System Prompt, Turning Danger into Safety

My vision went black, my ears filled with a cacophony of noise. My body twitched on the ground, my leg hitting a pile of rocks. The sound of falling gravel echoed distantly, as if heard through water. I opened my mouth, blood flowing to my throat, impossible to swallow or spit out.

My fingers wouldn't move, but I could still feel the coolness of the ground. My Daoist Robe clung to my back, soaked through, I didn't know if it was sweat or blood. It felt like a hole had opened at the Baihui Acupoint on my head, spiritual power gushing out and chaotically drilling back in. My meridians burned, not with heat, but like a tightened tendon being ground back and forth.

I wanted to call out to the System, but my throat wouldn't make a sound. My mind was hazy, wondering if it would abandon me. After all, it had never spoken before, never offered any warnings. Perhaps it was only responsible for posing questions and providing rewards; once something went wrong, it was up to me to survive.

Just as my consciousness was about to fade, a line of text suddenly lit up in my sea of consciousness.

It was red, blindingly so.

"Error: Yuzhen Pass forcibly breached. Correct path: Slow引 for three breaths, focus on Niwan Palace, reverse Du Meridian to Ren Meridian."

Those words lingered there, unmoving and unblinking. Unlike the usual pop-up boxes during quizzes, this one had forced its way in, carrying a sense of pressure.

I stared at the line of text, my eyes aching, but I dared not close them. I knew this was my last chance.

My tongue was still broken from that bite. There was a metallic taste in my mouth now, but my mind was a little clearer. I used this clarity to suppress the turbulence within my body, not pushing or blocking, but trying to "feel" the spiritual power that was ramming around.

They were too urgent, exploding upwards from the Dantian, rebounding off the Yuzhen Pass, and then scattering wildly. My arms, legs, chest – everywhere. With every impact, I felt like my bones were about to crack.

But now I knew where I had gone wrong.

It wasn't a lack of strength, but that I had tried too hard to break through. The Profound Origin Breathing Technique said "connect," and I thought it meant to push through, to force my way. But that wasn't it. It was about letting the energy flow on its own, like water reaching an edge and naturally flowing downwards.

I gave up trying to control it and instead focused my attention on the center of my head. That was the Niwan Palace, which the System had mentioned once when explaining the meridian map.

I began to count.

One breath, two breaths, three breaths.

I ignored the twitching in my legs and the pressure in my chest. I focused only on that one spot, waiting for the frenzied spiritual power to surge upwards on its own.

When the first wave hit, I almost lost my focus. It was too fierce, like a wave crashing ashore, directly into my head. I clenched my jaw, tilted my head back, and didn't loosen my grip even as the back of my head hit the ground.

But I didn't let it take another path.

I guided it to gather in the Niwan Palace, not by force, but by a gentle pull. It was like herding sheep into a pen; you couldn't chase them, you had to stand at the entrance and wait.

The second wave came a little slower. This time, I could feel its direction change. It no longer crashed wildly but slid upwards in an arc. When it reached the top, it paused.

Now.

I silently chanted "reverse Du Meridian to Ren Meridian," gently sending this surge of energy downwards. Not continuing through the Du Meridian, but letting it curve, turning into the Ren Meridian, and slowly sliding back to the Dantian along this front line.

The process was slow. Slower than running the technique for the first time. With every inch it moved, I had to concentrate, afraid it would explode again.

But it was moving.

Warm, steady, no longer tearing me apart.

When this surge of energy completed its full cycle, I heard myself gasp. A long breath, squeezed from the bottom of my lungs, trembling.

I tried again.

This time it was smoother. Although my meridians still ached, the feeling of impending rupture was gone. After returning to the Dantian, the spiritual power didn't immediately become restless; instead, it circled quietly, as if tired.

I propped myself up on my arms, wanting to sit up. The palm of my hand pressed against the ground, my fingertips touching a piece of broken stone. I used it to lift my body, my shoulders aching fiercely, but I didn't stop, inching my way to the corner of the wall to lean against.

