Yan returned to the courtyard after breakfast, carrying his notebook and a bowl of leftover noodles. Gu had the chalk ring ready, its boundary still visible from the previous day. He looked at the pulse strip before Yan stepped inside.
“You want a third activation?” Gu asked.
“At the same low output. I want to see whether the result repeats.”
“The lifespan cost has reversed twice already. That is enough to establish an initial pattern.”
“It is enough to begin a pattern. I want another observation before we stop.”
Gu considered the ring, then Yan’s calm posture. “One more. Same charge, same route. You gather the qi again. The previous vigor does not refill what the method spent.”
“I know.” Yan checked the courtyard and the clear space beyond the chalk. “No one is inside the boundary.”
Gu took his pulse and wrote down the time. Yan had eaten before coming. He felt awake and rested; no fatigue from the morning shift remained. He gathered a measured amount of qi in his dantian and waited for Gu’s count.
“One,” Gu said.
Yan followed the opening breath, let the qi turn through his chest, and carried the final breath through his limbs. Blood-colored qi brightened around his arms. The surge of strength arrived cleanly. The internal life cost followed as a cold pull at the chest, then reversed into a new flow of life and vigor before weakness could begin.
Yan lowered his hands and laughed. His legs felt springier than they had before practice, and his breath was deep. He had spent qi to activate the technique; the life cost had become an increase in vigor, not a hidden debt waiting to arrive later.
Gu checked the pulse strip. “Steady. Walk the chalk line.”
Yan walked from one end of the ring to the other and returned. His feet felt light, but the stones stayed level beneath him. He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. “The third result matches the first two.”
“Describe the difference in strength and vigor.”
“The first surge felt like the route opening. This one is smaller relative to what I already have, but it is still real. My legs feel springier, and I’m more awake.”
Gu recorded the words. “As your strength grows, each contribution may feel smaller. That does not mean the cost disappeared. It means you have more strength to compare it with.”
Yan nodded. He did not claim the effect would stay the same forever or that the method could be used by anyone else. The result belonged to this body, under these conditions, at this charge.
Bai Jiu arrived at the courtyard gate with a labeled pill delivery. He saw Yan grinning and looked from the pulse strip to Gu’s notebook.
“You’ve had an excellent morning,” Bai said. “Was it a pill?”
“No,” Yan answered. “A complete technique.”
Gu added, “The result came from Nine-Death Blood Ignition, not the pill.”
Bai took out a packet. “I have a labeled weak qi pill. Should I raise the courier fee for life-extending goods?”
“Only if the tag proves what it is,” Yan said.
Bai gave him the batch number and source. Yan checked that the seal was intact and that the label matched the route record. He paid the agreed courier fee and left the packet closed until later, after the courtyard test and meal.
Gu read the tag. “Keep the pill test separate from the technique record.”
“They’re in different notebooks,” Yan said. “I won’t mix the result.”
Bai opened the noodles he had brought from the market. Gu had spent the morning counting pulses and did not take his eyes off the bowl. Yan nudged the chopsticks toward him.
“You’re here to monitor the technique,” Yan said. “But you’ve been looking at those noodles for a full minute.”
Gu took the chopsticks. “I can monitor and eat.”
Bai laughed. “The monitor has an appetite.”
They shared the breakfast noodles. The meal was plain, but the warm broth tasted good after the cold morning. Gu finished his bowl and returned to the notebook. He did not write a grand theory; he recorded the three activations and the separate pulse readings.
Later that day, Yan sat at the table with the labeled weak qi pill. He read the batch number and dosing slip again, then took a measured dose with water. Qi gathered in his dantian, small and steady. The mild appetite effect began as a slight loss of interest in food. It did not turn to nausea or pain. Within a short time, his stomach settled into comfortable digestion and a healthier appetite.
A silent notice retained the qi benefit and reversed the cultivation-linked appetite effect into an improvement. Yan recorded it in the reject map, separate from the three life-cost reversals of Nine-Death Blood Ignition. The pill gave a modest change; the technique returned life as a distinct increase in vigor.
Bai asked whether he would buy another. Yan showed him the source tag and the entry. “The qi gain is small. The appetite shift was clear. I’ll keep the remaining doses separate and test them on another day.”
He checked how much food he could comfortably eat before deciding the test was complete. The meal sat easily, and his stomach did not feel tight. He made a note that the listed appetite effect had changed, but he did not count the meal as proof the pill would work the same way for another person.
Bai accepted the payment for the pill. “At least this one came with a tag I can defend.”
He checked the batch against the route book and asked Yan how many doses remained in the packet. Yan had not opened it yet; the measured dose had come from a different, already purchased pill. They had a single new sealed packet from Bai. Yan wrote the purchase time and batch in his reject map, then left the dose and result lines blank until he tested it.
“Your record is slower than my route book,” Bai said.
“It needs to be. I’m testing one effect at a time.”
“Then I should charge you by the hour.”
“Charge the courier fee we agreed.”
Bai smiled and closed his book. “That’s why the book says one fee.”
Gu asked Yan to describe the three technique results without referring to the pill. Yan said each activation produced the same sequence: blood-colored qi and strength, a cold pull at the chest, then warmth and renewed vigor. The contribution felt smaller against his growing strength, but he did not feel a debt or weakness later.
“Those are your observations,” Gu said. “Keep them together. The pill gets a separate page.”
Yan nodded. He wrote the three pulse times and the three descriptions under Nine-Death Blood Ignition, then folded the page over its red warning. He did not write that every life-burning technique would respond the same way.
Later, Yan sat at the table with the labeled weak qi pill. Yan felt the benefit from the technique and the smaller pill result without confusing them. Gu wrote no theory about why the System worked. He kept the observed effects and their separate costs on the page.