CHAPTER 493: CHAPTER 493: YOUR HEART IS SCREAMING CYRUS’ NAME

The holographic projection of Bubu blinked down at Isabella with the slow, disappointed squint of someone who had watched her do absolutely everything except the correct thing for the past thirty minutes.

The system hovered there in its little blue glow, arms folded, expression blank but somehow aggressively judgmental.

Glimora sat beside Isabella like she was watching her mother get scolded by a floating iPad.

Isabella stared up at the system dramatically from where she lay draped over her bedding like a fainting princess who’d lost all will to exist.

Bubu blinked again.

Isabella blinked back.

Bubu continued blinking.

"...what?" Isabella snapped finally.

Bubu’s voice materialized in her head, dry, crisp, and absolutely lacking mercy:

Host. What. Were. You. Doing.

Isabella gasped. "EXCUSE ME? I WAS CULTIVATING."

Glimora paused mid-chew, as if even that claim was too bold.

Bubu let out a tiny digital sigh — the kind of sigh that said I regret being assigned to you personally by the heavens.

Host... you were sitting there thinking about men, punching the air, sneezing, making constipated faces, and chanting "sparkles." That is not cultivating.

Isabella slapped a hand over her face. "Oh my god, I TOLD you to stop observing me all the time—"

I literally cannot stop observing you. I’m your system. If you die, I get deleted. I have motivation to keep you alive. Unlike you, who seems determined to discover every possible way to self-destruct emotionally and spiritually.

Glimora nodded softly like: mmm yes this tracks.

Isabella shot the creature a glare. "Don’t take her side!"

Bubu ignored her.

Host. You asked why it wasn’t working. That is why I manifested. Now please sit up so I can educate you.

Isabella groaned dramatically, rolling over like she was being dragged into a school lecture against her will.

She finally sat cross-legged again, lifting her chin with the haughty dignity of someone who did not want to admit she was about to learn something from a floating hologram.

"Fine," she muttered. "Educate me."

Bubu’s tone was painfully condescending.

Let’s begin with the basics, since your cultivation experience is approximately zero. (Actually it’s level 1)

Isabella sniffed. "SO?"

So, host, you need the basics, otherwise you’re going to explode your liver.

Her jaw dropped. "MY WHAT?!"

Yes. Your liver. And maybe your heart. Possibly your spleen. There are several options. Please don’t choose violence against your organs today.

Isabella gasped in horror. "WHY WOULD THAT EVEN BE POSSIBLE?!"

Bubu blinked again.

Isabella turned red. "OH."

Glimora placed a comforting paw on her knee like: it’s okay mama, you’re just stupid.

She shoved Glimora away lightly. "Stop TOUCHING me."

Bubu continued, deadpan:

Isabella stared. "I CAN’T."

Obviously.

"THAT’S RUDE."

Host, while trying to cultivate, you thought about: Cyrus, Osiris, punching Osiris, kissing Cyrus, murdering Osiris, crying, eating rice, the Moon Petal Lily, your hair, and whether your future children will inherit your eye shape.

Isabella turned scarlet. "STOP READING MY——"

I don’t read your thoughts. You broadcast them. Loudly. To the entire spiritual plane.

Glimora squeaked, covering her little face.

Isabella snatched a pillow and screamed into it.

Bubu waited patiently like a therapist used to loud clients.

Finally Isabella threw the pillow aside and flopped back down. "Fine. What’s Rule Two?"

"Focus on your dantian."

"My what?!"

Your energy center. The place where qi gathers. It’s located here.

A tiny glowing dot appeared on Isabella’s abdomen.

She slapped her stomach. "OH. Why didn’t you just say stomach?!"

Because it’s not your stomach. It’s your dantian.

She threw both hands up. "SAME AREA."

Incorrect. They are not the same.

"YES IT IS."

No, Host. That is like saying your heart and your left boob are the same thing. They are located close by but they are NOT the same functionally or spiritually.

Glimora keeled over laughing, tiny legs in the air.

Isabella covered her face with both hands. "Why are you like this—"

But Bubu continued mercilessly.

"Rule Three: Breathe correctly."

"I WAS BREATHING CORRECTLY," she snapped.

Host, you were huffing like a dying buffalo. I recorded the sound.

A replay echoed through the tent:

"HUUUHHH—HAAAAA—HUH—HUHHH—AAA—"

Isabella lunged toward the hologram. "DELETE THAT!!"

Can’t. It’s in the cloud.

She fell flat on her face.

Glimora patted her hair sympathetically.

Bubu cleared its throat.

Correct breathing is slow, controlled, calm. You inhale, guide the energy down into your dantian, circulate it gently, and—

Isabella cut in, irritated. "CIRCULATE WHAT energy? There is no energy. Nothing is happening!"

Yes. Because you did not reach Rule Four.

Isabella blinked. "There’s a FOUR?!"

Bubu nodded, smug.

Yes. Rule Four: You must first GATHER external energy.

She stared, horrified. "External—external—EXTERNAL?!"

Correct. Your body is empty. There is nothing to circulate because you did not bring anything IN.

Her eyes widened in betrayal. "BU—BU—BU—YOU—you—HOW MANY?!"

Enough that if I listed them without explanations, you would collapse emotionally.

Isabella pointed a trembling finger at the hologram. "I AM ALREADY COLLAPSING EMOTIONALLY."

Yes. I know. I am your system. I see everything.

She let out a wounded hiss.

Glimora nodded. "Pip."

Bubu continued, unfazed:

Rule Five: Understand what ’gathering’ means.

Isabella frowned. "...meaning?"

Meaning, Host, that you cannot cultivate using only your own body. You need an outside source. Spiritual energy. Moon energy. Elemental qi. Something. Anything.

"But why didn’t you tell me?!"

Host, at no point did you inquire about this. Not even accidentally.

Isabella choked. "I—WHAT—YOU—OF COURSE I DIDN’T ASK—WHY WOULD I KNOW TO ASK—"

Host, if you were trying to start a fire, would you rub two rocks together in the dark without checking if the rocks were actually rocks or if you were just slapping pebbles? Because that is spiritually what you were doing.

Isabella froze, mouth open.

Glimora snorted.

Bubu continued calmly, ruthless:

Rule Five: Quiet your heart, Host. Turbulent emotions disrupt qi flow.

"My heart IS quiet."

Your heart is screaming Cyrus’ name.

Isabella WHEEZED.

"IT IS NOT—"

Host. I can hear you.

She buried her entire head under her blanket.

Glimora pressed her tiny head against Isabella’s arm and let out a soft, trembling "pip..."