The stone pile behind me was cold. But as I leaned against it, I felt a sense of grounding. At least I could feel that I was still in this room, not dead.

My gaze swept across the ground.

The spirit stone lay in its pit, its surface dull, devoid of any light. Beside it were a few small fragments that had fallen from the stone pile. One of them lay pressed against the side of the spirit stone, as if accidentally nudged there.

I looked down at my hands.

The skin on my fingertips was blackened, as if a layer had been burned off. It hurt to the touch. These were the marks of spiritual power leakage burns. Other places weren't much better; the cuffs of my Daoist Robe were torn, and there was bloodstain on my right shoulder, I didn't know if it was from a scrape or from internal injuries.

I ignored them.

All I wanted now was to remember those three actions from just now.

Slow inhale, focus on the Niwan Palace, return to the Dantian.

Not to charge, not to push, not to force. But to wait, to receive, to guide back.

I closed my eyes and adjusted my breathing again. This time, I didn't dare run the full technique, only gently nudged a wisp of spiritual power near my Dantian, testing its reaction.

It moved, obediently circling halfway, then stopped. No outburst, no backlash.

I opened my eyes and looked at the ceiling.

Vines still hung there, a few dangling from the beams. A little wind blew in from the south opening, making them sway. Their shadows cast on the wall no longer writhed or intertwined.

I reached out and thought, "[System]"

There was no sound.

But I could feel it was still there.

Just like before, floating at the edge of my consciousness, silent, and not leaving.

I paused, then said softly, "Thank you."

After saying that, I found my heart rate steadying and my breathing deepening. It wasn't an immediate recovery, but a gradual return.

I leaned against the wall, motionless.

It must be getting dark outside. The light in the room dimmed, but it didn't affect my ability to see clearly. The door curtain wasn't lifted, and the dead leaf by the threshold was still there, only it had flipped over, revealing the patterns on its underside.

I looked at it, and suddenly remembered the day I first arrived.

Crossing the border, I was left with only one spirit stone in my hand. I knew nothing, not even how to chop wood. Back then, I stood in this empty lot, staring at the stream in a daze, wondering if I could survive for three days.

Now I'm alive.

And I know that if I make a mistake, I can correct it.

I raised my hand, looking at my blackened fingertips. The wounds wouldn't heal immediately, but as long as I was still alive, I could continue practicing.

I wasn't in a hurry anymore.

I closed my eyes again and went through the basic incantation of the Profound Origin Breathing Technique from the beginning. I went through each word slowly, without stopping or skipping. I wanted to understand what each sentence meant, rather than just going by feel.

The spiritual power within me was very weak, almost depleted. But I didn't take any pills, nor did I touch the ruined spirit stone. I wanted to recover a little on my own first.

When the seventh Heavenly Cycle ended, I felt a stir in my Dantian.

It wasn't a surge, but a thread of new energy emerged. It was faint, but clear. It traveled along the Ren Meridian, returned to its origin, and then quietly settled down.

I opened my eyes.

My fingers could clench into a fist, and my legs could move. Although I was still unsteady when standing, at least I wouldn't fall down again.

I looked down at the ground, at the spirit stone that had lost its luster.

Then I reached out and took it out of the pit.

The moment my palm touched it, I felt a slight numbness, like an electric current. I frowned but didn't let go.

It was useless now, but I didn't want to throw it away.

This was the first thing I used to sense spiritual energy, and the starting point for building this cultivation dwelling. It had accompanied me from nothing to something, and even though it was ruined now, I still wanted to keep it.

I put it in my robes, close to my chest.

The wind outside had picked up.

The animal hide on the roof flapped once, then again. I looked up and saw that a vine had loosened, and the knot hanging from the crossbeam was a bit crooked.

I stared at the knot for a while.

Then, supporting myself against the wall, I slowly stood up.