BTTH: The Virus That Eats Dou Qi (4)

 Chatper 4 - With Yun Lan

"Eternal Blue," he said in a hushed tone. "Can you rewrite the flow of this technique to use the repaired channels?

A soft pulse flickered across his vision.

The answer, of course, is no.

Action needs comparative reference- other cultivation technique detected

Zui Zian exhaled through his nose. "So you can fix it-but you need another example first."

He rubbed his temple, the faint aftertaste of blood still on his tongue. "Makes sense. You can't rewrite without a proper baseline. You need to know what 'right' looks like before you fix 'wrong.'"

His gaze fell through a slit in the tower wall to the dark horizon beyond. Far away, flickering torches betrayed the city's edge.

The night wore on; the chill seeped in through the fissures in the stone of the tower. Zui Zian sat there for some time longer, eyes half-lidded, watching the faint blue lines fade from his vision. The exhaustion finally caught up with him. His mind slipped under, and sleep came without warning.

When he came awake, the air was thin and pale with morning light; his back hurt from the hard floor, and his breath fogged faintly in the chill. For a moment, he didn't move—just listened to the faint hum of Dou Qi in his body, steady and alive.

He rubbed his face, pushing himself upright. In the distance, the city lay quiet, a few early carts creaking down the roads. Wu Tan City.

He gazed upon it for quite a while.

This place had nothing left for him, not strength, not opportunity, not purpose. It was too small, too stagnant. The main story would be unfolding here, sure, but he had no part to play yet.

"The capital," he murmured. "If I'm going to rebuild, I need to start there."

But plans were easy. Reality wasn't. He had maybe four copper coins left-barely enough for a night's food, let alone a journey across the empire.

By the time the sun had cleared the rooftops, he was standing near the main city gate, his hands in his pockets, watching merchants and travelers come and go. Carts creaked out with goods, guards checked papers, and the morning wind carried the mix of dust and horse sweat.

He was trying to figure out how to get even a fraction of the fare when movement caught his eye.

A familiar group approached from the inner streets. Lavender robes. Calm confidence. The faint, sharp weight of high-level Dou Qi pressing against the air.

The Yun Lan Sect.

Zui Zian's pulse quickened before he could stop it. Nalan Yanran walked at the front again, her posture composed, her eyes set on the road beyond the gate. The same Elder and disciple followed close behind; their presence drew respectful distance from the nearby guards.

They were leaving the city.

He hesitated. Every instinct told him to stay clear, to avoid any more attention from people who could squash him with a flick of their fingers. But then logic whispered back-traveling alone was suicide: bandits, beasts, or worse.

If they were going towards the capital, tagging along meant safety: a free escort through dangerous lands.

He smoothed his sleeves, composed his face, and steadied his steps.

The guards bowed as the Yun Lan Sect group approached, opening the path. Zui Zian fell into step just behind them, close enough to speak without intruding.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice calm but respectful.

Ge Ye was the first to turn, sharp eyes narrowing as if weighing his worth. Nalan Yanran glanced over her shoulder; faint surprise flickered across her face when she recognized him.

"You," she said softly. "The guide from yesterday."

Zui Zian nodded slightly. "Yes, Young Mistress. I didn't mean to intrude but… are you going to the capital before returning to your sect?

Ge Ye's frown deepened, but Nalan Yanran answered with the same composed tone as before. "We are. Our next route passes through the imperial capital. Why?"

Zui Zian held her gaze. "Because I intend to go there as well. And," he paused, letting his tone stay even, "it would be far safer to travel with cultivators of your level than alone."

A moment of silence passed, before the Elder's face conveyed that he found the request absurd, while Nalan Yanran seemed to consider it.

"You want to join us?" she asked.

"When possible," said Zui Zian, "I won't delay you; whatever is needed, whether routes or trade tolls, I can assist with it.

Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer as if weighing something unseen. Then she nodded faintly.

"Very well," she said. "Stay behind our group and do not stray. We leave now."

Ge Ye looked displeased but didn't argue. The disciple cast Zui Zian a short, curious glance.

Zui Zian breathed quietly, the hint of relief mingling with a flicker of anticipation.

He tugged the strap of his worn pouch and stepped into their stride, falling into rhythm as the gates groaned open. Before them, the road stretched long and sun-drenched, uncertain.

As the gate guards gave a low bow, the Yun Lan Sect party—Nalan Yanran, Elder Ge Ye, and the junior disciple—passed through. Zui Zian followed four paces behind the disciple.

The first days were a lesson in discipline and silence. Zui Zian was a non-entity. The small group moved with the swift, tireless efficiency of high-level cultivators. A day of travel for a normal merchant caravan was covered in a few hours. Zui Zian pushed his body to its limit, relying on the 18% efficiency gain he'd wrestled from his meridians just to keep their pace.

He kept his head down, offering useful directions and local knowledge only when asked, thereby earning his keep and avoiding unnecessary scrutiny.

He ate quickly, drank little, and remained silent during their brief halts in the evening.

He imposed a strict rule on himself: no System Breach activity whatsoever.

It was completely unthinkable that he would do a passive scan on a Dou Ling like Ge Ye, much less a Dou Shi like Nalan Yanran, or worse still, try to analyze their techniques. He was only a 3-Star Dou Disciple, after all; they were orders of magnitude above him.

The spiritual and neural feedback needed for a scan would be enormous, and he was already certain that experienced cultivators of their rank, with their sharp spiritual senses, might detect an unknown energy signature trying to probe their Dou Qi network. He did not know how sensitive they were, but he wasn't willing to gamble his life on the chance that they would miss the "virus."

For Zui Zian, the three years until the Agreement—and the true start of Xiao Yan's rise—was a window to survive and build a foundation; he couldn't afford a catastrophic mistake now.

". On the fourth night, they halted on a secluded riverbank, far away from any major road. The cold air carried the gurgling of running water.

Eldest Ge Ye drew a quick, circular formation in the dust that worked as an early warning barrier, and the group settled down.

The disciple and Ge Ye took the first watch while Zui Zian simply sat under an ancient, wind-swept tree.

He lay down, pulled his tattered blanket over himself, and closed his eyes, feigning exhaustion. But his mind was quite awake, running through the scenario repeatedly, almost obsessively. How do I cultivate without dying?