10: Chapter 10: I'm not listening to the nonsense on the radio anymore!

Chen Fan stood in the center of the gravel-paved training ground, cold sweat from the back of his neck sliding down his spine into his collar.

The distorted radio voice from just now was like a thin needle, still pricking his eardrums—"child of destiny... Data anomaly rate exceeding limit... Initiating purge protocol..." When the system notification tone suddenly rose in pitch, he clearly saw the pupils of several nearby players shrink to pinpoints.

"Brother Fan?" Xiao Lin's voice drifted over from the left, with a slightly trembling, fawning tone. "Are you... going to enter a dungeon?

Can I team up with you?"

Chen Fan didn't look back.

He stared at his trembling right hand; his knuckles still felt the numbness from the Triple Critical Hit—of those three punches just now, the system only recorded the final Bronze Chest reward, while the two critical hit determinations in between seemed to have been erased by an eraser.

He reached into his pants pocket; the bronze bell shard hidden in the interlayer of his shoe sole suddenly grew hot, burning his palm red even through two layers of fabric.

"I'm not going." He gripped the bronze bell shard tightly and deliberately brushed off Xiao Lin's reaching hand as he turned. "I feel like taking a walk today."

Outside the training ground's wire mesh was an old alleyway; the bluestones shimmered with a cold light after the rain, and the moss at the base of the walls creaked underfoot.

Chen Fan walked very slowly, confirming with every step—the system didn't send a teleportation prompt, nor did it pop up a "Violating Team Departure" warning.

When that red lantern emerged from the mist at the alley entrance, he heard a low chuckle rumble in his throat.

A corner of the "Frost Moon Teahouse" wooden sign was lifted by the wind, and the bronze bell on the door knocker jingled softly.

The moment Chen Fan pushed open the door, the steaming aroma of tea surged out, wrapped in warmth.

Xiao Tao ran out from the back hall carrying a celadon tray, water droplets still clinging to the tips of her hair. Seeing him, her eyes immediately curved into crescents: "Young Master, you've finally come!

The proprietress said the 'commotion' inside you is more intense than last time; the tea has been warmed three times already."

Chen Fan noticed half a blade of foxtail grass clinging to her cuff, with dewdrops still condensed on the tip.

This was the spiritual herb Su Shuang had mentioned last time, saying it could suppress system fluctuations.

He was just about to speak when the soft tinkling of jade ornaments came from behind the screen, and the shadow of a moon-white qipao drifted over first.

"Sit down." Su Shuang's voice was like silk soaked in snow water. As she took a seat opposite Chen Fan, the silver hairpin in her hair swept across the tabletop. "You heard something you shouldn't have."

Chen Fan's Adam's apple bobbed.

He thought of the static on the radio half an hour ago, the critical hit records the system had deliberately erased, and the memories not his own that flashed through his mind when the bronze bell shard grew hot—red eyes, fox tails, and clansmen swallowed by black mist.

"Drink." Su Shuang pushed over a cup of amber tea, fine beads of water condensed on the side. "It can suppress the restlessness within you."

Chen Fan stared at his reflection wavering in the tea—the bloodshot lines in his eyes hadn't fully faded, and the corrosive wound on his left arm from yesterday's dungeon still looked purple.

He took a sip, and warmth rolled from his throat into his stomach like he had swallowed a ball of live charcoal.

Looking at his arm again, the purple spots were fading at a visible rate, and the scab at the edge of the wound fell off with a "snap," revealing fresh, pale pink skin.

"The system's beginner healing potion takes three days of application," he said hoarsely. "This tea... is ten times stronger than that."

Su Shuang's fingertips brushed over the cloud patterns on the edge of the teacup. "Some things were never meant to be defined by the system." When she looked up, her gaze was like a cold pool. "I can smell the critical hits on you.

They weren't given by the system; you struck them out yourself."

Chen Fan gripped the bronze bell shard in his pocket tightly.

The shard was no longer hot; instead, it was bone-chillingly cold, as if responding to Su Shuang's words.

