Li Wei checked the stats again.

  His highest stats were intelligence and charisma. His lowest were strength and endurance.

  "How do I play this?" he murmured to himself. "Do I focus on the stats I’m already strong in, to make problem-solving easier? Or do I train the weaker ones to cover my flaws and become more balanced?"

  This world reminded him of the video games from his past life. The ones he used to play as Alex Carter, back when the worst thing he worried about was failing a math test or forgetting a friend’s birthday.

  Now he was living a nightmare difficulty playthrough. One he had chosen.

  Could he cheat the system?

  He might have to. No, he would have to. If he was to survive in this world.

  He glanced again at one of his perks.

  Enhanced Growth Rate.

  Did that mean his stats would grow faster than the average person’s? He hoped so. The Grim Reaper had not sent him here entirely unprepared. She had made a mistake. Claimed his soul instead of the kid who was supposed to die that day. Maybe this was her way of giving him a fighting chance in a grimdark world designed to break people.

  "Now then," he muttered, "which stat to focus on?"

  Strength seemed like the easiest to understand. Punch harder. Swing faster. Break things more efficiently.

  The Kingdom of Jinlong, from what he remembered and what he had lived, reminded him of ancient China. Not the real one from Earth, but a mythical version: full of monsters, magic, and martial arts. The world was cruel and harsh, but it had its beauty too.

  As Li Wei, he had been training since childhood. Backbreaking training in his father's courtyard. His reason had not been some noble dream. It had been survival.

  His older half-brothers had taken great joy in beating him, bruising him, reminding him that he was born from a concubine no one remembered.

  Li Wei had needed to get stronger, just to stay alive.

  In this world, brothers did not love one another. They were rivals. Threats. Obstacles. Eliminating a sibling early meant fewer contenders for inheritance, fewer names on the family ledger. Poisoned tea and rigged sparring matches were not shocking here. They were common. Expected.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  He remembered a time, long ago, when he was Alex. In that life, he had loved his siblings. His older sister teased him, but always had his back. His younger brother borrowed his stuff and never returned it, but always laughed with him afterward. His parents supported him. Loved him.

  Here?

  His mother had died giving birth to him. No name. No keepsake. Just beauty passed down to him like the last light of a dying star.

  His father, Li Baotian, was a bloated, greedy, lecherous noble who remembered his wine list better than the names of his children. He cycled through concubines like one changed shoes, and cared only for status, power, and pleasure.

  And yet, Li Wei had survived.

  He had taken all the pain, all the cruelty, and turned it into fuel. He had trained when no one watched. Endured when others would have broken. And now, with Alex Carter’s mind and experience merged with Li Wei’s hard-earned strength, he was something new.

  Someone who still believed a broken world could be healed.

  Someone who remembered what love and hope felt like.

  Someone who refused to let this place swallow him.

  He closed the stat screen, its glow fading into the air.

  Then he stepped into the training yard.

  The morning air was cool, mist curling around the edges of the stone courtyard like a living thing. He took off his shirt and stood bare-chested under the pale sun. His body was already lean and defined, a result of harsh years spent fighting to survive.

  He dropped into a low stance. Legs bent. Arms loose. Breathing slow.

  The Dragon-Bone Flowing Fist.

  An internal martial arts style. Ancient. Subtle. Passed down by wandering monks who claimed to have once wrestled spirits and danced on the surface of lakes. It focused on breathing, redirection, inner force. Each movement slow, then fast. Soft, then sudden. Like a wave crashing after the pull of the tide.

  Li Wei moved through the first form. Coiling the Earth-Serpent. His feet twisted, weight shifting like a serpent under gravel. His hands traced arcs in the air. His breath was deep and steady.

  Then Rising Crane Greets the Storm. Arms stretched. Spine straight. Power surged up from his heels into his fingers. He twisted into a sharp elbow strike, imagining a foe in front of him.

  He flowed into Tearing the Mountain Veil. A sweep. A spin. A forward thrust.

  Sweat began to bead across his brow.

  Not from exhaustion, but from focus.

  He pushed his body harder, every movement sharper than the last.

  The system pinged softly in the corner of his vision.

  Stat Progression Activated: Strength +0.1

  He smiled.

  Progress. Slow. But real.

  He would train. He would grow. He would bring light where there was none.

  Because if no one else would do it, then he would.

  He had to.

  But his quiet resolve was broken when a sound echoed across the courtyard. Hooves. Fast. Desperate.

  A horse rode through the outer gate. Its legs buckled as it collapsed from exhaustion.

  The rider slid off before the animal even hit the ground. A young woman, dusty and wind-beaten, barely standing.

  Li Wei caught her before she fell.

  "A message," she gasped. "For the Li estate."

  He took the scroll from her hand before the other servants could reach them. The seal was broken. The ink fresh. He unrolled it and read.

  His jaw tightened.

  Rakshasas are attacking the village of Yanshan. Send help before it’s too late.