“…Palace Master, you must be joking.” Qu Weichen lowered her eyes and said calmly, “I’m just an ordinary person, there’s really no secret about me.”
“Of course, if there’s anything you want me to do, I’ll do my best to meet your expectations.”
“No need to be so tense, I just have high hopes for you~” The Palace Master took her hand, gently patted the back of it, her tone still incredibly gentle.
“Alright, be good, go back to sleep~ Kids need more sleep to grow tall, you know.”
“…” Qu Weichen’s gaze followed the woman’s movements.
She watched as the Palace Master left the courtyard, looking completely at ease.
The cold moonlight shone down, her tall figure stepping on silver silk, her shadow stretched long.
Only when the Palace Master disappeared around the corner did Qu Weichen purse her lips, turn around, and push open the door to her room.
[She treats you well, that’s a good sign.] Number Nine said, [Don’t worry, no one can detect my presence.]
“Maybe that’s exactly why she has high hopes for me.” Qu Weichen was a bit puzzled.
She didn’t really understand what the Prison Sanctuary was thinking.
The Sanctuary was clearly opposed to the Abyss, and should be extremely hostile to necromancers on the continent.
Did the Palace Master really know something, or was she just testing her? No, someone like her wasn’t worth that kind of effort.
Unless… “This Palace Master has a different view of necromancers.”
But that was just a guess.
Right now, Qu Weichen didn’t dare to test it rashly.
“But, she was right about one thing.”
[Uh, that sleeping early helps you grow?]
[Yeah, according to the data, going to bed early and getting up early is good for development.]
Qu Weichen: “…”
“It’s what she said about having extraordinary determination and unwavering courage.”
Qu Weichen thought, maybe it was a bit self-flattering, but she believed she wasn’t lacking in those qualities.
Still, why was it so hard to control that “qi”? Was it because she didn’t have a clear goal, or something else… Surely being a necromancer didn’t lock her martial artist talent, right?
[Don’t slander us, we don’t have a business locking martial artist talents.] Number Nine immediately clarified, [Necromancer, mage! We only affect magic talent.]
Qu Weichen knew it probably wasn’t the system’s fault, but she was still clueless about “qi.” Sighing, she opened up the martial arts manual and human anatomy diagrams to study them carefully.
In three months, she’d have to go to the academy—Uweino’s academy? There should be plenty of prodigies there.
But it didn’t matter, as long as she could learn something.
Since the Palace Master had given her a chance, she had to seize it.
…
The daily training continued, but it was no longer just sparring with the wooden dummy.
Constance would restrain her aura and strength, and break down the moves with her.
In Qu Weichen’s view, Constance was definitely holding back a lot, because whenever she couldn’t dodge an attack, Constance’s moves would slow down just enough to give her time to react.
With this kind of hands-on teaching, Qu Weichen gradually got used to the rhythm of real combat.
The second week.
Qu Weichen still couldn’t channel “qi” into her hands.
She could make the qi tremble, even move it a little, but nothing deeper.
Number Nine thought she needed a little push—maybe if she was being chased by a centaur skeleton and her life was on the line, she’d become a first-rank martial artist.
Yeah, the only problem was… even if she became a first-rank martial artist, she still wouldn’t be a match for a centaur skeleton.
Just as Qu Weichen was thinking about how to fire herself up, Constance finally found a suitable opponent.
That morning, Qu Weichen had just finished ten laps and breakfast, feeling energized and ready to train, when she saw Constance leading a boy inside.
It wasn’t that Qu Weichen found it odd, but the boy… looked way too young.
“Wan Zhiming, human, male, thirteen.” Constance introduced simply, “First-rank martial artist.”
Qu Weichen: “Hello.” She stood up straight and gave a standard salute.
“There are very few sparring partners your age.
Most families won’t let their kids awaken as martial artists early, unless they have no talent for magic.” Constance glanced at Wan Zhiming.
“This kid made a bet with someone and just bought an awakening potion and drank it.
Luckily, he has decent magic talent, so he can still join the Church of Light in the future.”
“So you’re the one the Palace Master picked, the one who survived nine rounds of body tempering? Didn’t expect you to be a girl.” Wan Zhiming had a round face and a goofy smile.
He rubbed his hands.
“That body tempering hurts like hell.
I only made it through five rounds before I gave up.
Sigh, I never wanted to be a martial artist, and my family got mad about it and cut off my allowance.
The head guard said, we fight two rounds—if I don’t lose, you have to give me your three-month stipend.”
Qu Weichen silently looked at Constance, who just nodded coldly.
She hadn’t expected Constance to motivate her this way…
“After watching you these days, I realized you’re not interested in anything else.” Constance said.
