"UGH… IT HURTS!"

Agony. Pure, unrelenting agony.

It surged through him like wildfire, burning every nerve, tearing through his mind like jagged glass. His body convulsed, muscles locking as if unseen chains bound him in place. A suffocating weight crushed his chest, making each breath a battle.

Then, just as suddenly, the pain vanished—only to be replaced by something far worse.

A flood of memories that did not belong to him crashed into his consciousness.

Faces. Names. Lives.

People he had never met. Words he had never spoken. A past that was not his.

Yi Lian clutched his head, gasping, as fragments of another existence wove themselves into his mind. It was unbearable, like trying to pour an ocean into a cup. Yet somehow, amidst the storm of foreign thoughts, he clung to the one thing he knew was real—himself.

When the torrent finally ebbed, he lay sprawled on the cold, hard floor, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving. His hands trembled as he forced himself upright, his breath coming in ragged gulps.

Then, it hit him.

He had transmigrated.

This wasn't his world. This wasn't his body.

Memories—ones that now felt like his own—told him the truth. This vessel belonged to a nameless outer disciple of a sect. No cultivation. No background. A nobody among thousands.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. From nothing… to nothing.

But he wasn't about to let that stop him.

The air around him was thick with an unfamiliar energy, pressing against his skin like an unseen force. Everything felt sharper, more vivid. The wooden walls of his modest dwelling, the sparse furniture, even the worn-out robes clinging to his damp skin—it was all too real to be a dream.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sticky filth coating his body—sweat, grime, and the remnants of whatever process had forced him into this body. Disgusted, he staggered toward the small washroom tucked in the corner and splashed cold water onto his face.

The shock jolted his mind into clarity.

This world… this sect… it was dangerous.

The strong ruled. The weak were trampled underfoot. If he didn't act fast, he would be just another stepping stone for some arrogant young master.

He exhaled sharply. I need power. I need a way to survive.

And as if answering his desperate thoughts, a voice echoed in his mind—clear, mechanical, and filled with an undeniable authority.

[DING!]

[TRANSMIGRATION SUCCESSFUL. SYSTEM ACTIVATED.]

[HOST: YI LIAN]

[CULTIVATION: NULL]

[SYSTEM ABILITIES: APPRAISAL, MENTAL LOCK]

[CREATION POINTS: NULL]

Yi Lian froze, his breath catching in his throat.

A system?

His gaze locked onto the floating translucent screen before him, its golden text pulsing faintly in the dim light. This was it—his advantage. His path forward.

His fingers twitched with anticipation as he focused on the words. Creation Points… what did that mean?

A new line of text materialized as if responding to his thoughts.

[Creation Points can be used to upgrade abilities, cultivation, and the system itself. They are earned by creating anything of value.]

Yi Lian frowned, rolling the concept over in his mind. Creating anything of value? That could mean a lot—techniques, items, knowledge… or even influence.

A slow grin crept onto his lips. Interesting.

The exhaustion weighing down on him finally caught up, and his eyelids grew heavy. He had a million questions, but those would have to wait. Tomorrow, he would visit the sect's library and learn everything he could.

For now, he needed rest.

But as he drifted into unconsciousness, the world beyond his walls did not sleep.

A Presence in the Night

Beneath the moon's pale glow, the courtyard outside his humble dwelling was no longer empty.

A woman stood in the silver light, her presence an ethereal contrast against the darkened landscape. Her robes shimmered like liquid jade, embroidered with celestial patterns that seemed to shift with the night air. Delicate jade ornaments adorned her hair, though they did little to diminish the natural elegance that surrounded her like an aura.

She was breathtaking. And terrifying.

Because she was watching him.

Her gaze, calm yet piercing, held a knowing weight—as if she had seen everything.

With a flick of her wrist, a table and chair materialized from thin air, the faint hum of spiritual energy dispersing into the night. She seated herself gracefully, her posture relaxed, yet her expression unreadable.

She was waiting.

Morning's Arrival

CHIRP. CHIRP.

The morning sun bathed Yi Lian's room in a soft golden hue as birdsong filled the air. He stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and pulled on his robes.

Today was the start of his new life. He needed to—

CREAK.

He stiffened. The door to his courtyard had opened on its own.

A chill crawled down his spine as he stepped outside—only to freeze at the sight before him.

Seated at a table that hadn't existed last night was a woman too beautiful to belong to this world. Her robes shimmered like the morning sky, her presence as serene as a still lake. Yet despite her calm demeanor, the intensity of her gaze made his blood run cold.

Yi Lian swallowed hard and forced his expression into respectful neutrality. Who was she? Why was she here?

Lowering his head slightly, he spoke, keeping his tone polite. "May I ask what brings you here, Senior?"

She tilted her head, studying him like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. Then, she smiled.

"May I ask something first?"

Her voice was gentle, almost melodic, but there was something beneath it—a sharpness, a weight.

Yi Lian straightened. "Of course, Senior."

Her next words were deceptively simple, yet they sent his heart hammering against his ribs.

"Who are you, and why are you here?"

A question so basic, yet it carried an undeniable pressure.

Yi Lian's mouth went dry. Did she… know?

Desperate for answers, he mentally activated Appraisal on her.

[ERROR: HOST IS TOO WEAK TO USE APPRAISAL ON THIS TARGET.]

[HOST HAS BEEN DETECTED.]

His blood turned to ice.

Her gaze sharpened. "So, you tried to pry into my identity?"

Yi Lian opened his mouth to deny it, but she simply raised a hand.

"Enough."

Silence stretched between them, suffocating and absolute. Then, with a measured sigh, she leaned back in her chair.

"You've done well to adapt so quickly," she mused. "Most would have been consumed by the process."

Yi Lian's fingers curled into fists. She had seen it. My transmigration.

He forced himself to ask the question clawing at his mind. "Why are you here?"

Her gaze softened—just slightly.

"Because you intrigue me."

Then, with a voice that left no room for refusal, she declared:

"I have decided to take you as my disciple."

Yi Lian's heart slammed against his ribs.

This was no simple offer. This was a binding fate.

And he had no choice but to accept.