The night went by slowly. I sat outside under the roof overhang, holding the small bottle of Body-Tempering Marrows that the system had given me. The glass was cool, but the thick black liquid inside looked something different.
I didn’t hesitate. I pulled the cork and drank it in one swallow.
There was no sudden explosion of light or dramatic pain. Instead, a heat spread from my stomach straight into my bones. It felt like my muscles were being packed with dense clay, making my limbs feel heavy but incredibly stable. My breathing slowed down. When I stretched my fingers, the weak, shaky feeling of Lu Chen’s old body was completely gone. My skin looked the same, but underneath, my frame felt solid, like an old tree. Combined with the Phantom Step memories humming in my mind, I finally felt like I had a solid footing in this world.
Inside the shack, the low murmurs of the girls finally died down around midnight. The steady, quiet breathing of four people sleeping together on the straw mattress took over. I leaned my back against the wooden wall, closed my eyes, and waited for the sun.
I started the clay stove outside, threw the grey millet into the pot, and opened the four paper packets of Spiritual Grain Essence. The powder was pure white and had no smell. I dumped all of it into the bubbling porridge, stirring it until it dissolved completely into the grains.
I carried the four steaming wooden bowls into the shack.
The girls were already awake. Mo Ran was already sitting in her wooden wheelchair, her hands resting on the wheels. She still looked tired, but she wasn’t staring at the ceiling anymore. Ye Xinyang stood near the window, looking out through the small gaps in the wood. Gu Qinghan sat on the edge of the bed, her head tilted toward the door, while Chu Ning’er stayed close to the warm green jade piece.
"Eat," I said, putting the bowls on the stool. "The disciples from the outer field will be here soon. Don’t leave any food in the bowls when they arrive."
Ye Xinyang didn’t argue this time. She took a bowl and handed it to Chu Ning’er first, then took one for herself. Mo Ran rolled her chair forward, her movements a little smoother than yesterday, and grabbed her bowl without looking at me.
As they ate, I could see the medicine working. It didn’t heal them instantly, but as Chu Ning’er swallowed the warm porridge, the sickly blue color under her skin faded slightly. She stopped shivering completely. Mo Ran’s fingers, which were stiff and dark from old injuries, started to look clean and healthy as she gripped her spoon.
"This... this isn’t normal food, Lu Chen," Gu Qinghan said softly, holding her bowl but not eating yet. Her blindfolded face turned toward me. "The energy in this pot is gentle, but it is very deep. It is soaking into my dry flesh. You didn’t find this by the logging area. No outer disciple could find something this precious."
"Just eat it, Sister Qinghan," Mo Ran muttered, her mouth half-full. "Whatever it is, it keeps my legs from aching. If he’s using rare herbs on us, it’s his loss."
Ye Xinyang set her empty bowl down, her eyes looking straight into mine. "Qinghan is right. This is high-grade spiritual medicine. Lu Chen, if the inner sect finds out you have things like this, they will kill you and take it. Why are you risking your life to feed four broken women?"
"I told you yesterday," I said, collecting the empty bowls. "We are in the same boat. If you stay weak, you die, and then I become a target. Now keep your mouths shut. They’re here."
The sound of arrogant footsteps crunching across the gravel outside broke the quiet morning.
"Hey! Trash Chen! Get your miserable ass out here!" a loud, mocking voice shouted from the yard.
It was Zhou Kang. He was the head senior disciple of the outer fields, a bully who possessed a low-tier Qi Condensation cultivation. He loved nothing more than breaking the fingers of the younger servants if their dirt rows weren’t perfectly straight.
I didn’t rush. I walked to the door, opened it slowly, and stepped out onto the dirt yard.
Zhou Kang was standing there, wearing a clean, dark grey outer disciple robe. Behind him were three of his usual cronies, all carrying heavy wooden clubs used for tilling the soil. They all had smirks on their faces.
"Well, look at the groom!" Zhou Kang laughed, spitting on the ground near my boots. "The elders sent us down to see how your wedding night went. Did the high-and-mighty geniuses treat you well, or did they make you sleep in the dirt like the dog you are?"
The three guys behind him roared with laughter, poking each other in the ribs.
"The fields haven’t been turned yet, Senior Brother Zhou," one of them said, pointing a thumb toward the empty dirt patches behind my shack. "The trash was too busy playing husband to do his chores."
Zhou Kang’s smile turned ugly. He took two steps forward, his heavy hand reaching out to grab the front of my red robe. "Is that true, Chen? You think because the elders gave you some leftover trash women, you don’t have to work the fields anymore? Kneel down and clear the rocks with your teeth, or I’ll break both of your shins today."
Inside the shack, the door creaked open slightly. Ye Xinyang stepped out, her face pale but her eyes burning with pure, cold rage. She didn’t have her wooden spike, but her posture was straight and proud.