The scraping of wooden spoons inside the shack finally stopped. I sat on my log outside, finished the last drop of my own porridge, and stood up. Picking up the newly rewarded Carpenter’s Divine Iron Chisel from my lap, I walked back over to the half-finished wooden frame.
The chisel felt perfect in my hand. With a single stroke, it shaved through the rough pine wood like it was soft butter, leaving a surface so smooth it didn’t need any sanding. I worked quickly, cutting the final notches and locking the seat planks into the wheel frame.
When I lifted it, the chair didn’t creak. It was solid, balanced, and perfectly functional.
I picked up the wooden chair in both arms, walked back to the shack, and pushed the door open with my shoulder.
Inside, the four girls were still gathered around the low wooden stool. The four bowls were completely spotless, licked clean down to the very last grain of millet. When the door swung open, they all flinched out of habit. Ye Xinyang’s eyes immediately went to my hands, her body tensing as she prepared to defend the others.
But when she saw what I was carrying, her anger froze. She just stared, her mouth slightly open.
I walked straight past her, carrying the heavy wooden contraption toward the corner where Mo Ran was sitting. The assassin girl looked up at me, her eyes narrowing into slits as I stopped right in front of her.
"What is that ugly thing?" Mo Ran spat, her voice sharp, though she couldn’t hide the slight tremor in her breath. "Did the elders tell you to build a wooden cage for us? Are you going to lock us up now?"
I didn’t answer her. I knelt down on the dirt floor, placing the chair right beside her.
"It’s not a cage," I said, keeping my voice calm and even. "It’s a chair. Look at the sides. These are wheels. If you sit on this, you can push these large outer rings with your hands. You won’t have to drag your body across the dirt anymore."
Mo Ran stared at the smooth wooden seat, then at the hand-carved wheels. Her chest rose and fell rapidly under her torn red robes. For a second, a flash of deep, agonizing longing crossed her face—but it was instantly replaced by a look of intense bitterness and pride.
"I don’t want it," she whispered, turning her head away, her hands tighten as she gripped the straw mattress. "I am a shadow assassin of the Hidden Veil. I am not a cripple to be rolled around in a toy box by a trash disciple. Take it away. I’d rather rot on this floor than take your charity."
"Mo Ran..." Chu Ning’er murmured from the fireplace, her voice full of worry. She was holding the small green jade piece tightly against her chest, her skin looking slightly less blue than last night. "He... he spent the whole morning chopping wood for this. I heard the axe from inside."
"Shut up, Ning’er!" Mo Ran snapped, her eyes tearing up from pure frustration. She looked back at me, her teeth clenched. "You think you can play the good husband and make us feel pathetic? You want me to get into this thing so you can wheel me around like a dog on a leash? Just drop the act, Lu Chen! What do you really want from my body?"
I didn’t get angry. I looked straight into her bitter, tearful eyes.
"I don’t want anything from your body," I said quietly. "And I’m not going to wheel you around. I built the wheels so you could turn them. If you want to sit on the floor in your own dirt because of your pride, that’s your choice. But if you want to be able to move yourself out of this room without asking anyone for help, get in the chair."
I stood up, stepped back, and looked at Ye Xinyang. "Help her up," I told Xinyang. "The frame is strong. It won’t break."
Ye Xinyang looked at me for a long time. Her fierce, defensive posture slowly relaxed just a little bit. She looked down at the smooth wood, seeing the perfect joints that required hours of manual labor. She looked at my hands, which were covered in sticky pine sap and small cuts.
"Mo Ran," Ye Xinyang said softly, walking over and kneeling beside the assassin. "Let’s just try it. If it’s a trap, I’ll smash it to pieces with my bare hands. I promise you."
Mo Ran bit her lip so hard a drop of blood appeared. She looked at Gu Qinghan, but the blind girl remained silent, her head tilted, listening intently to the honesty in my steady heartbeat.
Finally, with a miserable sob, Mo Ran let out her breath. "Fine. But if he tries anything, Xinyang, kill him."
Ye Xinyang put her strong arms under Mo Ran’s shoulders. she lifted the paralyzed girl’s off the floor and carefully lowered her onto the smooth wooden seat of the chair. Mo Ran’s dead legs hung down, resting perfectly on the small wooden footrest I had designed at the bottom.
Mo Ran sat rigid, frozen with fear. But after a few seconds, she realized the chair wasn’t tipping over. It held her perfectly.
