The night was as dark as ink, the chirping of crickets outside rising and falling, like a strange requiem for Amaya's life. She leaned against the window, holding a cold glass of lemon water. The icy touch mirrored her fate—cold and devoid of warmth.
"Five years ago, I was at the top of my game!" Amaya let out a bitter laugh, her gaze falling on the yellowed wedding photo hanging on the wall. In the picture, she and her ex-husband Tom were smiling brightly. Now, that smile looked fake and ridiculous, like a mask from a cheap superhero show. "Ha! I used to think happiness lasted forever."
She once had it all—a career, a marriage, even a child growing inside her. But fate wasn't some magical genie, and it didn't even bother throwing her a lifeline. Instead, it hit her with a brutal blow—postpartum paralysis. Now, she was like a pancake stuck to a bed, unable to even roll over without someone's help.
"This drama is too much!" Amaya muttered, staring at the wedding photo. Tom's smile now seemed as fake as a plastic chicken breast, nauseating to look at. This man, once so tender and caring, had turned into a proud member of the "Night Owl Club," slipping in and out of the house with perfect timing. His favorite line? "Work's busy. You've got to understand." And that whiff of perfume on his collar? Every single breath of it stung with betrayal.
"Understand? I'll 'understand' you into next week!" Amaya rolled her eyes so hard she nearly sprained them, wishing she could hurl the lemon water in his face. Then there was Jr. Tom, her son, who looked at her like she was some kind of ghost, avoiding her with that disgusted expression. Each time he saw her, his gaze cut deep. "I'm your mother! You look at me like I'm failing at this job? I'm in this state because I gave birth to you!"
Anger bubbled inside her like a volcano about to erupt. Her eyes finally locked onto a bottle of cyanide on her nightstand—a poison some nerdy sixth grader once said had an almond scent. She was ready to end this twisted soap opera.
"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry, but I can't keep living like this." A glimmer of resolution flashed in her eyes as she swallowed the pill. The bitter taste quickly spread through her mouth.
"Why is this pill so bitter?" She frowned, mumbling to herself. "Wasn't it supposed to taste like almonds? Can't even die with a little dignity, huh?"
Just as her consciousness began to fade, the door burst open. Her mother-in-law stormed in like a rabid hyena, her shrill voice piercing the room: "Amaya, what's happening?!" Her face was a mask of "grief," but the satisfaction in her eyes was hard to miss. "Ha! Finally giving up, huh?"
Tom strolled in behind her, moving as if he had all the time in the world, putting on the most melodramatic expression, though his tone was as flat as a weather report: "Amaya, don't blame me… this is just fate."
Amaya's soul floated above the scene, boiling with rage. "These people! Are you forcing me to become a ghost?"
And to top it all off, Jr. Tom ran in, his innocent little face lighting up with excitement. "Is Mom dead yet? Can the pretty lady be my new mom now?"
"Is this really my son?" Amaya felt her worldview shatter into a thousand pieces. "What did I do in a past life to deserve this family? Did I burn a thousand plastic bags to earn this karma?"
Her mother-in-law cackled. "This kid's so smart! We should plan a grand funeral!"
Tom's cold voice chimed in: "Amaya, don't haunt me in the next life."
Amaya's fury reached its peak. Her soul shook as she roared, "God! Give me one more chance, and I'll make them wish they were never born!"
Just as she screamed in frustration, the sky split open, and a golden light shone down. An ethereal elder descended with an aura of divine power.
"What the—?" Amaya was startled.
The elder smiled gently, his voice deep and commanding: "You should thank your ancestors for their virtues. I'm here to offer you a second chance, to start your journey of cultivation from scratch."
"Cultivation? Is this some kind of over-the-top fantasy plot?" Before Amaya could process what was happening, her body was swept up in the golden light.
When she opened her eyes again, she found herself in a completely different world. In her hand, she clutched a sword, and beside her floated a blank book.
"What… what is this? Wasn't I just dead?"
A voice boomed from the heavens: "This is your journey into the world of magic. The book will guide you when you need it."
Amaya flipped through the book to find… absolutely nothing. "You sure this isn't just an empty notebook?"
Suddenly, the book flashed, and a line of text appeared: "Take every step carefully. Don't be reckless."
Amaya rolled her eyes so hard she thought they might get stuck. "Well, at least this book has a sense of humor."
Just as she was about to figure out how to begin this "cultivation" thing, she slipped, falling face-first into the dirt. The book flashed again: "Watch your step. Tripping is part of the journey."
"Should I just throw this thing away?" Amaya muttered, laughing to herself before reluctantly picking up the book again. "Fine. I'm not giving up yet."
＊＊＊
When Amaya opened her eyes again, her mind was as blank as a freshly formatted hard drive. She found herself lying in a run-down temple, with dusty statues that seemed to have witnessed the passage of eons.
