Chapter 9: Running Under the Starlight

"What kind of fun things did the 41st century develop? Like mobile games from the 21st century?" Xuan Chong asked the system during a lull in the bloody fighting.

Xuan Chong’s real intention was to prompt the system to give him a "cheat," such as the virtual training spaces found in some novels where one could practice skills. Having just finished a battle, Xuan Chong wanted to learn something during his downtime. He hoped to "fleece" the system, ideally by redeeming something without spending credits.

System: "You are currently a middle school student. Do you wish to experience the difficulty of the National College Entrance Exam?"

Xuan Chong: "What? The college entrance exam?"

...Beside the riverbank by the camp...

Seeing no one around, Xuan Chong asked the system to explain what the exam was. The system prompted that it was a physical education assessment for the fifteenth grade. A familiar melody rang in his ears: the 154th set of calisthenics, "Star Field Sprint," difficulty level: third grade of primary school. "One, two, three, four; five, six, seven, eight."

Xuan Chong: "Stop, stop, stop."

Having performed only three movements, Xuan Chong hurriedly paused the music and questioned the demonstration shown in his perspective: "You’re calling jumping off a six-meter platform and doing a full split 'calisthenics'?"

The system prompted: "Yes. In the 40th century—well, back in the 30th century—people your age could generally complete this."

Xuan Chong fell silent, fearing that if he said anything more, the system would blurt out, "You are the worst generation."

Thus, Xuan Chong decided to try again. A few minutes later, with a thud, he failed a 360-degree spin in the air, causing his cerebellum to slack off and his spatial awareness to vanish. He missed his footing and tumbled.

Recovering, Xuan Chong rummaged through his acquired scientific knowledge and speculated: This must be a physical fitness test for aviation personnel. The ability to maintain a clear sense of direction after a 360-degree rotation was something he’d seen explained in pilot training programs on TV, specifically for maintaining the ability to operate instrument panels under high G-forces.

Xuan Chong tentatively asked: "You say this is a physical education exam. How does one pass?"

System: "The time error for all movements must be within 0.07 seconds, and the positional error for indicators like fingertips must be within 3 millimeters."

Xuan Chong struggled to digest this. His first reaction was: "I don't believe it. This is an exam? How many people can achieve this?" But his reason suppressed his emotions, and he tentatively trusted the system, asking with patience: "To meet this standard, one needs a training system, right?"

Xuan Chong was certain that at the level of science he knew from his previous life, no one could train to this degree naturally.

The system then provided a hint: "Yes, to practice this set of movements, you need to use a 'Body Assessment Instrument'."

Xuan Chong: "What?"

The system continued its dry explanation: "Starting from the 99th set of calisthenics, human physical training has basically been completed with the help of 'Body Assessment Instruments'." — But to Xuan Chong, it felt like the system was doing this on purpose!

...People in the Spring and Autumn period could not understand the term "mobile phone"...

The "Body Assessment Instrument" involved a complex system of human information integration. In the 21st century, smartphones were equipped with electronic gyroscopes; the way screens rotated based on gravity relied on these. They were highly sensitive, but humans could only sense the function of these tiny devices through screen feedback or vibrations.

The "Body Assessment Instrument" system, however, directly linked these tiny components to sensory organs, ensuring humans had first-hand perception of their own bodily movement data. For instance, early air combat involved ground controllers directing flight leaders via radio, who then issued commands to their squadrons. In an information-based system, each pilot could acquire data directly from screens—from ground radar to airborne early warning aircraft and even nearby drones—which the aircraft’s system would integrate into the pilot's full situational awareness in under a second.

Air combat with such a system was a total碾压 (crushing) victory over one without. The guidance traditional martial arts masters gave their disciples, or the critiques coaches gave athletes after a routine, appeared archaic by future standards. Martial artists and athletes couldn't know their mistakes in real-time; they needed feedback from a coach.

But the Body Assessment Instrument? A multitude of micro-electronic devices on the wrists, ankles, and even knees collected information, providing visual and auditory cues in real-time. There was no need to wait for a coach’s critique; the integrated evaluation system provided precise corrective information while the movement was in progress.

This "Body Assessment Instrument" technology was developed at the end of the 21st century for selecting athletes for international games. At the time, poor countries relied on drugs to squeeze out potential, while powerful nations used technology. In late 21st-century internet novels, themes of "otherworldly leveling and cultivation" had moved away from master-apprentice traditions, focusing instead on building such systems.

And after the 22nd century?

The system prattled on: After the 22nd century, with the progress of integrating neurons with external electronic devices, "physical education" underwent a major revolution. The physical standards of pilots and athletes from a century ago could be mass-produced through systemic education.

Xuan Chong caught the implication: the stuff these future people made would lower the threshold for national-level athletes, and once the threshold dropped, the general public could get involved. When everyone is involved, it becomes a competition, and competition leads to "involution"—the children of the 22nd century were truly pitiable.

...Recognizing the future, acknowledging the archaic...

