The water in the creek was clear and shallow, sunlight dancing across its surface.
A group of children gathered along the banks—some with their pants rolled up, others barefoot—laughter echoing as they splashed about, trying to catch fish with their bare hands.
"Ah! It slipped again!"
"They're too fast!"
Near the edge of the creek, a boy around nine years old crouched on a flat stone, completely ignoring the chaos behind him. His fingers moved swiftly, weaving long green vines together with practiced ease.
The vines bent, crossed, and tightened under his hands, forming a rough yet sturdy net.
Gradually, the other children noticed.
They stopped splashing.
"Huh?"
"What's Big Brother Yuan doing?"
"Why is he tying vines together?"
A few curious kids gathered around him.
"Big Brother Yuan," one of them asked, eyes wide, "what are you making?"
Shen Yuan didn't look up as he worked. His tone was calm and steady—far more composed than a child his age should be.
"A net," he said.
"A net?" another kid tilted his head. "Made of vines?"
"To catch fish," Shen Yuan replied simply.
The children blinked.
Then their eyes lit up.
"You can do that?"
"Really?"
"Big Brother Yuan, does it work?"
Shen Yuan finished the last knot, tugged on it twice to test its strength, then stood up. He dusted off his hands and glanced at the creek, quietly measuring the flow with his eyes.
"It will," he said. "If you listen to me."
That was all it took.
He was popular in Qing Shui Village—not because he was loud or strong, but because he always had ideas. Ideas that worked. Ideas adults praised and children admired.
"Everyone, come here," he said, waving them over. "We'll block the narrow end of the creek."
The older kids helped stretch the vine net across a narrower section downstream, fixing the ends between stones and exposed roots. Shen Yuan walked along the edges, pointing here and there.
"Close that gap."
"Tie it higher—fish can jump."
"Don't leave openings."
Once the net was secure, he turned to the smaller children upstream.
"You lot," he said, a faint smile appearing, "make noise. Splash the water. Chase the fish down."
The younger kids cheered.
They jumped into the creek, laughing loudly as water splattered everywhere. Some stomped, others waved their arms wildly, shrieking as if it were nothing more than a game—which, to them, it was.
Shen Yuan stood near the net, watching closely.
"Careful—don't let them slip to the sides."
"Hold steady."
"Now!"
The water churned.
Moments later, shadows flickered beneath the surface—then silver flashes.
Fish rushed downstream in panic, straight into the vine net.
The net bulged.
"Whoa—!"
"There are so many!"
"We caught them!"
The children rushed over, eyes shining, and together dragged the net onto the shore.
Fish flopped wildly on the wet stones.
For a moment, everyone just stared.
"So many…"
"Big Brother Yuan is amazing!"
"We're eating fish tonight!"
Shen Yuan chuckled softly.
After the excitement settled, he squatted down and began dividing the fish carefully.
"Each family gets some," he said. "Even if you didn't help much."
"But I'm small, and I didn't do anything!" one child said hesitantly.
"You still came," Shen Yuan replied. "That's enough."
No one argued.
They carried their shares home proudly, already shouting to their families from afar.
That evening, smoke rose from many kitchens in Qing Shui Village.
Fish soup simmered. Oil sizzled. Laughter drifted through wooden doors.
Shen Yuan sat across from his grandfather—the only family he had left in this world—eating quietly.
His grandfather's hands were rough and calloused, shaped by years of labor, yet his movements were gentle as he placed another piece of fish into Shen Yuan's bowl. He didn't say much. He didn't need to.
The meal was simple—but warm.
Later that night, Shen Yuan lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
The house was quiet.
Only then did a faint, translucent light appear before his eyes.
A pale screen, invisible to everyone else.
At its center hovered a progress bar.
[System Initialization: 99%]
Shen Yuan exhaled slowly.
Yes.
He had reincarnated into this world.
And that thing before his eyes—
That was his golden finger.
The light flickered softly, as if waiting for the final moment to arrive.
Shen Yuan closed his eyes, a faint smile on his lips.
…Tomorrow would be different.
But sleep refused to come, anticipation keeping him awake.
My name is Lin Yuan.
At least, that was the name I used in my previous life.
I was an orphan. No parents, no relatives worth mentioning. I grew up relying on scholarships, part-time jobs, and sheer self-discipline. By the time I entered society, I had already learned how to smile politely, endure silently, and stop expecting anything extra from life.
I worked an office job.
Nothing glamorous. Nothing meaningful.
Every day followed the same rhythm—alarm clock, crowded subway, stiff smiles exchanged with colleagues, endless documents, and the dull ache behind my eyes when night fell.
I didn't dream of riches or glory. I only wanted a quiet, stable life where I could breathe without pressure.
But life didn't even grant me that.
That night, I was walking home late. City lights stretched endlessly across the river, reflections trembling on the dark surface below. The bridge was crowded as usual—cars roaring past, footsteps overlapping, nobody truly paying attention to anyone else.