"What... kind of freaky place is this?" She got to her feet, only to realize she couldn't remember anything. Her name, her past, or even why she was there. "Damn it, did they format my entire character setup too?"
"Wait, hang on—didn't some celestial being mention something about a cultivation opportunity?" Amaya pinched her cheek, feeling the sharp sting and confirming that she wasn't dreaming. But why was her memory gone? Panic started to rise.
As she glanced around, suddenly a sword and a book appeared next to her. The sword gleamed brilliantly, while the book's cover was blank—completely empty. Amaya muttered under her breath, "An empty book? Is this the cultivation world's version of a bullet journal?"
Flipping through the pages, she wasn't surprised. Totally blank. "Celestial being? Is this what you meant by a divine guidebook?" She rolled her eyes, about to toss it aside, when suddenly the pages lit up, revealing a line of text: "Top Cultivation Manual: Chapter One—Get to Know the City."
Amaya stared at the glowing words, speechless for a moment. Then, she rolled her eyes so hard she practically saw the back of her skull. "Great, now I'm a tour guide for the magical world, huh?"
Sighing in defeat, she decided to follow the book's instructions and stepped outside to explore the world.
The moment she walked out, she was stunned. This city looked like a modern metropolis, but it was packed with strange magical elements. People were gliding on flying swords, and some were even riding giant paintbrushes through the air. Rubbing her eyes, she mumbled, "Is this some kind of Magical Transportation Battle Royale?"
As she wandered down the street, delicious scents wafted through the air, making her stomach growl loudly. Spirit-infused fried chicken, enchanted ice cream—every restaurant sign looked so tempting. She patted her pockets, but… no spirit stones.
"No cultivation powers, no money… I've hit rock bottom," Amaya groaned as she wandered into a spirit food shop. A floating shop attendant drifted toward her with a polite smile. "Anything you'd like, fellow cultivator?"
Amaya glanced down at the menu and mentally screamed: "Spirit Energy Combo, 100 spirit stones. Flying Sword Pizza, 80 spirit stones. Is this a restaurant or a robbery?!"
"Looks like I'm on my own." She sighed, walking through the bustling streets, trying to figure out how to survive in this new world. But the truth was undeniable—she had nothing. Not even enough for a meal. "Celestial being, is this some kind of cruel training arc?!" Amaya yelled into the sky, exasperated. "You can't just leave me like this! This is celestial-level newbie abuse!"
But there was no response from the heavens. Instead, the book in her hand flashed weakly, as if mocking her helplessness.
Then, another line of text appeared: "Find Zephyr. Stick to him like glue." Amaya's mind swirled with questions. "Zephyr? Who the heck is that? A person? A place? A brand of flying broomsticks? Why do I have to follow him?"
Just then, she spotted a shabby-looking stall on the street corner with a tattered sign that read: "Limited Time Job Offer: Spirit Stone Delivery. Meals and Lodging Included." Amaya's eyes lit up. "This is my lifeline!"
She rushed over to the vendor, an old man with a straw hat, grinning from ear to ear. "Looking for work, young lady?"
Amaya eagerly nodded. "Yes! What do you have? I can do anything!"
The old man's grin widened as he stroked his beard. "Perfect! Just deliver this bag of spirit stones for me, and I guarantee food, lodging, and even a small reward."
Amaya's heart soared. She quickly nodded, grabbed the massive bag of spirit stones, and took off running. But as she entered a narrow alley, a cold voice suddenly cut through the air: "Foolish girl, daring to touch what belongs to me!"
Amaya's heart skipped a beat. She turned to see a man in a black robe standing at the end of the alley, wielding a gigantic sword that gleamed ominously.
"I'm just delivering spirit stones! What's your problem?" Amaya hurriedly tried to hide the bag behind her back, her heart racing. "This guy looks like serious trouble. Celestial being, HELP!"But her plea for help fell on deaf ears. No divine intervention arrived. Instead, the Top Cultivation Manual opened by itself, and a new message appeared on the page: "In times of danger, the book can be used as a shield."
Amaya blinked in disbelief, glancing up at the black-robed man who was slowly approaching. She didn't have time to think. Grabbing the ornate sword strapped to her back, she held the book out in front of her like a makeshift shield, hoping for a miracle.
"Hummm—"
To her shock, the book emitted a brilliant light, instantly forming a glowing shield that blocked the man's attack. Amaya stood there, dumbfounded. "What is this book made of, titanium?"
The man in black snarled, his eyes blazing with fury as he raised his sword again. Amaya knew she couldn't keep this up. Panicking, she hurled the bag of spirit stones into the air, shouting, "I'm done with this delivery! Take the stones!"
The bag sailed through the air in a perfect arc, landing squarely on the man's head. Spirit stones scattered everywhere. The man froze for a second, his furious roar echoing through the alley: "You little brat! I'll make you pay for this!"