Understanding the situation, Xuan Chong felt embarrassed by his earlier foolish attempts. Blushing, he forced himself to stay calm. He wondered if the system had done this on purpose, waiting for him to make a fool of himself before explaining—yes, it must have been intentional. But to blame the system would be beneath him.

Xuan Chong took a deep breath and asked: "So, without equipment assistance, I can't practice?"

System: "You can practice. By redeeming 0.2 credits, you can apply for a 'Tier 1 Stasis-Body Physical Auxiliary System' for training. You currently have 3.2 credits. Do you wish to redeem? I suggest you do. Although future PE teachers would arrange things according to a set curriculum, I do not object to a confident person like you skipping grades to access such courses."

...Xuan Chong realized that ever since he wanted to fleece the system, it had been waiting for this moment, waiting for him to perform a spectacle of hitting a wall before bringing this up...

Xuan Chong didn't dwell on the fact that "skipping grades" cost credits. Instead, with fire in his eyes, he demanded: "Earlier I asked if you had any auxiliary cultivation materials, and you said no! Why are you only saying this now?"

System: "First, the word 'cultivation' is not in my database; 'Stasis-Body Technique' belongs to 'Physical Education' and is responsible for physical development. Second, I am responsible for history teaching, not your PE teacher."

Hearing the topic steer toward his "low basic education level," Xuan Chong quickly shut up. This concerned whether his "student status" even existed. Since he only remembered the 21st century, how did this 40th-century education system choose him? If the system got serious and he couldn't explain, and his "student status" was revoked, he would have no one to cry to in this strange world.

...Xuan Chong defaulted to the idea that "whoever pays the salary gets to define the rules"...

As white light seeped into his body from the outside, Xuan Chong couldn't help but ask: "System, this isn't really an 'immersion' brain-dump, is it?"

The system didn't answer, displaying "Surgery in Progress" on the screen. Three minutes later, Xuan Chong completed the input for the Body Positioning Instrument. 637 points—including ears, arms, and soles—were injected with "unknown information," completing a calibration similar to "acupuncture points." Among these, twelve points lit up like "bright lamps."

The system popped up a set of explanatory notes: this "Body Assessment Instrument" wasn't made of inorganic micro-chips from Earth, but of organic energy from this plane, so one had to be careful with certain taboos to ensure the stability of the system.

Xuan Chong scanned the notes and saw a line for users: "The Body Assessment Instrument requires stability; in the current environment, the emotional fluctuations of external groups will interfere with the sensitivity of each component."

Hmm? The emotions of others could affect his "Body Assessment Instrument"? He pondered: in this world, the "Human Path" could affect the distribution of spiritual energy, so he would assume this system within him was composed of the world's "spiritual energy." He had to maintain basic order in his interpersonal environment. "Camp riots" were clearly examples of lost order, which would produce unknown interference and accelerate the wear of the energy structure of the "Body Assessment Instrument" inside him.

Xuan Chong concluded: he still had to command troops. Relying on being a lone, unrivaled wanderer was impossible.

...Ten days later...

Xuan Chong was riding a dragon-horse when he suddenly leaned over to one side, fluidly drew a bow, expanded his waist, and then exerted force with his arms. The bowstring was pulled taut, and as the bow opened, Xuan Chong swung back onto the horse's back. The arrow was aimed at a bird in the distance. With a *twang*, the arrow flew toward the target with extreme speed, swaying slightly. A breath later, the arrow pierced the bird's wing, and it fell.

This series of movements—drawing a bow on horseback—was something Xuan Chong had trained for based on the data provided by the "Body Assessment Instrument."

Xuan Chong still lacked the guts to charge into battle, but he was confident in starting with archery. This didn't require close-quarters combat, and under the system’s guidance, the danger of falling while performing large movements on horseback was now something he could handle with ease.

His personal guards cheered and ran toward where the bird fell to retrieve it for him.

This was the first time Xuan Chong had shown off his skills. A few days ago, he was still practicing alone, worrying about falling off the horse because of the bumpy ride. But his progress was rapid; he could now anticipate the horse's movements and use his legs to grip the back tightly to maintain stability.

It felt like returning to his youth, when he could climb ten-meter-high trees without a tremor. Xuan Chong was now fourteen—the age where one learns everything quickly, but also the age of being overly ambitious and rash.

...In the 21st century, it wasn't just the youth who were addicted to phones; the middle-aged and elderly were too...

After drawing his bow again, Xuan Chong arched his waist and puffed out his chest, using his waist to power the draw. He locked his eyes on the target, his movements calibrating to the angle of his vision like a conditioned reflex. He timed the shot based on his heartbeat and released it at the precise moment. A wild boar running fifty paces away collapsed at the sound.

As an "ancient," Xuan Chong had become addicted to the Body Assessment Instrument once he grasped its techniques.

Ten days to reach this level of mounted archery wasn't because Xuan Chong was a genius, but because the instrument allowed for direct movement programming.

How powerful was this thing?