She’d noticed Qu Weichen was extremely disciplined in her actions and very restrained in her material needs.
Constance had thought she’d need to remind Qu Weichen to increase her daily laps from five to ten, but Qu Weichen just did it herself when she felt she could.
She never slacked off in training.
Constance could see her practicing the martial arts, even inventing combos.
When she sparred with Qu Weichen herself, she realized Qu Weichen had her own understanding and ideas.
Hardworking, diligent, disciplined.
With a seedling like this, there was no reason for her to be stuck at first-rank martial artist for so long.
When a martial artist hits a bottleneck, nothing beats fighting a strong opponent to break through.
“He’s thirteen?”
“Yeah.
But even though he studies Light magic, he also has a martial arts foundation.
Besides, there’s still a gap between a first-rank martial artist and a non-martial artist, so don’t feel like you’re getting an unfair advantage.” Constance said, glancing at Wan Zhiming.
“First round, Wan Zhiming won’t use ‘qi.’ Second round, he will.”
Wan Zhiming straightened up.
“Sis, you’re only a year older than me.
My family has always trained my combat skills.
Just go all out, no one will think you’re bullying me.”
“Alright, I’ll do my best.” Qu Weichen agreed, though she felt a bit helpless.
Logically, as a protagonist with a system, she should be able to challenge people above her level.
Yet now she was stuck fighting a thirteen-year-old kid.
The fight took place in the spacious courtyard—no need for a ring for a match like this.
When Qu Weichen and Wan Zhiming stood facing each other in the open yard, a crisp mechanical prompt sounded.
[Mission triggered: Duel!]
[Mission details: Defend the dignity of necromancers, charge! Win at least once in this battle!]
[Mission reward: Storage Slot_1]
Seriously? What does a martial artist duel have to do with necromancers? Qu Weichen sighed, got into her stance, and prepared herself.
As for the curses she’d learned… she cast them on Wan Zhiming, but they had no effect.
“Sorry about this!” The kid said, then came at her with a direct attack.
Qu Weichen shifted her step and raised her arm to block.
Wan Zhiming’s attacks were fierce, punch after punch.
Qu Weichen dodged, focusing only on his moves, evading every attack she could.
The ones she couldn’t dodge, she blocked with her arms.
The heavy impacts made Qu Weichen’s face change—her arms hurt like hell.
And this was just the first round, with Wan Zhiming not even using “qi.” If they got to the second round, would her arm break from a single punch? She’d gone through nine rounds of body tempering, but Wan Zhiming was still stronger! Was this the passive boost from using “qi”? Qu Weichen tried to force her qi into her hands.
But just then—
Wan Zhiming suddenly threw a hook at her face.
Qu Weichen quickly stepped back and raised her hand to block.
But this righteous-looking kid suddenly pulled back his fist and swept her ankle with a low kick, knocking her down.
Qu Weichen reacted fast, twisting her body so she didn’t fall flat, pushing off the ground to get up.
But Wan Zhiming didn’t let up—he kicked at her wrist, and before she could react, he sat on her back, wrapped his arms around her neck, and squeezed hard.
“You lost this round!”
“Man, I thought you were some kind of genius, but turns out you can’t even fight.
Did you really think I was just sparring with you?” Wan Zhiming jumped off her back, a little disappointed.
“The Palace Master picked someone like you? What kind of taste—” He didn’t dare finish, because Constance was looking at him with a dangerous glare.
“How could someone like this join the Prison Sanctuary? Conquering necromancers? Even the weakest skeleton could kill her.”
Wan Zhiming thought, this was supposed to motivate her, but why was the head guard getting mad at him for saying a couple of words? He sighed, feeling like this reward was getting harder to earn.
“If you can’t beat me without using qi, what chance do you have later? You might as well just give up now, so I don’t accidentally hurt you and make you miss your enrollment.” He grinned.
“They say the Palace Master is a flirt—maybe she just likes your face, sis? Guess I better be careful not to mess you up.”
“Crack,” came the sound of Constance cracking her knuckles.
Qu Weichen quietly looked at the kid.
If she lost, she lost—she could accept that.
But she still wasn’t convinced.
She really couldn’t beat a first-rank martial artist like this? She knew how lucky it was to get perfect training from a young age.
She didn’t have those conditions, and she’d only been training seriously for less than a month.
She really couldn’t win—her strength wasn’t enough, and this boy had more combat experience and better reflexes.
She had no complaints about losing three months’ stipend.
But… hearing those words, why did it feel like a fire was burning inside her?
—Even though he hadn’t even said anything that bad.
Wan Zhiming saw Qu Weichen wasn’t responding, shrugged, and spread his hands.
“Still want to fight? Admit defeat or not?”