Just as he was about to ask, Xiao Tao suddenly poked her head out from behind the screen, her index finger pressed to her lips: "Proprietress, Old Wu is here again."

A corner of the door curtain was lifted by the wind, and the tip of Old Wu's cane tapped onto the bluestones first.

This old man always wore a pair of copper coin glasses, his gaze gloomy behind the lenses. Today, he leaned on a wooden staff carved with cloud patterns, and a half-section of blue light peeked from his sleeve—Chen Fan squinted; it was the scanning wave of a system monitor.

"You're in good spirits, young friend." Old Wu sat at the table next to Chen Fan, his cane thumping heavily against the ground. "System potions are the righteous path; unorthodox sorcery..." His gaze behind the lenses swept over Su Shuang, "...will sooner or later lead to self-destruction."

Su Shuang picked up her teacup and took a small sip, her eyelashes casting butterfly-wing shadows under her eyes. "Why doesn't Mr. Wu try this tea?

I specifically saved a cold cup."

Old Wu's face instantly turned pale.

He stared at the teacup Xiao Tao handed him, his Adam's apple bobbing. He suddenly slapped the table and stood up: "Wickedness!" The tip of his cane poked the ground, and a blue light flared intensely. "The system already stated that gathering is prohibited in non-mission zones. You all..."

"Mr. Wu," Su Shuang's voice suddenly turned cold. "It is currently the Third Quarter of the Hour of the Dog, the system-mandated free activity time." Her fingertip grazed the tabletop, and a blade of foxtail grass drifted to Old Wu's feet. "On the other hand, you keep running to the Teahouse; could it be that you also want a cup of tea brewed with 'sorcery'?"

Old Wu's cane fell to the ground with a "clang."

When he bent down to pick it up, Chen Fan saw a grayish-green scale on the back of his neck—like the skin of some kind of demon.

When the old man looked up, he had regained his gentle appearance. As he picked up his cane, he smiled at Chen Fan: "Young friend, take my advice and stay away from these supernatural things."

Chen Fan didn't respond.

He watched the wind stirred by Old Wu's departure, which made the teacup on the table wobble slightly.

Xiao Tao leaned in, her voice like the humming of a mosquito: "The proprietress's tea only works for 'those with destiny'.

Old Wu drank it yesterday and spent half the night vomiting; his face was as green as a lime."

Chen Fan touched the bronze bell shard, and it began to grow hot again.

He suddenly remembered the "child of destiny" Su Shuang mentioned and the "purge protocol" from the radio; the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

That night, Chen Fan's system panel exploded into a sea of red light.

[Emergency Wanted Order]

Illegal skill [Demon Fox Soul-Inducing Technique] detected spreading among New Players.

Users or those who fail to report will be purged immediately.

Purge range: All Bronze-tier players.

Chen Fan stared at the pop-up window, his fingernails nearly digging into his palms.

[Demon Fox Soul-Inducing Technique]—this was the secret technique Su Shuang mentioned last time that her clansmen used to fight the system.

He grabbed his coat and rushed out the door; the night wind poured into his collar, making him shiver from the cold.

The entrance to the alley where the Frost Moon Teahouse was located glowed with a ghastly white light.

As Chen Fan ran closer, he saw three armed players blocking the alley entrance, with Old Wu at the head.

His copper coin glasses reflected a cold light, and he gripped a blue-glowing iron rod in his hand: "The Teahouse is suspected of disrupting system order and is to be sealed off immediately!"

Chen Fan skidded to a halt.

The lantern swayed in the wind. Su Shuang stood inside the door, her moon-white qipao fluttering loudly.

Her fingertips brushed over the door curtain woven from foxtail grass, her voice as soft as a sigh: "Finally... it's time."

Old Wu waved his hand, and the three players raised their iron rods and walked toward the Teahouse.

Chen Fan stared at their raised arms, hearing his own heartbeat drown out the sound of the wind.

He reached for the Blue-grade Iron-clad Saber at his waist, the dark patterns on the hilt pressing painfully into his palm—this time, it was his turn to make the system lose sleep.