Then I saw her.
A little girl stood near the railing, frozen in place. Her eyes were wide as a truck barreled toward her—far too fast, its horn blaring too late.
People shouted.
Someone cursed.
But no one moved.
I don't remember thinking.
My body acted before my mind caught up. I rushed forward, grabbed the girl, and pushed her away with everything I had.
The impact came immediately.
Pain exploded through my body. My vision spun as I was thrown backward, weightless for a brief, terrifying moment—
Then the world flipped.
Wind howled past my ears.
The bridge lights vanished above me.
And then—
Cold.
Freezing, suffocating water rushed into my mouth and nose. My body sank uncontrollably, limbs refusing to respond. Panic surged, instinct screaming for air, but all I could taste was bitterness and darkness.
So this is death, I thought vaguely.
Truck-kun really did get me.
My consciousness faded.
I woke up choking.
Water poured from my mouth as I coughed violently, my chest burning as air finally rushed back into my lungs. My whole body trembled, weak and uncoordinated.
For a moment, I thought I had been rescued and sent to a hospital.
Then I realized something was wrong.
My hands—small, pale, unfamiliar—pressed against the wet ground.
They weren't the hands of an adult man hardened by years of work.
They were soft.
Thin.
Childlike.
My heart skipped a beat.
Before I could process it, a rough hand grabbed my collar and hauled me upright. I gasped again as more water spilled from my mouth, my vision blurring before finally stabilizing.
A middle-aged man stood before me, clothes soaked, breathing heavily. His face was tanned and weathered, his eyes filled with lingering fear.
"You scared me to death, kid," he muttered. "Why were you playing near the river?"
I couldn't answer.
Because behind him—
There were no buildings.
No concrete roads. No steel bridges. No city skyline.
Instead, golden fields stretched as far as the eye could see, swaying gently in the wind. Beyond them lay dense forests and distant green mountains beneath a vast, open sky. The air smelled clean, carrying the scent of soil and grass.
This wasn't Earth.
My mind went blank.
The man wrapped me in a coarse cloth and led me away from the riverbank. My legs were weak, my steps unsteady. Every movement felt foreign, as though my body didn't quite belong to me yet.
As we walked, fragments of unfamiliar memories surfaced—fields, wooden houses, warm voices, simple meals. They merged with my own memories, overlapping painfully.
I wasn't just transported here.
I had been reborn.
By the time we reached a small village nestled beside the fields, the truth settled heavily in my chest.
This was a cultivation world.
And I wasn't some chosen genius or from a powerful family background.
I came from a spiritual farming lineage.
Just as that realization formed, a strange voice echoed faintly inside my mind—cold, mechanical, distant.
"Detected suitable host."
"Ascension Farming System initializing…"
"1%… 5%…"
I froze.
The night wind brushed across the fields, carrying the scent of earth.
And in that moment, staring at the unfamiliar stars above, I understood—
My quiet life hadn't ended.
It had begun again, in a world of prey and predators.
The system's initialization… took a long time.
Far longer than I expected.
I was reborn as a five-year-old child, my past-life memories awakening after a near-death experience.
By the time I understood this world, learned its language, and adapted to village life, years had already passed.
Now, I was nine.
By my calculations, tomorrow would be my tenth birthday.
Yet the system remained incomplete.
The progress bar hovered in my vision day after day, unmoving most of the time, crawling forward at a pace that tested my patience.
At first, I thought my golden finger was defective.
Low-grade.
Or broken.
Without it, I could only rely on myself.
I helped with farm work. I carried water, tilled soil, planted crops, and harvested grain. I used what little knowledge I remembered to improve small things—simple tools, sturdier furniture, better ways to store food.
Nothing shocking.
Nothing world-changing.
Just… useful.
Slowly, the villagers trusted me. The children followed me. The adults smiled and shook their heads, calling me too mature for my age.
But deep down, I waited.
Every night, I checked that faint light.
Still incomplete.
Tonight was different.
Past midnight, when the village had long fallen asleep, the translucent screen before my eyes trembled.
The progress bar moved.
[99%… 100%]
The light flared—then stabilized.
A new screen unfolded before me, clear and unmistakable.
"Welcome, Host, to the Ascension Farming System."
"Due to damage sustained by the host's soul during reincarnation, system bonding required extended time for complete repair and synchronization."
"Soul healing complete. System binding successful."
"You have received a Newbie Encouragement Package."
"System Inventory unlocked: 5 slots available."
"To grow stronger and obtain system rewards, the host must cultivate plants and animals."
I stared at the screen.
My heartbeat slowly quickened.
After nearly five years…
My golden finger had finally arrived.
I lay back on the bed, staring at the dark ceiling, a quiet smile forming at the corner of my lips.
Outside, the fields slept.
But I knew
From tomorrow onward, those fields would change.
And so would I.