The Meaning of a Glimmer

When the morning light cut into the room, Lu Yuan was already awake.

He lay still, first sensing that thread of Soul Power within him. It had grown a little thicker and a little more obedient.

He opened his right hand.

Blue Silver Grass appeared. Its pale green phantom was almost transparent in the morning light, but the point of light at its core seemed a fraction steadier than it had been last night.

It was no illusion.

He rolled over and sat up, then pulled a record book made from an old ledger out from under the bed. It was thin, its paper coarse, and its pages were covered in symbols, lines, and numbers.

He turned to the latest page. Yesterday's experimental data: Soul Power output, "C, lower grade, three"; duration, "about a quarter of a quarter-hour"; auxiliary material, "one drop of Starlight Dew Vine extract, diluted ten to one."

An arrow in the results column pointed to two small words written beside it in charcoal: faint glow.

He flipped back through densely packed records of failures. "No response," "Soul Power dispersed," "core point dimmed"...

Lu Yuan's gaze lingered on the successful record for a moment before he began comparing them.

The Soul Power output could be neither too strong nor too weak. Yesterday's "C, lower grade, three" seemed to be the threshold. The concentration of the Starlight Dew Vine extract mattered too; he had found the ten-to-one ratio through experimentation. There was also the timing: he had to focus his intent on the Martial Soul's core at the instant the Soul Power fluctuations resonated with the natural Soul Power in the extract...

He closed the book and let out a soft breath.

A sound came from the kitchen. Lu Yuan put the book away and pushed open the door.

"Mom."

"You're awake?" Lin Xiu was stirring porridge by the stove. She turned to look at him. "Your complexion looks a little better."

Lu Yuan nodded and scooped up some water to wash his face. The cold water splashed against his skin, leaving him refreshed.

There were more grains of rice in the breakfast porridge, and flecks of oil in the pickles. Lin Xiu filled the father and son's bowls to the brim, while her own held only a shallow serving.

Lu Qinghe ate with his head down, slurping loudly. He looked more spirited, but the vertical crease between his brows remained.

"Dad, are you going to the woods east of town again today?" Lu Yuan asked.

"Mm. The fir there is good, and the client's pressing us." Lu Qinghe swallowed his porridge. "As for Shopkeeper Liu... I answered him like you said. He didn't say much when he heard it, but there was a thoughtful look in his eyes."

Lu Yuan's chopsticks paused. "What exactly did he say?"

"He said, 'Three bowls a day it is, but if you ever manage to gather enough herbs, remember to give me first priority.'" Lu Qinghe frowned. "Doesn't sound like he's given up."

"It's fine." Lu Yuan's tone was calm. "Stick to it: the herbs are hard to gather, and three bowls a day is the most we can manage. If he doesn't want them, we'll go to another shop, or trade directly with your coworkers."

Lin Xiu looked worried. "Won't that offend him? Shopkeeper Liu has standing in town..."

"It won't." Lu Yuan cut her off. "We're selling something, not begging for favors. If he wants it, he has to follow our rules."

He looked at his father. "Dad, remember, no matter how he tries to pry, you don't know a thing about the recipe, where the herbs come from, or how they're mixed. Just say I threw it together by messing around, and all you do is carry the bowls over to trade."

Lu Qinghe looked into his son's calm eyes, and his heart tightened. He nodded. "Got it."

After breakfast, Lu Qinghe went to work with his axe over his shoulder, while Lin Xiu took her basket to pick up odd jobs. Lu Yuan was left alone at home.

He first went to the backyard to check on the experimental plot. The Soul Condensing Grass seeds still hadn't sprouted, and the soil was loosened every day. Lu Yuan brushed aside the top layer and took a look. The seeds hadn't changed, but he had adjusted the soil's moisture and looseness.

He would have to wait.

He returned to the room and shut the door.

Morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting a square patch of light. Lu Yuan sat cross-legged at its edge and summoned his Blue Silver Grass.

The phantom of the pale green grass unfurled in his palm, its three tender leaves slender and delicate. The point of light at its core flickered faintly.

Lu Yuan didn't immediately feed it Soul Power. He first used his intent to "observe" it closely-the direction of the leaf veins, the natural flow of Soul Power, and the cycle of fluctuations in the light's brightness.

After half a quarter-hour, he began.

A tiny stream of Soul Power separated from his dantian and flowed down his arm toward his palm. He controlled the output to be a fraction weaker than yesterday's.

The instant it touched the Blue Silver Grass, the leaves trembled.

Lu Yuan concentrated completely, sensing every minute change. With his other hand, he picked up a small wooden chip, dipped it in Starlight Dew Vine extract diluted ten to one, and brought it close to a leaf tip without touching it.

