Heavens Judgment

Liu Hao's recovery chamber smelled of medicinal herbs and quiet desperation. Two weeks had passed since his meridian collapse, since Zǔ Zhòu had "saved" him from complete cultivation crippling. Now came the delicate work of reconstruction—building a tool that would thank him for its own transformation.

"How do you feel today, Cousin?" Zǔ Zhòu asked, settling beside the bed with his prepared materials.

Liu Hao managed a weak smile, though pain flickered behind his eyes. "Better when you're here. The healers try, but... your techniques actually help."

Because I designed the injury to respond only to my treatment, Zǔ Zhòu thought while projecting brotherly concern. "Today we'll try something more ambitious. Your meridians have stabilized enough for reconstruction work."

"Reconstruction?" Hope bloomed in Liu Hao's voice. "You mean I might..."

"Advance again? No." Gentle honesty, perfectly calibrated. "The damage is too severe. But I believe I can restore quality of life. You'll cultivate without pain, maintain your Foundation Establishment strength. Perhaps even help others with similar injuries."

The last part was key. Liu Hao's generous nature, which had made his happiness so offensive, would become the vector for his new purpose.

"I'll endure anything for that chance," Liu Hao said firmly.

"Your fiancée will be pleased. She asks about you constantly."

Liu Hao's expression crumbled slightly. "She deserves better than a cripple who can't even—"

"Stop." Zǔ Zhòu placed a hand on his shoulder, activating subtle pressure points that induced calm. "She loves you, not your cultivation level. Trust that."

Such beautiful irony, comforting him about the relationship I'm about to weaponize.

"Now, lie still. This will feel... unusual."

Zǔ Zhòu began the true work. His fingers found the seventeen primary meridian points, but this time for construction rather than destruction. The temporal energy flowed differently—not the violent disruption of before, but delicate filaments of power that wove through Liu Hao's spiritual channels.

"I'm creating bypass routes," he explained, letting Liu Hao feel involved. "Your main meridians are scarred, but we can build secondary channels around the damage."

What he didn't explain was the nature of those channels. Each "bypass" contained microscopic inversions—points where the meridian's function reversed. Pain signals would arrive at the brain transformed. Suffering would register as satisfaction. Others' agony would trigger pleasure responses.

The modification was brilliant in its subtlety. Liu Hao would feel normal most of the time. Only when exposed to others' pain would the inversions activate, and even then, he'd rationalize the response. Satisfaction at "helping" them. Pleasure from "easing suffering."

"It tingles," Liu Hao reported, eyes closed in concentration.

"Good. That's the new pathways forming." Zǔ Zhòu carefully inscribed the final inversion points. "You may experience unusual sensations over the coming weeks. Your body needs time to adapt."

The work took three hours. By the end, sweat beaded both their foreheads—Liu Hao from enduring the procedure, Zǔ Zhòu from the precise control required. But the modifications were perfect, undetectable to any healer who didn't know exactly what to look for.

"Try circulating your qi," Zǔ Zhòu instructed.

Liu Hao obeyed, and his eyes widened. "It... it doesn't hurt! For the first time since the collapse, there's no pain!"

"Excellent. The new channels are accepting energy flow." Zǔ Zhòu helped him sit up. "We'll need weekly sessions to ensure they remain stable, but the worst is behind you."

Liu Hao grabbed his hands, tears flowing freely. "Wei'er, I can't... you've given me my life back. How can I ever repay this?"

"Family helps family," Zǔ Zhòu replied, the words ash in his mouth. "Though... there is something."

"Anything!"

"I've been studying healing applications from my manual. Your recovery is proof they work, but I need to understand more cases. Would you... help me learn? Visit other injured cultivators, observe their conditions?"

Liu Hao's face lit up. "Of course! If my experience can help others avoid this suffering, I'll gladly assist!"

Perfect. He'd just volunteered to become a suffering detector, seeking out pain to unconsciously feed on while believing himself charitable.

"Rest now," Zǔ Zhòu said. "Tomorrow we'll tell your fiancée the good news."

He left Liu Hao weeping with gratitude and found Elder Feng waiting outside.

"Remarkable recovery," the elder noted, having monitored with spiritual sense. "Those bypass channels are ingenious. I've never seen the technique."

"The temporal manual contains unusual medical applications. Healing by creating new timelines for qi flow rather than repairing old ones."

"Hmm." Elder Feng studied him carefully. "Your cousin is fortunate to have you. Many would have given up on such severe damage."

"Liu Hao showed me kindness when I was a disappointment. Helping his recovery is the least I can do."

