Stepping out of the dim, smoky chamber and into the afternoon light of the Profound Sky Academy was like stepping into a painting.
The shock of it all hit Lin Yun anew, though it was now a duller, more manageable ache.
Towering pagodas with upturned eaves pierced the clouds. Magnificent halls of polished dark wood and white jade stood amidst groves of spirit trees whose leaves shimmered with faint energy.
The air itself was different—crisp, clean, and carrying a vitality he had never known on Earth. It was thick with what he now knew to be Spiritual Qi.
Students in robes of various hues—signifying different grades or disciplines—moved along cobbled pathways. Some walked with a lightness that hinted at profound cultivation, their auras calm and deep. Others, like he appeared to be, moved with the heavier step of those still at the bottom.
He saw training grounds where flashes of light and the sound of clashing practice weapons echoed. He heard the faint, melodic recitation of scriptures from a distant lecture hall.
It was breathtaking. It was terrifying. It was real.
"So, this is how a cultivation world really looks like." Lin Yun muttered to himself.
He had seen all this through the memories of the body's original owner, but it was like watching a movie. Now, he was in the movie. The scale, the grandeur, the palpable energy in the air—it was overwhelming.
For a moment, the sheer absurdity of his situation threatened to drown him. He was a programmer. He debugged code for a living. Now he was walking through a cultivation academy, his body humming with the aftermath of a pill explosion.
He shook his head, a wry grin forming. "Well, I always said I wanted a more exciting job. Here we are."
The novels he'd devoured had, in a strange way, prepared him for this. The concept wasn't foreign, just… intensely personal now. Acceptance settled over him not as a surrender, but as a strategy. This was his new reality. His new game. And he had just respawned.
Following the mental map in his head, he navigated away from the central academic buildings, towards the residential quarters surrounding a vast, serene lake.
The Lakeheart District.
As he approached, the crowds thinned, and the ambiance shifted from bustling academia to one of quiet privilege.
The residences here were not dormitories but small, individual courtyards nestled amongst weeping willows and bamboo groves, each with a view of the glittering, Qi-rich waters.
According to his memories, living here was a status symbol reserved for the children of powerful clans or those with exceptional talent. The Lin Clan, though currently facing some difficulties, was still a prominent name, hence his placement here.
He arrived at a simple yet elegant courtyard marked with a small plaque bearing the character "Lin". Pushing the wooden gate open, he stepped into a small, well-kept garden. A stone path led to a modest house. It was peaceful.
"Young Master! You're back!"
A voice, bright and lively as a sparrow's chirp, cut through the quiet. A young girl burst from the house, a smile on her face that could outshine the sun.
She looked about fourteen or fifteen, with round, apple-like cheeks still holding a hint of baby fat. Her large, expressive eyes were the color of dark honey, and they sparkled with genuine joy. Her hair was tied up in two playful twin tails that bounced with her every step.
This was Yu Tao'er, his personal maidservant, assigned to him by the Lin Clan.
Her smile, however, vanished the instant her eyes landed on him. It was replaced by sheer, unadulterated horror.
"Young Master! Are you hurt? What happened?!" she cried out, rushing forward so fast she almost tripped over her own feet.
She skidded to a halt in front of him, her small hands fluttering nervously, wanting to touch him to check for injuries but afraid to cause more pain.
Lin Yun froze for a second. A maidservant. A personal maidservant. This was a concept straight out of history books for him.
On Earth, he lived alone, cooked his own meals, and cleaned his own apartment. Having someone whose job was to attend to his every need was… profoundly awkward.
The original Lin Yun's memories provided a framework of how to interact with her—a kind of absent-minded, masterly acceptance—but it felt strange to slip into that role. He felt like an imposter.
He forced himself to relax and offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "It's nothing, Tao'er. Just a minor accident during alchemy practice. The cauldron had a… mishap. I'm fine."
"Fine? How can you be fine? There's so much blood!" Her eyes were wide with panic, already glistening with unshed tears.
She pointed a trembling finger at the dark stain on his chest. "We must go to the medical hall immediately! Right now! I will fetch Physician Li!"
She turned to run, but Lin Yun gently reached out and caught her by the shoulder. Her frame was small and slight under his hand.
"Tao'er, really, I'm alright," he said, his voice softer now. "It looks dramatic, but it's just a surface wound. It's already stopped bleeding. See?"
He patted his chest lightly, wincing only a little internally. "No broken bones. Nothing serious."
The little maid was not convinced. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, her hands on her hips, a comically serious expression on her young face. "Young Master cannot lie to Tao'er! Please, let me see! I must check for myself!"
Before he could protest further, she stepped closer, her small hands gently patting his arms, his shoulders, his back. Her touch was light and quick, her face a mask of intense concentration.
She checked his pulse on his wrist, her brows furrowed. She even stood on her tiptoes to scrutinize his face for any sign of pallor or pain.
Lin Yun stood still, enduring the inspection with a mixture of amusement and bemusement. This level of concern was… new. And oddly touching.
Finally, after a thorough examination that would put any seasoned physician to shame, she took a step back. The tension drained from her small shoulders, and she let out a long, exaggerated sigh of relief, her hand pressed over her heart.
"Ahhh… it is true. The Young Master is really not badly hurt. Thank the heavens!" she breathed, a smile finally returning to her face, though it was still wobbly with leftover worry. "But your robes are ruined! And you must be exhausted! Come, come inside. I will draw a hot bath for you immediately and prepare some spirit tea to help you recover your energy!"
She didn't wait for an answer, already bustling towards the house, her twin tails swishing behind her like eager puppies, already switching from worried medic to efficient housemaker.
Lin Yun watched her go, the wry smile still on his face. The cold fury from the alchemy chamber was still there, a hard knot in his stomach.
But in this small, quiet courtyard by the lake, with a lively little maid fretting over him, he felt a strange sense of… anchoring.
This was his new starting point. Level 1. A damaged body. A mysterious enemy…