The faint natural Soul Power given off by the extract resonated subtly with the Soul Power he was putting out.

Now.

Lu Yuan focused his intent and directed the resonant fluctuations toward the point of light at the Martial Soul's core.

The point of light abruptly brightened.

It was clearer and steadier than yesterday. Immediately afterward, a pale green fluorescence appeared at the tips of all three leaves at once.

The glow lasted for three breaths before slowly fading.

Lu Yuan withdrew his Soul Power, sweat beading at his temples. This attempt at guiding it had taken a greater mental toll because he had tried to control the waveform more precisely.

But his eyes were bright.

He had succeeded again.

It wasn't a coincidence. Under specific conditions, Blue Silver Grass really did produce a positive energy response to combined stimuli.

Lu Yuan didn't immediately make a second attempt. He closed his eyes and replayed the entire process, committing every detail to memory. Then he took out his record book and charcoal pencil and quickly wrote and sketched.

New data: Soul Power output, "C, lower grade, four"; resonance waveform, "off-peak guidance"; result, "fluorescence at leaf tips, all three appearing simultaneously, lasting approximately three breaths."

Comparing it with yesterday's record, he saw a vague outline emerge in his mind.

A Martial Soul's response to external stimuli had a "threshold." Anything below it was ineffective; anything above the upper limit could cause damage. Within the effective range, different methods of stimulation produced different responses.

Yesterday's "faint glow" and today's "fluorescence at the leaf tips" were manifestations under different parameters.

Then, was there an "optimal stimulation range"? One that would produce the greatest beneficial response at the least cost?

Lu Yuan tapped his knee with his index finger.

A classic optimization problem. There were many variables, complicated constraints, and an objective function that still wasn't clearly defined. But at least the problem had been defined.

At the top of a new page in his record book, he wrote:

"Martial Soul activity guidance experiment-preliminary confirmation of phenomena and parameter analysis"

Below it, he listed the following points:

"1. Confirmed phenomena: With a specific Soul Power output combined with guidance from diluted Starlight Dew Vine extract, the Blue Silver Grass Martial Soul can produce a brief fluorescent energy response. There are two manifestations: a faint glow at the core point; and light at the leaf tips."

"2. Hypothesized key variables: Soul Power output strength; output waveform; type and concentration of auxiliary material; ambient Soul Power concentration; precision of intent focus during guidance; the Martial Soul's own state cycle."

"3. Next-stage objectives: Reproduce the leaf-tip fluorescence consistently; attempt to extend its duration; investigate whether it is accompanied by other changes; gradually establish a 'stimulus-response' model and search for the 'optimal range.'"

Having written that much, he put down his pencil.

Looking at the calm, dry words on the page, he felt a strange sense of reassurance well up inside him.

The road was long. A Trash Martial Soul as his foundation, a starting point of half a level of Soul Power, a home with nothing but four bare walls for resources... None of that had changed.

But at least he had the beginnings of a map in his hands. Though it showed only the small patch beneath his feet, the direction was clear and the method could be tested.

That was enough.

Lin Xiu came home at noon with a small packet of coarse salt and two pieces of old cloth, payment for mending work. Her expression was relaxed. "It was work for Auntie Wang's family at the west end. They paid fairly."

Lu Yuan helped light the fire and cook. Lunch was brown rice and stir-fried wild greens. There wasn't much oil, but there was enough salt.

As they ate, Lin Xiu brought up Old Chen's family at the east end of town again.

"I heard their child is on a hunger strike." She sighed. "Old Chen and his wife are worried sick, asking all over town about folk remedies and ways to have the child's Martial Soul tested again. But where would they find anything like that? If the awakening fails, that's how it is for the rest of your life."

"Fate," Lu Qinghe said in a muffled voice.

"A bitter fate." Lin Xiu shook her head. "That child used to be so bright, learned characters faster than anyone, and had such high aspirations. Now..."

Lu Yuan ate quietly and said nothing.

A failed Martial Soul Awakening. In this world, it was almost equivalent to a "death" sentence. Being unable to become a Soul Master meant being forever excluded from the system of power, forever at the very bottom.

He thought of the Blue Silver Grass in his palm and that faint point of light.

Knowledge was a key. But a key could open more than just his own lock.

The thought surfaced again, clearer than it had been last night.

But he pushed it down. It was still too early. He hadn't even pried open a crack in his own lock, so how could he speak of helping someone else? Recklessly exposing his knowledge now would be no different from drawing fire upon himself.

First, he had to survive and find his footing.