Lie Zhanfeng dragged his exhausted body forward, his legs like lead as he navigated the uneven forest path. The journey had taken a toll on him; days of walking with little to no food had left him starving and lightheaded. His once-steady steps now faltered, his vision blurring at the edges.
He wiped the sweat off his brow, grimacing at the sheer effort it took to keep going. His stomach churned in protest, a sharp reminder of how long it had been since his last meal. He couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "The great Lie Zhanfeng," he muttered, "reduced to a starving thief in the woods. What a legacy."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, he found himself stumbling upon a hidden cave. Its entrance was obscured by vines and moss, blending seamlessly into the surrounding forest. If he weren't so desperate to find shelter, he might have missed it altogether.
The cave was unassuming, its dark mouth barely large enough for a person to squeeze through. But something about it caught his attention—a gut feeling, a sense of familiarity. "This has to be it," he whispered, hope flaring in his chest.
He ducked inside, his body brushing against the rough stone walls as he entered. The air inside was cool and damp, carrying a faint metallic tang. The dim light filtering through cracks in the ceiling did little to illuminate the interior.
He paused, scanning his surroundings. There was nothing out of the ordinary—just jagged walls and a floor littered with small rocks. There were no treasures, no glowing artifacts, no signs of the fabled reward he had read about.
Lie Zhanfeng frowned, frustration bubbling up. "The novel didn't bother explaining how the cannon fodder found the treasure. Just my luck."
Still, he began searching the cave, feeling along the walls and overturning stones. His hands scraped against the rough surface, his patience wearing thin. After what felt like hours, he stood in the center of the cave, empty-handed.
"Nothing," he muttered, his voice echoing in the silence. He kicked a rock in frustration. "Did I get the wrong cave?"
Just as he turned to leave, the ground beneath him gave way. A loud crack echoed through the cave as the floor collapsed, and he plunged into darkness.
He hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of him. Coughing, he rolled onto his back, staring up at the hole he'd fallen through.
"Really? A trap?" he groaned, sitting up and brushing dirt off his clothes.
The chamber he had fallen into was dimly lit, the faint glow of luminescent plants casting an eerie light. In the corners of the room, rows of precious elixirs grew in neat clusters, their vibrant hues illuminating the space. These were treasures cultivators would kill for, and Lie Zhanfeng knew their value immediately.
But he didn't spare them more than a glance. His eyes were fixed on a small black box resting against the far wall. He recognized it instantly—the very box that contained the artifacts he sought.
"Finally," he muttered, a grin tugging at his lips.
He strode over to the box, his movements filled with purpose. Opening it, he was greeted by the sight of two magnificent artifacts. The first was a sword, its blade shimmering with an ethereal silver glow. Its hilt was adorned with intricate runes, the craftsmanship otherworldly.
The second was a pair of gauntlets, their dark metal polished to a mirror-like finish. They exuded a quiet menace, their jagged edges hinting at their lethal potential.
Lie Zhanfeng didn't linger on them. He already knew their significance—how they were once wielded by a mighty cultivator before being lost to time. Instead, his attention was drawn to the third item in the box.
Lie Zhanfeng reached into the black box, his hand closing around the plain silver bracelet. Its design was simple, unadorned, and almost unimpressive compared to the other treasures before him. But Lie Zhanfeng didn't hesitate. He slipped it onto his wrist, noting how perfectly it fit, as though it was made for him.
Nothing happened.
He twisted his wrist, examining the bracelet from every angle. It wasn't glowing, humming, or showing any signs of the mythical power described in the book. "Figures," he muttered under his breath, his lips curving into a wry grin. He had read about how the Void Bracelet could store treasures and even provide a life-saving escape, but the author conveniently left out how to activate the damn thing.
"Guess I'll figure it out later," he sighed, shoving his frustration aside. His attention shifted to the other treasures in the box.
The sword lay gleaming, its blade whispering of unparalleled craftsmanship and lethality. Lie Zhanfeng crouched down and picked it up, holding it awkwardly in his hands. The weight felt foreign to him, the balance unfamiliar. He swished it lightly through the air, but it was obvious—he had no idea how to handle a weapon like this.
"Too fancy for me," he muttered, shaking his head. His mind drifted to Xie Dongyi. "The kid might know what to do with it, though."
A small chuckle escaped him as he imagined the boy's reaction. Xie Dongyi, with his quiet demeanor and that unexplainable charm, seemed like the type to appreciate a weapon this refined. If Lie Zhanfeng ever saw him someday, this sword might just be his gift.
He set the sword back in the box and turned his attention to the gauntlets. Now these, he could work with. Their heavy, sturdy design suited someone like him—someone who was used to fighting with his fists. The original owner of this body had been no different, a brawler by nature, relying on sheer physical strength rather than finesse.
"Physical cultivation, huh?" he mused, slipping the gauntlets onto his hands. "Doesn't sound too bad to me."
The gauntlets fit snugly, almost as if they were made for him. Flexing his fingers, he admired how natural they felt. But the moment of satisfaction was short-lived as a cold realization hit him.
This body had no cultivation qualifications at all.
Lie Zhanfeng froze, the weight of the gauntlets suddenly feeling heavier. In his previous life, he'd been a gangster when he was younger, fighting with nothing but brute strength and street smarts. It wasn't until he inherited his father's company when he mellowed down and became a steady businessman. But here, in a world where strength came from cultivation, he was nothing more than a mortal.
"Great," he muttered bitterly. "What's the use of treasures if I can't even use them properly?"
His frustration boiled over, but he forced himself to think. There had to be a solution. His mind wandered back to the Void Bracelet on his wrist. If the book was right, it wasn't just a storage space—it contained a library of techniques and knowledge from its previous owners.
Lie Zhanfeng's eyes narrowed as a spark of hope ignited within him. If he could access the library, maybe—just maybe—he could find a technique that would allow him to cultivate despite his lack of qualifications.
He stared down at the bracelet, his calloused fingers brushing over its smooth surface. The once-faint frustration in his eyes was replaced by determination.