Runes • Rifles • Reincarnation
51. Quantum Refinement Method

Bang!

Jin Shu stumbled and landed face-first on the ground. He struggled to get up, his hands and feet flailing in completely different directions.

“Damn it, kid! Stop messing around,” he growled, his frustration directed inward.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t lift your leg!” another voice snapped back… his own.

This routine had been playing out for the past week as his two psyches vied for control, each attempting to maneuver a portion of his body. He was practicing the Dragon Ascending, Tiger Descending Steps—or as he’d taken to calling it, Dragon-Tiger Steps.

The two psyches were utterly uncoordinated.

“Pfft!” A barely suppressed laugh echoed from around a corner.

It was Tian Li. For the past week, she’d been following her own routine of secretly stalking Yin’er. And since Yin’er had barely left Jin Shu’s side, Tian Li had been lurking around him as well. Too timid to approach, she always hid nearby.

Jin Shu’s main psyche took control, and he picked himself up, dusting dirt from his clothes and spitting out a mouthful of grit.

“Tian Li, you don’t have to hide,” he called out, softening his tone to sound as disarming as possible. “You can come over and play with Yin’er if you’d like.”

“Hic!” A startled hiccup escaped Tian Li as she peeked her head around the corner. Hearing him address her directly made her duck back in a panic.

“Daddy!” Yin’er pouted, glaring at Jin Shu for calling Tian Li over.

Jin Shu sighed, feeling like he was running a daycare for unruly children. Between his two constantly bickering psyches, a rebellious daughter, and her stalker, his patience was stretched thin.

On top of that, he was practicing a technique that was for all intents and purposes impossible to master.

He was about to lose his mind.

Luckily, at that moment, Nano spoke for the first time in a week.

“Our simulations are complete. We now have a fully functional cultivation technique.”

Jin Shu blinked, startled by Nano’s sudden voice. “It’s done?”

“Yes. We apologize for the delay. We had to utilize numerous theoretical principles not present in our previous universe and even adjust our own programming to run the simulations,” Nano explained, launching into a detailed account of the challenges it faced in crafting the technique.

Jin Shu, however, only cared about one thing.

“It won’t make me impotent, right?”

“...” Nano paused briefly before replying. “No.”

“Great!” Jin Shu accidentally shouted louder than intended, drawing curious looks from Yin’er and Tian Li, who peeked around the corner again.

He waved them off and switched to inward communication with Nano.

So, tell me. What is this technique? he asked, his excitement barely contained.

“We will transmit it to your mind,” Nano replied.

An instant later, a deluge of information flooded Jin Shu’s brain.

It began with the name of the cultivation technique: Quantum Refinement Method.

Then came the explanation of its inner workings.

…Except there was nothing.

Uh… Nano? You only gave me a name.

“That is because this cultivation technique is unique in that you do not need to do anything,” Nano replied.

What does that even mean?

“We will cultivate for you. The nanobots in your body will draw in qi and deliver it to the dantian. From there, the main Nano unit will refine the qi for your use.”

So… I don’t have to do anything? I can just set my cultivation to auto, like a mobile game?

“Correct.”

Jin Shu didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, it sounded like the perfect cultivation technique. But on the other hand, it felt strange to rely entirely on something else.

No, I’ve been over this before, he reminded himself. If I want to survive in this world, I’ll have to use every advantage I can get.

Alright, do it, he told Nano.

“We have already started.”

Oh…

He closed his eyes and focused inward. Without any effort on his part, he felt qi being drawn in through his pores, circulating through his body, and finally gathering in his dantian, steadily increasing his cultivation.

This is amazing. He marveled at the efficiency. How much faster does this make my cultivation?

“The technique will run 24/7. Since you normally cultivate for six hours each night, this method is theoretically twenty-eight times faster,” Nano explained.

“Twenty-eight times?!” Jin Shu exclaimed aloud, startling himself.

“What are you shouting about?” a voice asked nearby.

Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was Biyu’s face, far too close for comfort. She was staring at him with a mix of curiosity and bewilderment.

