"Xuě Xīlián…"
Her name leaves my lips like a plea, but she shakes her head violently, her voice breaking.
"Please... Xue'er."
I hesitate, then relent. "Xue'er. Is everything fine back ho—"
Her face crumples before I can finish.
This isn't a single, dignified tear—this is a flood. A dam breaking. Her breath hitches, then shatters into ragged sobs, her shoulders trembling like leaves in a storm.
I don't think. I move.
In one swift motion, I snatch her wrist and pull her from the library, weaving through the maze of bookshelves, past the startled glances of scholars. Her free hand clutches at her chest, as if trying to hold herself together.
The main building is worse—crowded, judging. Whispers rise like ghosts in our wake.
"Isn't that—?"
"Why is she—?"
"Look at her—"
I shield her with my body, my arm a barricade against their stares, and steer her toward the dormitories.
Okay, Not the best idea bringing the apparent heir of Chinese royalty into my room. But fuck it we ball.
We take the spiral stairs two at a time, her breath coming in wet gasps. My student ID slaps against the scanner, the door hisses open, and then—
Silence.
The moment the door seals behind us, she collapses.
Not gracefully. Not quietly.
She folds at the knees, her back hitting the wall as she slides down, her hands clawing at her face like she can rip the pain out. Her cries are raw, unfiltered—the kind of weeping that leaves bruises on the soul.
I stand there, frozen, as Xuě Xīlián, the girl who carried herself like ice and steel through it all, shatters in front of me.
This isn't just sadness.
This is grief.
And all I do… is stand there.
Not out of cruelty. Not out of confusion.
But because I can't move. I don't know what to do. Genuinely.
Because my brain's running Schrödinger's experiment in real time—one box, two outcomes. If I step forward, maybe I can comfort her. Maybe I will become an inhabitant. But if I stay still… She stays data. 1's and 0's. Observable, containable. Untouched by collapse.
She's the waveform. And I refuse to measure it.
I tell myself it's scientific detachment. Observation before interference. But that's a lie. The truth is.
I'm afraid.
Afraid that if I touch her shoulder, the entanglement will be irreversible.
Afraid that this isn't a simulation. That this isn't a trick of light and code.
That her sobs aren't just a high-fidelity rendering of pain, but real.
And real people don't come back.
My mother didn't. Dead people didn't
So I stay where I am.
A human-shaped constant in a decaying frame of reference.
I analyze. I classify. Her breathing spikes. Cortisol levels would be surging. Neurological tremors indicate unfiltered trauma response. There's blood where she bit her lip raw.
She cries like she's collapsing a star inside her chest.
And I just… watch.
Because to comfort her would be to admit this isn't a closed system. That entropy here doesn't trend toward disorder—it trends toward meaning. Toward connection.
And I can't afford that.
Not again.
If I speak, I collapse the illusion.
If I care, I confirm the hypothesis.
If I believe—
I fall.
So I remain still.
She breaks apart like a quantum superstate unraveling under MY observation.
And I choose not to look too closely.
But
If inaction equals data. Observable data, containable data. Untouched data.
Then what about action? Curiosity kills the cat they say. So I will strangle it. For every last. Precious. Delectable. Gourmets of Data stored in Xuě Xīlián
My mind is the spell that will infect this game.
Observation is the operator. I am the prompt and command.
It's not cruel. It's calibration.
Her function. If I can persuade her into teaching Kael how to wield his Phylogenetic Root attribute.
The gap between the EAA's Kael and mine won't just widen.
It will become a chasm.
So I'll persuade her. And when in such a vulnerable state…
My orders would be absolute.
Step 1: Validate her suffering
"Xue'er… are you okay?" False empathy.
"No Isaac. N-no I am honestly not."
"But you didn't kill yourself. You bore their scorn while knowing they could never know the shit you have to go through."
She flinches at the derogatory terms I used. Good, surprise her.
"I do see where they're coming from though."
Again, she stops the sobs to look at me, like a betrayed puppy. Poor girl.
"W-what?"
"I mean, you're like a jack of two trades master of neither."
Her face narrows.
"E-even you…"
"Yes. Yes, even me. But think Xue'er. They call you a failure because their minds are too small. Your culture needs their Golden Cores crutches for mediocrity into some hypothetical realm."
Im growing some pair of balls to diss an entire kingdom but who cares.
"Isaac! Don't— What the fuck? You can't just insult us like that."
"But it's true isn't it? If there were realms above the Nascent Soul then where is the scientific evidence? Can you prove, make conclusions, show results and approximate them?"
"Bu— How can you just assum—"
"Also. If the Jiǔxiāo Empire was so advance in their culture compared to mine. How come you're the segregated minority?"
Yeah… That should piss her—
Her hand shoots out and strangles my throat.
100% pissed her off.
"Don't you fucking dare Isaac!"
"H-hear me out. They outcast you for a reason!"
She strangles harder
"I know that you dumb fuck! You think I don't? Huh?!"
"It's not for the reason you think! It's because you terrify them."
She lightens her grip. I though I was gonna die fuck. Even in the first stage of cultivation, these Chinese are already so fucking strong. Note to self.
"Explain Isaac."
Step 2: Reframe Her Weakness as Strength
"The heavens didn't refuse you, the universe in the form of you refused them. Their tribulations are beneath you. You should just aim higher. Why mourn their approval when you're already in a realm none of them can reach?"
"Why mourn their approval when— what do you mean? You said it yourself. I'm useless in both Magic and Cultivation."
"Then, if the orthodox path rejects you, then walk a greater one. It's not like the academy has rejected you. In fact, why do you think you were even accepted in the first place?"
"Because I'm royalty from the Wǔlín. No matter how much my parents have distanced me, I am still a royal and it is my duty to act befitting one."
Stupid, stupid girl. If I could insult you without dying right now I would.
"Think wider. It's Headmaster Orthelius we're talking about. You think he doesnt know what the fuck your going through? That guy might as well be an omniscient mage."
"Are you suggesting that I was accepted because of something else? Because of my weakness?"
"Change that mindset dumbass. It's not a weakness, it's a strength. Your meridians aren't broken. They're superpositioned. They exist in every state at once—collapsed and uncollapsed, open and closed, finite and infinite. Unless you're content being a piece of shit, use it."
A pause. A deliberate lowering of my voice, now sharp as a scalpel.
"You're literally the first violation of the Pauli Exclusion Principle in a living system. A forced mixture of fermionic qi and bosonic mana in a space that should've torn itself apart at the birth of the universe. And you're crying because some sect elders called you 'weak'? What fucking shit are you giving me Xuě Xīlián?"
Her breath hitches. A flicker of something—doubt? Anger?—before she clenches her jaw.
"Is that so?" Her voice is ice. "Then reverse it. Show me your math. My mana and qi output is garbage, no matter how much I—
She cuts herself off and looks away.
"Prove it."
"I'll show you, just let me go first."
She removes her hands and waits expectantly.
Perfect
Step 3: Proof, Evidence and Beyond