Lin Fang shrugged, sheathing the blade. “It’s just preference. Daggers feel more natural. Faster. Closer. I like ending things before the enemy even knows I’m there.”

“You’re the holder of the system,” Alpha replied calmly. “Preference is temporary. Limitations are optional.”

Lin Fang snorted quietly. “That sounds like something a system spirit would say.”

Alpha didn’t deny it. “Think about it. Swords, daggers, bows, spears. Magic, close combat, long-range suppression. There’s nothing stopping you from mastering all of it eventually.”

Lin Fang leaned back against the fading boundary of the Training Grounds, crossing his arms as he considered that. “Eventually,” he repeated. “That word does a lot of heavy lifting.”

“All you need is proper guidance,” Alpha continued. “A good teacher shortens the path.”

That struck closer than Lin Fang expected.

He was quiet for a moment before replying. “I did get a legacy,” he said at last. “On paper, it sounds great. Sword instincts, dagger instincts. My body moves like it knows what it’s doing even when my mind doesn’t.”

Alpha waited, letting him continue.

“But that’s all it is,” Lin Fang said, voice lower now. “Instincts. Muscle memory. When things get complicated, when timing and judgment really matter… I’m still figuring it out on my own.”

Alpha responded gently, “That’s because a legacy doesn’t give you experience. It can’t.”

Lin Fang tilted his head slightly. “Go on.”

“Instincts are shortcuts,” Alpha explained. “They make learning easier. Faster. If Li Chengfeng was skilled with a bow, you won’t struggle to understand archery. Your body will already know how to draw, aim, and release. But that doesn’t mean you can hit a target you can’t see, in a storm, while wounded.”

Lin Fang clicked his tongue softly. “So I inherited the how, not the when.”

“Exactly,” Alpha said. “Mastery is forged through repetition, mistakes, near-death moments, and choices made under pressure. No legacy can hand that over.”

Lin Fang sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Figures.”

After a pause, he added, half to himself, “I guess I can afford private tutors now. Swords, daggers, maybe even archery. Money isn’t exactly an issue anymore.”

Alpha hummed thoughtfully. “That’s one option.”

“And the other?” Lin Fang asked, already guessing.

“You could look for your master.”

Lin Fang’s expression tightened immediately. The faint humor drained from his face as he shook his head. “No.”

Alpha didn’t push right away, but Lin Fang continued anyway.

“If meeting him again was possible,” he said quietly, “he wouldn’t have left like that. No explanation. No warning. Just a legacy dumped on me and gone.”

His fingers curled slightly at his side. “Giving me power without teaching me how to wield it properly… that already says enough.”

Alpha fell silent.

After a few seconds, Lin Fang exhaled and straightened, forcing the tension out of his shoulders. “Anyway. No point dwelling on that now.”

He looked around as the Training Grounds fully dissolved, the white space breaking apart like mist under sunlight. “It’s time to wake up.”

*Ding!

[You are exiting Training Grounds.]

Lin Fang opened his eyes.

The city beyond the hotel windows was still half-asleep, bathed in that pale blue light that only existed between night and morning. He stretched slowly, joints popping in quiet protest, then rolled out of bed and headed straight for the shower. Warm water washed over him, clearing away the lingering heaviness of sleep and the faint tension that still clung to his thoughts from the night before.

By seven sharp, he was dressed neatly in his best casual wear. Clean, fitted, simple.

Xuan Hei sprawled across the back of his head, tiny paws hooked around his hair like a plush ornament. Her chin rested on the crown of his head, tail flicking lazily as if it owned the place.

“You’re getting heavy,” Lin Fang muttered, reaching up to steady her.

Xuan Hei answered by tightening her grip and letting out a soft, pleased hum.

“Traitor,” he sighed, giving up.

He stepped into the hallway and walked to Room 407, stopping in front of the door. After a brief pause, he leaned in and spoke toward the communicator.

“It’s me. Lin Fang.”

A moment passed.

“Coming,” Zhi Yan’s voice answered from inside, slightly breathless.

The door slid open.

Lin Fang froze.

Zhi Yan stood there in morning workout shorts and a simple white vest clinging to her skin, dark hair damp and tied back loosely. A towel hung around her neck, soaked through, and there was a faint sheen of sweat on her collarbone. She looked flushed, alive, clearly fresh from training.

Lin Fang’s brain short-circuited.

His eyes flicked down for half a second before he snapped his gaze to the wall beside her, face heating instantly.

“Wh–what’s with that getup?” he blurted, words tumbling over each other. “I mean—I know you have a fitness room but your—your—”

He gestured vaguely in her direction without looking, hand flailing uselessly.

Zhi Yan blinked once.

Then twice.

“What?” she asked, genuinely confused. “This is just normal workout clothes.”

Lin Fang swallowed hard, still staring at the wall like it held the secrets of the universe. “I know that, it’s just that your—your—”

He pointed again, this time closer to her chest, then stopped mid-motion.

Zhi Yan followed the gesture, glanced down… and realized.

Her eyes widened.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips as she yelped and crossed her arms over herself, spinning around in one swift motion.

“Ah! Don’t look!” she exclaimed, already retreating into the room. “Sit! Sit down! I’ll be right back!”

The door slid shut with a soft thud.

Lin Fang stood there in the hallway, face burning, heart thumping far louder than it had any right to.

“I wasn’t looking,” he muttered weakly to no one.

Xuan Hei lifted her head slightly, golden eyes glinting with unmistakable amusement.

“Don’t judge me,” Lin Fang whispered.

Inside the suite, Zhi Yan leaned back against the bedroom door, towel clutched tightly in her hands.

“Idiot. Idiot. Idiot,” she muttered under her breath, pressing her forehead to the wood. “What kind of impression is that? Opening the door like that…”

She peeked toward the bed where Li Liu was still asleep, wrapped comfortably in the blankets, breathing evenly.

“Calm down and take a deep breath,” Zhi Yan told herself quietly. “It’s just Li Liu’s boyfriend…”

That somehow made it feel like it is even worse.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep