Jiang Chen stood in the middle of his overgrown courtyard, eyes narrowed with the fierce determination of a man who had been traumatized one too many times by his own accidental greatness.
"Today," he announced to no one in particular, "I am going to build a shed."
Not a temple. Not a cultivation dojo. Not a shrine that would inadvertently become a holy site for cabbage-worshiping disciples. Just a shed. For tools. For privacy. For finally—finally—enjoying a life of quiet mediocrity.
Behind him, Niu Niu, his overly sentient spirit beast pup, chewed on a bamboo stalk and squinted skeptically at the wooden blueprint Jiang Chen had drawn in the dirt.
"Will it be big enough to hold your emotional baggage?" the pup asked in its soft, annoying voice.
"It will be big enough to hold shovels," Jiang Chen growled. "And maybe a rake. Definitely not trauma."
Niu Niu tilted its head. "What about suppressed hopes and dreams?"
"No! Only hammers! Nails! Possibly a bag of fertilizer!"
And so, he got to work.
For the first time in weeks, the sun was shining, the birds weren't screeching cryptic prophecy-sounding songs, and there were no glowing cabbages whispering eternal truths. He laid the foundation. He hammered boards. He wiped sweat from his brow like a normal person doing normal work.
It should have been peaceful.
But somewhere between installing a support beam and placing the roof tiles, the shed began to hum.
Faintly at first.
Then louder.
By the time he stepped back to admire his work, a faint spiritual glow had begun radiating from the newly built structure.
Jiang Chen's eye twitched. "No. Nope. No glows. Sheds aren't supposed to hum."
The air around it thickened. Birds circled overhead, but instead of dropping unwanted spiritual blessings like last time, they landed reverently on the roof and began meditating. Nearby grass straightened itself. Cabbage leaves fluttered in synchronized serenity.
And then came the system prompt.
[DING! You have unknowingly tapped into the Dao of Stable Craftsmanship.][Title Acquired: Calm Architect.][Structure now emits a Tier 2 Serenity Aura. Nearby cultivators will experience emotional clarity and inner peace.]
"No," Jiang Chen said flatly. "Absolutely not. It's a shed. It's made of leftover planks and a stolen chair leg."
But it was already too late.
Dozens of robed alchemists, drawn by the sudden wave of tranquil qi, began flooding the valley path like moths to an emotionally balanced flame. At the front marched an elder with three mustaches braided together like noodles of wisdom, each swaying with solemn purpose.
They fell to their knees as one.
"Pill Master Tranquility," the elder intoned, tears in his eyes. "At last, we've found you."
"I'm not—!"
"We sensed it," another disciple interrupted. "The spontaneous birth of the Pavilion of Serenity. A place where worldly concerns are shed with each plank!"
"It's not a Pavilion! It's barely structurally sound!"
A junior alchemist began sobbing uncontrollably. "I stood near it for ten breaths and remembered my childhood trauma. Then forgave myself. Master, how did you infuse emotional closure into this sacred wood?!"
"I DIDN'T INFUSE ANYTHING—"
Yet again, the system chimed in gleefully.
[DING! New Pill Path Unlocked: Sentimental Alchemy.][New Pill: Empathy Pellet.][Effect: Heals emotional wounds. Side effect: weeping for 3–5 hours.]
Another alchemist held up a glowing golden pill. "This... this came from the mist around the shed. I believe it is the Essence of Closure. May we name it after your philosophy, Pill Master?"
"I don't have a philosophy! I just wanted a roof over my trowels!"
The disciples were already lighting incense and laying out offerings of paper tissues and comfort food. One began sketching blueprints for a secondary shrine. Another took a sample of shed sawdust for "spiritual analysis."
Jiang Chen stood in the middle of it all, the world's most emotionally stable man, completely emotionally unstable.
He climbed onto the shed roof, hoping to hide in peace, but fate was far from finished.
Footsteps crunched through the grass. Soft. Hesitant. Familiar.
He looked down—and of course, it was her.
Liu Yanyan.
The umbrella girl.
Sweet, awkward, with the permanent expression of someone who wasn't sure if she was interrupting a date or a funeral. She carried a bamboo basket filled with steamed buns and hope.
"I... I thought you might be hungry," she said, holding the basket up. "I didn't know your favorite, so I made a few kinds. Um… nine."
"Please don't tell me one of them is infused with closure."
"Just lotus paste."
Niu Niu sniffed the basket. "Could be latent grief inside. I'll investigate."
Jiang Chen sighed and threw down a rope ladder.
She climbed up carefully, settling beside him as the sun dipped toward the horizon. The glow of the shed pulsed below them, surrounded by silent, sniffling alchemists meditating like monks at an emotional detox retreat.
"You look tired," Liu Yanyan said gently.
"I'm being worshipped for carpentry."
"I think it's because people feel calm around you," she murmured. "Like... like maybe being near you makes the bad things less heavy."
Jiang Chen opened his mouth to respond, but the system beat him to it.
[DING! Liu Yanyan's Affection +8. She thinks you're trustworthy. Possibly huggable.]
He took a bun and bit into it in silence. She smiled.
They sat there for a long time. The wind was quiet. The moment stretched.
Beneath them, a disciple held up a scroll and whispered reverently, "The Master eats steamed buns with tears of restraint. This must be enlightenment…"
Jiang Chen groaned and lay back against the tiles.
Later that evening, he sat alone inside the shed, now thoroughly renamed the Pavilion of Serenity without his consent. Outside, a growing line of disciples took turns laying their heads against its wooden walls, emerging reborn with new emotional perspectives and far too much poetry.
[DING! Title Upgraded: Silent Pill Saint.][You are now revered in four provinces as the founder of Emotional Alchemy.]
He stared at the rusty rake leaning against the back wall.
"Don't get any ideas," he muttered.
The rake sparkled faintly.
He closed his eyes, leaned back, and let the shed hum gently around him.
He had wanted a place for tools.
Instead, he'd founded an emotional revolution.