meters cleansed.]
Seeing the numbers change, however incrementally, was a powerful motivator. It was exactly like a progress bar in a game, a visual confirmation that his efforts weren't futile. He pushed through the pain, imagining each weed he pulled, each stone he lifted, as a tiny step toward gaining his first ability.
Hours passed. The watery sunlight began to dim, casting long, distorted shadows across the desolate courtyard. Li Xuan was covered head to toe in dust and dirt, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. He was exhausted, every bone in his body screaming, but a strange sense of accomplishment was starting to creep in. He had cleared a patch, roughly rectangular, by the old sect wall. It wasn't pristine, but it was clear of the worst of the debris and the most egregious weeds.
Finally, just as darkness began to truly descend, the blue box shimmered brightly, a triumphant chime echoing only in his mind.
[Progress: 10/10 sq meters cleansed. Objective Complete!]
[Reward: Lesser Qi Gathering Manual (Common Grade) acquired.]
Li Xuan collapsed onto the newly cleared patch of ground, panting, utterly spent. But a wide, exhausted grin spread across his face. He'd done it. First quest complete. Time for the loot!
Almost instantly, a warm sensation bloomed in his mind. It wasn't a physical book or scroll, but rather a rush of pure knowledge. Concepts, previously alien, now flowed into his consciousness: the circulation of Qi (a vital energy, he understood now, that permeated the world and all living beings), the method of drawing it into his body, guiding it along specific meridians, and storing it within his Dantian (a vital energy center located below the navel). It was basic, almost rudimentary, but it was also incredibly clear, like an expertly written tutorial for a complex game mechanic.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the instructions that felt innate now. He sat cross-legged on the dusty ground, attempting to mimic the postures described in the manual. He breathed deeply, slowly, just as the manual suggested, trying to feel the subtle currents of Qi in the air around him. At first, there was nothing. Just the silence of the dying sect, the distant chirping of crickets, and the pounding of his own heart.
Then, a faint, almost imperceptible warmth sparked in his palms. It was fleeting, like a spark from flint, but it was there. He tried again, focusing harder, clearing his mind of everything but the instruction. This time, the warmth grew, a tiny, almost ethereal current flowing from his palms, up his arms, and into his chest. It was a sensation unlike anything he'd ever felt – not heat, not cold, but a vibrant, tingling energy.
A small, genuine smile touched his lips. It was real. This absurd, terrifying, utterly unbelievable situation was real, and he had just taken his first, tiny step into it. The knowledge granted by the system was indeed "powerful enough" in the context of his starting point. He knew, instinctively, that if he kept practicing, this Lesser Qi Gathering Manual would be far more effective than any common method learned without the system's direct infusion. It was a perfect, optimized pathway.
He spent the next hour simply trying to maintain the sensation, letting the tiny wisps of Qi circulate within him. It was incredibly slow, almost imperceptible progress, but he could feel a minuscule shift, a subtle strengthening within his core. He was no longer just Li Xuan, the gamer. He was Li Xuan, the accidental sect leader, and he was beginning to cultivate.
As the last vestiges of twilight faded, plunging the courtyard into a deep, star-dusted darkness, Li Xuan finally lay back, utterly exhausted but strangely invigorated. His stomach growled a pathetic protest, reminding him that spiritual energy didn't fill an empty belly. He still had no idea where his next meal was coming from, or if there was even any food left in this crumbling sect. But for the first time since he woke up in this strange world, a glimmer of hope sparked within him.
He might be penniless. He might be the last member of a dying sect. But he had a System. And he had taken his first step. Tomorrow, he'd figure out food. Tonight, he'd dream of Qi.