A Mage in the Martial Arts World - Chapter 004

The idea might have sounded good, but Li Wei quickly realized it wasn’t realistic.

He had only just become a mage, and his mana was almost completely spent after the earlier trial. Even if he were still full of mana, there was no way he could pull it off.

The cricket was far larger than the mosquito he’d once created, and with his current mana, it was impossible to form something that big.

Even if, by some miracle, he could make a mana cricket—could he make sure others wouldn’t see it? Could it last until the end of the match?

More importantly, could he even control it?

After all, the mosquito he had made before could only move within the range of his palm. The moment it left that area, it would lose control completely.

“Damn it!” Li Wei cursed, slamming his fist onto the shelf holding the cricket jars. Pain immediately shot up his arm, twisting his expression.

At that moment, he realized something—being a mage might be powerful, but it didn’t make his body any stronger.

The pain helped calm him down. Getting angry wouldn’t help. What mattered was finding a solution.

After thinking for a while, he began to move.

He went back to his room, cleared the desk, then returned to the cricket room. He took out the jars one by one and lined them up neatly.

Nine jars in total.

He stared at them, his expression dark, obviously struggling to decide.

After a moment, determination flashed in his eyes.

He reached into the nearest jar and pulled out a cricket between his fingers.

He placed it gently in the center of his left palm. The insect’s body was weak and limp—this one had barely survived among the others.

He stared at it, eyes sharp, and a faint ripple of mana stirred in his palm, like fine sand falling into water.

A thin mist of white light appeared beneath the cricket, coiling around it like a snake searching for an opening.

After a few seconds, it found one—the cricket’s mouth—and slipped inside.

Before the light had fully entered its body, the cricket twitched violently, as if jolted awake.

“It’s working!” Li Wei’s eyes lit up with excitement.

He hadn’t expected much. This was just a desperate experiment, a wild attempt born from the faintest hope in his new powers.

But before his joy could settle, the cricket went limp again.

Thin threads of white light leaked out from its body—it had been torn apart by the mana. It was dead.

He picked up the carcass, tossed it aside, and swallowed his frustration. There was no turning back now.

The second and third crickets soon followed. Both died the same way.

He stopped and thought carefully about why it kept failing.

Even when he tried to be more careful—using less mana, slowing down the infusion—it didn’t make a real difference. The crickets lived a few seconds longer, but none lasted more than half a minute.

Three failures in a row, but he didn’t give up.

The attempts had proved one thing: mana could affect the crickets. The third one had been especially lively for a few moments, even stronger than before.

If he could just figure out how to make them survive longer, success was possible.

Half an hour passed before he realized it.

He’d thought of several possible adjustments but wasn’t sure if any would work.

He had few crickets left, so he had to be cautious.

He refused to catch more from outside—not only was it hard to find good ones quickly, but it was too risky.

The original owner had treated the servants terribly, beating and scolding them for the smallest things, even killing them in fits of rage.

Li Wei knew that kind of man inspired no loyalty. If they had even the slightest chance to betray him, they would.

If word got out and people started betting against him in the upcoming competition, and he actually lost, the consequences would be disastrous.

After reviewing his plan one more time, he reached for the fourth jar.

He had to try—otherwise, he’d never know.

Outside, the sky had already darkened. The Fighting God Tournament was drawing closer.

Knock, knock.

Someone was at the door. His hand froze above the jar. “Who is it?” he snapped impatiently.

“It’s Xiao Liu, young master. I brought your dinner,” came a trembling reply, as if the speaker were facing a beast, not a man.

“Leave it at the door.”

“Yes, young master.” The footsteps quickly retreated.

Li Wei shook his head, his confidence in keeping secrets from the servants dropping even further.

After waiting a moment, he opened the door. A tall, red-lacquered food box stood outside, and the rich aroma immediately hit him, making his stomach growl.

He bent to lift it and realized how weak this body was—he was even weaker than before he’d transmigrated. He made a mental note: once this ordeal was over, he needed to train both body and mind.

He unpacked the food box, laying the dishes out on the table. There were over twenty of them, each exquisitely prepared, worth at least fifty taels of silver altogether.

It was a shocking display of wealth.

In Golden City, twenty taels could feed a family of five for an entire year. His dinner alone could sustain them for more than two.

He picked up a pair of silver-tipped ivory chopsticks and began to eat. Instantly, a wave of bliss washed over him.

The flavors were beyond anything he’d tasted before crossing over—rich, delicate, unforgettable. Even the simplest vegetables had a distinct, refined taste.

But as he ate, his pleasure slowly turned to irritation. He began to feel dissatisfied, and his gaze at the food grew harsh.

“Tch.” He gritted his teeth. It wasn’t his thought—it was the influence of the original owner’s remnant soul.

The dishes were already perfect, yet in the original owner’s mind, each had flaws—too much salt, a second too long on the fire, a touch too much oil.

If the original owner were still alive, someone would be punished—or even killed—over such nonsense.

Li Wei had seen it in his memories: servants beaten to death just because the meal wasn’t exactly right.

It was disgusting.

As the scenes flashed vividly in his mind, Li Wei’s disgust deepened.

He felt a sudden stirring in his consciousness. The Dao symbol within him pulsed, sending a wave through his body that completely erased the remnant soul’s influence.

Then, a black line appeared and lashed across that lingering fragment, making it shrink even smaller.

“Do it again, hit him again!” Li Wei shouted inwardly, but the Dao character ignored him.

With the interference gone, he finished his meal peacefully.

Unfortunately, the original owner’s body couldn’t eat much. He managed only about a fifth of the dishes before feeling full.

He especially loved the fish porridge—the tender cheek meat melted in his mouth—but he couldn’t take another bite.

Leaning back, he patted his full stomach and let out a small burp of satisfaction. Then his expression hardened again.

There would be time to enjoy good food later—after he solved the problems at hand.

His eyes drifted over the leftovers and stopped at the crystal soup dumplings.

He picked one up, carried it to his desk, and pulled off a bit of the translucent skin, kneading it into tiny balls—each no bigger than a grain of rice.

Placing a dozen of them on his palm, he began channeling mana.

A faint white glow surrounded the balls—not touching, just circling.

He guided the mana faster and faster until it formed a thin, shimmering ring.