He quickly stepped back. “Oh, I was just practicing a new technique. Its effectiveness surprised me.”

She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity deepening. “Really? What kind of technique?”

He hesitated, unsure how to explain. He couldn’t exactly say that the nanobots in his dantian had created an automated cultivation technique without sounding completely insane.

“Um, just… my cultivation technique,” he answered vaguely, hoping she wouldn’t press further.

Before she could respond, a sudden shout broke the moment.

“Aaaah! Daddy, save meee!”

Jin Shu leaned around Biyu to see what was happening. He spotted Tian Li scooping up the previously napping Yin’er and hurriedly running off with her.

For a moment, he stood frozen, too stunned to react.

Biyu offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t refuse Senior Sister Tian Li…”

It was clear now. Biyu had been sent to distract him while Tian Li made her move.

Jin Shu shrugged, shaking his head in exasperation. “She doesn’t need to sneak around. She could just ask to play with her.”

Biyu chuckled softly. “Normally, she wouldn’t. She’s like a calm older sister to all the sect’s disciples. But… she has a phobia of men.”

“So I’ve heard,” Jin Shu replied with a knowing nod.

“Right,” Biyu said, returning the gesture. “How’s your progress with the movement technique?”

He simply pointed to his dirt-streaked robes.

“Oh, that good?” she teased, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Uh-huh,” he muttered dismissively. “I’m going to keep practicing. Don’t mind if I start talking to myself—it’s… uh, part of my process.”

She raised an eyebrow but laughed softly. “That sounds like an interesting process.” Moving to the side, she added, “I’ll wait here, if you don’t mind.”

“Suit yourself.” Jin Shu waved her off and turned back toward the open training field.

His main psyche withdrew, allowing the other two to take control. The adult psyche took over the left side of his body, embodying the Dragon, while the younger psyche controlled the right, acting as the Tiger.

“Don’t embarrass us in front of Biyu,” the young psyche muttered through the right side of his mouth.

The left side of his face twisted into a grimace. “Shut up.”

We need to figure out the principles behind this technique. So both of you—focus! the main psyche, technically the youngest of the three, reprimanded them.

“What do we need to do?” the adult psyche asked from the left side.

I’m not sure… but maybe try synchronizing your movements—just in opposite directions? the main psyche suggested uncertainly.

“How’s that supposed to work?” the young psyche retorted from the right.

The main psyche gave a spiritual shrug. I don’t know. It’s the best idea I’ve got.

“Whatever. Let’s just try it,” the left side grumbled.

Okay. Right foot forward, left foot back. Same time, the main psyche instructed.

Both sides followed the order perfectly, but moving both feet simultaneously threw off their balance.

Bang!

Jin Shu crashed to the ground yet again. His left side attempted to break the fall with a roll, while his right side tried to catch them with an outstretched hand. The conflicting movements only made the impact harder.

From behind him came the unmistakable sound of laughter.

He glanced back to see Biyu casually inspecting her nails, as though she hadn’t been the one laughing. Yet the slight quiver of her lips, angled just so, betrayed her amusement.

“Look, you’re embarrassing us!” Kid Jin Shu shouted from the right side.

“I would’ve saved us from the fall if you hadn’t been messing around,” Adult Jin Shu retorted from the left.

“Both of you, shut up!” the main psyche snapped, taking back control. “This clearly isn’t working.”

You don’t say, Kid Jin Shu scoffed inwardly.

“Let’s keep trying. I’m sure we’ll figure something out eventually,” Jin Shu told the other two with forced optimism.

For the next hour, he continued practicing, though with little success. Aside from improving his ability to catch himself during falls, nothing meaningful changed.

Eventually, Biyu stepped in to stop him—though not before having her fill of laughter at his expense.

“Jin Shu, I think you’re going about this technique the wrong way,” she said, her voice tinged with both worry and amusement as she approached after his umpteenth fall.

Jin Shu sat up, brushing dirt off his robes. “What do you mean?”