Slowly, hesitantly, her trembling hands reached out to the large wooden wheels on either side. She gave them a small, weak push.
Squeak.
The chair rolled forward two feet, smoothly and effortlessly across the dirt floor.
Mo Ran gasped, her eyes widening to the size of saucers. She pushed the wheels backward, and the chair rolled back to its original spot. For the first time in a month, since the day her spine meridians were severed by a poison needle, she had moved across a room by her own strength.
"I... I moved," she whispered, her voice cracking completely. The venom and bitterness vanished from her face, leaving only a young girl overwhelmed by raw emotion. "I can move on my own..."
Chu Ning’er let out a happy cry, clapping her hands. Even the stoic, blind Gu Qinghan smiled softly in the shadows, her grip on her wooden sword sheath loosening.
Ye Xinyang stepped back, staring at the crying Mo Ran, then turned to look at me. Her expression was incredibly complicated. There was still a lingering layer of caution in her eyes, but underneath it, a profound sense of gratitude and confusion was taking root.
"You... you really just built this for her," Xinyang whispered, her voice dropping all its sharp edges. "Why? Why are you doing all this for us? We are nothing but trouble. Our enemies will come here eventually. If you stay away from us, the elders might leave you alone."
"The elders will never leave me alone," I said, my tone flat. "We are in the same boat now. If you die, I die. So stop talking about killing yourselves and worry about getting stronger."
Right then—
[ding! investment verified.]
[you provided: handmade mechanical wheelchair to a high-potential target (mo ran).]
[triggering 10,000x multiplier...]
[multiplier has achieved a perfect critical strike!]
[reward received: immortal sovereign phantom step divine-grade movement technique & [body-tempering marrows x1 bottle.]
[note: the phantom step technique has been directly printed into your soul. you now possess total mastery over high-speed spatial movement, allowing you to dodge any attack below the immortal realm.]
A sudden, immense rush of heat flooded my mind. It didn’t hurt like a migraine; instead, it felt like an ancient, warm river expanding my consciousness. Thousands of complex footwork patterns, spatial calculations, and breathing techniques instantly engraved themselves into my muscles and soul. I didn’t just learn the technique—my body felt like it had practiced it for ten thousand years. If I wanted to, I could take a step right now and appear ten yards away in the blink of an eye, leaving nothing but an afterimage behind.
I took a deep breath, absorbing the power, while keeping my face completely expressionless so the girls wouldn’t notice anything strange.
Mo Ran stopped her chair, wiping her tears hastily with her sleeves, looking incredibly embarrassed that she had cried in front of me. She looked up, her face flushing slightly red.
"I... I still don’t completely trust you, Lu Chen," she muttered, looking away out of sheer stubbornness. "But... thank you. This is better than rotting on the floor."
"Keep practicing with the wheels," I replied, pulling the four paper packets of Spiritual Grain Essence out of my robe. I placed them on the stool next to the empty bowls. "This is a special mountain herb powder I found near the logging area. Tomorrow, when I cook the porridge, I will mix this in. It will slowly strengthen your muscles and stop your bodies from wasting away. It won’t trigger your broken meridians, so it’s safe."
Gu Qinghan, who had been quiet the whole time, finally stood up from her spot against the wall. She walked forward slowly, using her wooden sword sheath to gently tap the floor in front of her until she reached the stool.
"Lu Chen," the blind girl said, her sightless face turning directly toward mine. Her voice was calm, but there was a deep weight to it. "Xinyang and Mo Ran are still afraid of a trap because they have seen too many betrayals. But I can hear the rhythm of your heart. When you speak to us, your heart does not skip a beat. You are telling the truth. I will trust you for now."
Ye Xinyang sighed, crossing her arms, though her eyes remained glued to the packets of medicine. "We will see. If this medicine really helps Ning’er’s frost poison, then... then I will believe you too, Lu Chen."
"Good. Rest up," I said, picking up the four empty bowls onto the flat wood board. "Tomorrow morning, the senior outer disciples will come down to check on the fields. They will probably try to cause trouble. I need to be ready."
I turned around and walked out of the shack, closing the door softly behind me. Inside, I could hear the faint, happy sound of Mo Ran’s wooden wheels rolling back and forth, accompanied by the low, comfortable murmurs of the four girls finally talking to each other without fear.
I looked down at my hands, feeling the incredible, divine movement technique humming inside my soul. A slow, cold smile crept onto my face as I looked toward the grand mountain peaks of the inner sect.
’Let them come tomorrow.’