Li Wei's eighth birthday came and went with little fanfare, except for one thing: he was now known in the village as "the boy who moves like a tiger." While other kids were busy trying to outdo each other by balancing on fences or sneaking extra dumplings at dinner, Li Wei was mastering the Tiger Boxing Manual. He had six of the ten poses down, earning him three stars of mastery, which sounded impressive. At least, to anyone who didn't have a magic status screen telling them otherwise.
Tiger Boxing Manual [3/5 stars]
Li Wei looked at the notification hovering in his mind's eye. This was his cheat—his "Bronze Finger" system. And unlike the golden-fingered heroes he'd read about in his past life, who had unlimited power and rewards, Li Wei's system had exactly one feature: it showed his progress.
It didn't give him new skills. It didn't spit out magical treasures. It didn't say "congratulations" when he reached a milestone. Nope, it just sat there like a lazy shopkeeper, occasionally updating him with a number.
Right now, that number was:
Progress to 4 stars: [2/100]
"Two," Li Wei muttered to himself. "Two percent? I've been training for months, and that's all I get?"
Bronze Finger, apparently immune to sarcasm, didn't respond. The system's version of motivational coaching was a blank progress bar. Li Wei sighed. He wasn't asking for much—just maybe a "good job!" once in a while. But alas, his cheat didn't care about feelings.
One afternoon, after an intense session of punching air and pretending to be a tiger (as you do), Li Wei found himself listening to a conversation about... salt.
"Salt is where the real power lies," his uncle, Li Bo was telling a group of villagers. "Forget gold. Forget silver. You control the salt, you control everything."
Li Wei tilted his head. Salt? That boring stuff you sprinkle on food? It didn't sound nearly as exciting as, say, martial arts that let you punch through walls. But the more he listened, the more his uncle made sense.
"Every household needs salt," his uncle continued. "No one can go without it. It's in demand, it's essential. The mayor of Longjiang even partnered with us to ensure a steady supply."
Li Wei stared. Was salt the secret key to real-world power? Here he was, breaking his back practicing the Tiger Boxing Manual, and his uncle was out here building an empire based on seasoning. Maybe I should switch to the Salt Boxing Manual, he thought wryly.
But then again, his system probably wouldn't appreciate the joke. The Bronze Finger hadn't even shown him a "salt mastery" stat. Which, given its track record, wasn't surprising.
With the Mountain Worship Festival just around the corner, the village was buzzing with excitement. Li Wei's grandfather was busy preparing for the event, and Li Wei—always curious about strange rituals—decided to ask about the purpose behind it.
"Grandfather," he began, "why do we worship the mountain?"
His grandfather stroked his beard with all the solemnity of someone who's about to impart life-changing wisdom.
"We worship the mountain to keep the spirits away. The mountain protects us. If we don't honor it, it might let the evil spirits out."
Li Wei gave his grandfather a look that said, Really? Evil spirits? He wasn't one to mock traditions, but he had his doubts. Sure, the mountain was big, but it didn't seem the type to be hiding malevolent spirits. He figured it was more likely to hide a family of cranky goats.
Still, Li Wei smiled politely and nodded along. His Bronze Finger wasn't showing any "spirituality" stats, so he figured he was safe from any evil spirits for now.
On the day of the festival, the whole village gathered to offer their respect to the mountain. Li Wei, ever the dutiful grandson, stood at the front with his family. The elder led the ceremony, chanting to the spirits and offering up food that Li Wei was certain would have been better served at dinner.
As the chants filled the air, Li Wei glanced up at the towering mountain. It was peaceful, serene, and—if he was honest—just a big rock with trees on it. He snuck a peek at his Bronze Finger.
No new notifications. No sudden increase in mastery from attending the festival. Not even a "Congratulations, you've unlocked Mountain Spirit Boxing!" Li Wei sighed. Figures.
Later, while helping clean up after the festival, Li Wei overheard his father and uncles discussing something more interesting than salt: politics. Specifically, the growing influence of the deputy mayor in Longjiang.
"He's not a threat yet," his father said in a low voice, "but we should keep an eye on him. His faction could challenge our position."
Li Wei's ears perked up. Ah, so even in the world of martial arts and mountain-worshipping, there was no escaping politics. He made a mental note: One day, I should figure out how to use this whole 'deputy mayor' business to my advantage. Or maybe just send him some salt. That seems to work for everything.
As the days passed, Li Wei returned to his usual routine: practicing the Tiger Boxing Manual, checking his progress, and occasionally glaring at the Bronze Finger for not speeding things up.
One evening, after a particularly grueling session of the seventh pose—something called "Tiger Pounces on Prey"—he checked his stats again.
Tiger Boxing Manual [3/5 stars]
Progress to 4 stars: [5/100]
"Five percent," Li Wei muttered. "At this rate, I'll hit four stars by the time I'm thirty." He glanced at his reflection in a nearby puddle. His canines looked a little sharper, and his fingernails were definitely tougher. That had to count for something, right? Bronze Finger didn't think so, but Li Wei would take what he could get.
As he lay down to sleep that night, he glanced up at the stars. His journey was slow, yes. But progress was progress. Maybe he didn't have a golden-finger cheat that could turn him into a god overnight, but his Bronze Finger was enough. After all, it wasn't about rushing to the top—it was about enjoying the journey.
And as Li Wei drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but chuckle. Bronze Finger: Not Quite Golden, But It'll Do.