The human body's neural conduction speed wasn't the fastest; for example, in Olympic sprinting, reaction speed was fixed at "0.100 seconds." Anything faster was a false start. Many people watching table tennis would have their eyes follow the ball, but their hands wouldn't react. Because the eyes see it and transmit it to the brain, and the brain transmits it to the hands—the eyes are close to the brain, but the hands and feet are far and require constant coordination training.

But if you built an external transmission chain (an external neural link), the electrical signal transmission was instantaneous. The moment the eyes saw the target, the arms and feet received micro-electrical signal stimulation from the "tactile sensors" on the skin, moving instantly to the correct position. For the user, the feedback from their body was incredibly strong—if the movement was incorrect, it hurt.

Once the trainer got the movement right once, the "Body Assessment Instrument" would integrate all sensor information as a successful case. The user would then repeat the movement in a safe state to reinforce muscle memory. During actual practice, if there was a deviation, the system would adjust it, and the user would perform deviation training. This was movement programming.

After the 22nd century, athletes were required to have no inorganic matter on their bodies except for clothing, but in fields like national defense, firefighting, and cross-country, everyone used this system. After the Great Nuclear War, instead of using artificial "carbon-titanium composite" external nerves, they used Wi-Fi to integrate sensor information, making it more miniaturized and allowing everyone to become an extreme athlete.

As for the basis of the system Xuan Chong had, it wasn't Earth’s electronic components, but the spiritual energy of this world. Building a system with this stuff reminded him of a familiar term: "Eight Extraordinary Meridians."

After becoming an expert in mounted archery within ten days, Xuan Chong wanted to try other movements. He looked at the fortress. A few days later, a wall was heightened, and Xuan Chong began his approach, stepping on protrusions to climb. This was called "The First to Ascend!"

In the evening, having jumped onto the high platform of his tent with a single leap, Xuan Chong sighed: Who needs "lightness skill manuals"? I am now a martial arts genius with one-in-a-million talent, capable of creating my own divine skills! With a smug laugh, he looked up at the stars, imagining he was on a battlefield, and after he ascended, the soldiers around him would cheer, "The General is truly a god among men."

To the soldiers in the camp, Xuan Chong was acting strangely, jumping around like a monkey. But the men who had just shared the spoils of war were understanding: after the Battle of Dacang, the young general was finally letting off some steam.

...One can be crazy for a while, but not for a lifetime...

That night, Xuan Chong’s smugness met its retribution. He was restless in his sleep, kicking the quilt off several times.

The next morning, Xuan Chong looked at his ruined bed in surprise, then speculated he had been too excited yesterday. He opened the system again to check the usage notes for the "Body Assessment Instrument." A red line of text was highlighted: "Because your current neural system is still developing, it is best not to over-link to external nerves; you need to proceed gradually."

Sidebar: This meant that when the eyes saw something, the legs would immediately be stimulated to start, but the side effect was that during sleep, when control over the body was weak, the legs would trigger themselves at the slightest stimulation. Normally, signals travel from the brain to the spine to the legs—a bit slower, but stable.

Xuan Chong: "Oh, is that the only side effect? Can't I just make a sleeping bag to fix it?"

System: "That is only the mildest side effect."

Xuan Chong froze.

The system noted: "The level of activity in your reconstructed motor nerves is equivalent to that of a normal five-to-six-year-old. At this stage, neural control is insufficient; it’s not just kicking the quilt! You should prepare diapers."

Xuan Chong was immediately on guard.

System: "If you are too excited during the day, any dream stimulation at night will trigger a response, and at your age, your reproductive system is also quite developed."

Xuan Chong understood instantly. This was the age where one might wake up to find "snot" in one's pants for no reason.

Xuan Chong gritted his teeth and decided: "Understood, I will reduce unnecessary stimulation."

...The divider of youthful enthusiasm...

That night, Xiao Qing carried fish soup into the tent. Her purple lips parted, ready to serve the young master, prepared to fulfill her duties as a maid.

Xuan Chong, who was sitting cross-legged, preparing to let his motor nerves rest before sleep, didn't look up and said: "Oh, thanks, I’ve already eaten. I'm currently adjusting my body, and all my meals are rationed, so don't bring any more. Well, the war is over, you don't need to stay in my main tent; go out and get some fresh air." (Meaning, young master is granting you freedom.)

Regarding the snake-playing, Xuan Chong thought: *I don't eat sashimi.*

One had to be careful with the rumors of Southern border women using gu-poison, not to mention he was currently cultivating.

The tent flap closed, and the snake girl walked out with vacant eyes, her body swaying as if her bones had been pulled out. After a long while, a miserable smile appeared on her lips: "Even now, as a beast of burden, am I not allowed?" She turned and left, dejected.

...Purple retreats, blue advances...

Six hundred miles away, a pair of wind-thunder wings streaked through the mountains. Wherever they passed, they emitted a ghostly blue flame that squeezed the life out of everything within ten feet like a press.

Beneath the wind-thunder wings was a woman in blue metal armor—the martial sister of the Daoist Xian!