She extended a hand toward him, and Jin Shu instinctively grabbed it. Biyu blinked, confused.

“I wanted to ask to see the technique…”

“Oh…” Embarrassed, he quickly retracted his hand and instead pulled out the scroll, handing it to her.

She skimmed through the scroll, her brow furrowing slightly. After a moment, she glanced back at him. “Are you trying to master the principles of this technique?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“But you’re using training meant for the practical execution of it?”

“Huh?” Jin Shu’s eyes widened. “How else am I supposed to train?”

“By focusing on the principles,” Biyu replied, her tone suggesting it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?”

She shook her head. “No. What you’re doing is a strange, improvised method based on the practical instructions.”

She pointed to a section of the scroll that outlined practices for the technique.

“See here? This part is for an inner qi technique that gives a burst of energy to your movements.” Then her finger traveled upward to the introduction. “And this is the section on the original technique’s principles. Notice anything missing?”

He squinted at the scroll, then hazarded a guess. “No practical instructions?”

“Exactly. Do you know why?”

He hesitated. “Because… Aunt Chen said they were impossible to practice?” His tone betrayed his uncertainty.

Biyu gave him a curious look, her expression caught somewhere between confusion and amusement. “No. It’s because the principles are meant to be understood through your own view of the worldly laws.”

“The… what?” he asked, blinking blankly.

“The worldly laws,” she repeated. “They’re the fundamental truths that govern our world, similar to the heavenly laws said to govern Xianjie—what some call the World of Immortals.”

His expression didn’t change, and the confusion on his face only deepened. She sighed and tried again.

“Okay, let me put it this way.” She pointed back to the principles on the scroll. “This part explains the relationship between the Dragon and the Tiger, right?”

He nodded slowly.

“So, where does it say anything about splitting your actions?”

“Uhhh…? It doesn’t…”

“Exactly. Instead of trying to practice by doing two nonsensical things at once, shouldn’t you be focusing on what the principles are trying to tell you?”

“What they’re trying to tell me?” He scratched the back of his head, the confusion in his mind clearly reflected in his tone.

“Yes.” She nodded and pointed to a specific line on the scroll. “Take this, for example: ‘The Dragon commands the clouds.’ It’s straightforward and aligns with a worldly law.”

“And that is…?” Jin Shu leaned in, waiting eagerly for her answer.

“That dragons created the clouds. Before dragons created clouds and tigers brought wind, there was no rain.” She paused and looked him squarely in the eyes. “That’s a worldly law.”

“That’s a worldly law? Not, like, gravity or something?” he asked, his confusion returning in full force.

“Gravity is a principle, not a law,” she stated matter-of-factly.

His jaw dropped, leaving him at a loss for words.

Noticing his stunned expression, Biyu sighed again.

“There are a surprising number of people who think gravity is a law,” she said gently. “But gravity can be influenced by certain conditions, making it a principle, not a law. Laws, by definition, are constant.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Jin Shu admitted, nodding slowly. “But I still don’t understand how dragons and tigers are laws.”

“Oh, that’s my fault.” She offered an apologetic smile. “It’s not that all dragons and tigers are laws, or that they can command elements. It’s the dragon and tiger—two of the divine beasts: the Azure Dragon of the East and the White Tiger of the West.”

“And they’re laws?”

“Not exactly,” she said, shaking her head. “They created the laws, alongside the King of Beasts—the Qilin.”

The sheer volume of information was overwhelming him, so he decided to steer the conversation back to the movement technique.

“Okay, so how does all this relate to the technique?”

“It’s about how the principles of techniques are understood—through the worldly laws.” She pointed back at the scroll. “This technique has been deciphered by others, but they couldn’t translate their understanding into practice.”

He nodded, signaling her to go on.

“I don’t know this specific technique,” she admitted. “But other techniques based on creatures often require you to first understand the essence of that creature.”

“So, I need to understand the divine beasts?”

“Not necessarily. You already have a tiger. You could start with understanding her.”

As if on cue, a high-pitched voice rang out from the distance. It was unmistakably Yin’er.