The elder nodded approvingly and departed. Another reputation point secured—the devoted cousin using his strange knowledge for family benefit.

That evening, Zǔ Zhòu met with Liu Hao's fiancée in the garden. Chen Mei was a classical beauty worn down by weeks of worry, her eyes holding the particular exhaustion of those who loved the suffering.

"Young Master Wei," she bowed deeply. "How is he?"

"See for yourself."

Liu Hao walked out, moving carefully but without pain. The reunion was disgustingly touching—embraces, tears, whispered promises. Zǔ Zhòu watched with academic interest, noting how Liu Hao's modified meridians reacted to her emotional pain of relief. Micro-expressions of pleasure crossed his face, which he probably interpreted as joy at comforting her.

"We can have our life back," Liu Hao told her. "I'll never advance, but I can maintain cultivation. We can marry, have children, grow old together."

"That's all I wanted," she sobbed into his shoulder.

"Wei'er made it possible," Liu Hao said, pulling back to gesture at Zǔ Zhòu. "He'll need to treat me weekly, but the pain is gone. I can even help him study healing techniques for others."

Chen Mei turned to Zǔ Zhòu with profound gratitude. "Young Master, our family will remember this debt forever."

"No debt between family," he replied smoothly. "Hao'er's happiness is reward enough."

They departed together, Liu Hao walking with new confidence. He'd feel normal for the next few days, building trust in his recovery. Then, gradually, he'd begin encountering injured people during his "helpful" visits. Each exposure would reinforce the modifications, training his nervous system to associate others' pain with personal pleasure.

Within a month, he'd be addicted to finding suffering. Within a year, he'd unconsciously seek out the grievously injured, telling himself it was charitable impulse. Never realizing he'd become a parasite feeding on agony while playing savior.

"Status report on the modification?" his anchor servant asked later.

"Complete success. The meridian inversions are stable and undetectable. He'll process others' pain as pleasure while consciously believing he's helping them heal."

"Creating a suffering-seeking missile disguised as a saint."

"Better—creating someone who'll identify the most vulnerable for me. Liu Hao's genuine kindness will lead him to those experiencing the deepest pain. He'll catalog them, comfort them, and report back about their conditions. My own suffering scout who thinks he's performing charity."

Zǔ Zhòu made notes on the technique. The seventeen pressure points created initial damage, but the reconstruction method could be adapted. Not everyone needed complete meridian collapse first. Subtle modifications during "healing" sessions could transform anyone into an unwitting agent.

"The Liu family sees me healing the unhealable," he concluded. "Liu Hao becomes my grateful servant. His fiancée spreads stories of my kindness. And I've created a tool that will seek out suffering for me to harvest."

"The observers seem particularly engaged by this corruption method," his servant noted.

"Because it's perfectly horrible. Taking someone's kindness and inverting it into a hunger for others' pain, while they remain consciously kind?" He smiled at the watching void. "Liu Hao will spend his life helping the suffering while secretly feeding on their agony. The ultimate perversion of charity."

A week later, Liu Hao made his first visit to the city's healing halls. He returned glowing with satisfaction, describing the injuries he'd witnessed, the pain he'd helped document for Zǔ Zhòu's "research."

"There's a child with bone rot," he reported eagerly. "The healers can't determine the cause. Her screams were... I mean, her suffering moved me deeply. Perhaps your temporal techniques could help?"

Already seeking out the most intense suffering, drawn like a moth to flame. The modifications worked perfectly.

"I'll investigate," Zǔ Zhòu promised. "Your compassion helps identify those most in need."

Liu Hao beamed, never realizing his "compassion" was engineered addiction. His meridians sang with remembered pleasure from the child's agony, driving him to seek more, catalog more, deliver more suffering to his beloved cousin's attention.

The puppet strings were invisible, woven into his very spiritual channels. Liu Hao danced to their pull while believing every movement was his own charitable choice.

"Next week, we'll strengthen the bypasses," Zǔ Zhòu told him. "Perhaps expand your ability to sense others' pain—purely for diagnostic purposes, of course."

"Of course! Anything to help more people!"

The grateful puppet eager for deeper strings. Soon, Liu Hao would become the Liu family's most beloved member—the crippled cultivator who turned tragedy into charity, helped by his devoted cousin's healing techniques.

None would suspect the saint was a parasite, or that his savior was the architect of his hunger.

The evolution of evil had found its perfect camouflage: genuine kindness twisted into an appetite that would outlive its host's consciousness of virtue.