One moment, there was nothing. The next, it felt like a heavy truck had parked on his chest. He tried to gasp for air, a reflex from his old life, but his lungs wouldn't listen. Instead of a deep breath, a dry, rattling wheeze scraped out of his throat. It sounded like sandpaper rubbing against gravel.
Cough~cough~!!!!!
"Water..."
The word barely made a sound. The voice wasn't his. It didn't belong to the twenty-year-old college student who had fallen asleep reading web novels on his phone. This voice sounded like it came from a tomb—cracked, ancient, and dry.
Panic hit him hard. He tried to scramble up, reaching for a nightstand that wasn't there. He expected his arms to be weak and heavy with sleep.
He didn't expect to put a crack in the floor.
His body moved with violent, jerky speed. The stone beneath his palms shattered into dust. He froze, crouching on the floor, staring at his hands.
They were ugly.
The skin was loose and hung off the bone like wet paper. It was covered in dark spots. The fingers were twisted and knotted like old roots. But when he flexed them, the skin didn't just wrinkle—it felt hard. The bones underneath were dense. Heavy. Stronger than steel.
He stood up slowly. His joints didn't creak like an old man's; they popped with a deep, heavy sound, like two grinding rocks. He didn't feel weak. He felt like a machine that had been left to rust, but the engine inside was still a beast.
"No!!!"
He touched his face. Rough, like dried leather. He pulled a strand of white hair; it snapped instantly.
"What the hell is this?!" he shouted.
The sound was too loud. It didn't just echo; it shook the room. Dust fell from the ceiling. The vibration rattled his own chest.
He took a step back, and his heel crushed the stone floor into powder. He wasn't just old. He was ancient. He was a candle that had burned down to the last drop of wax, but the flame was still hot enough to burn steel.
Then, the headache hit.
It wasn't a normal headache. It was a flood. Memories that weren't his forced their way into his skull, pushing out his own panic with cold, hard facts.
Ancestor Li. The 'trash' of the Golden Generation. Locked in a cave for five hundred years. Tried to break through to the Great Saint Realm. But failed. Qi deviation, Body dried up and Death.
"I... I'm Ancestor Li?" he whispered. The name felt weird in his mouth.
He closed his eyes, letting the memories settle. He saw the history of the sect through the old man's eyes. The Heavenly Ancient Sect. It used to be huge, ruling the Nine Worlds. It was founded by a Great Emperor named Ren Huang.
"Ren Huang..."
The name triggered something else. Not the old man's memory, but his own. He knew that name.
"Ren Huang. The Nine Worlds. The Heavenly Ancient Sect..."
His eyes snapped open. He looked around the dark cave.
"Wait. This setting... these names..."
A cold feeling washed over him. He knew this world. He hadn't just lived it; he had read about it.
"This is Desolate Emperor's Counterattack."
He remembered the novel. It was a story about a lucky village boy who found treasure after treasure, beating up everyone who looked at him wrong.
For a second, he was excited. Then, reality kicked in.
"But... who am I?"
He thought hard. He scanned the book's plot in his head. Ancestor Li. Nothing. The guy didn't exist. He was a nobody. An extra who probably died in the background to explain why the sect was weak.
"I transmigrated," he muttered, looking at his wrinkled hands. "I finally get sent to a fantasy world, and I'm a dying extra? Where's my cheat? Where's my superpower? Is my golden finger just arthritis?"
Ding!
A sharp, mechanical noise rang in his head.
[System Awakening...]
[Binding Host: Old Li]
[Current Vessel: Dying Ancestor of Heavenly Ancient Sect]
[Status: Critical - Near Death]
"A System?" He let out a dry laugh. "Of course. Finally."
[System Integration Complete.]
[System Overview: The Host has been bound to the Disciple Rebate System. The goal is to teach a disciple to make him the Great Emperor of this generation.]
"And what good is that to a corpse right now?" Li asked bitterly.
"The Host will get rewards when you give resources to the disciple. Give something, get something better back. As long as you raise the disciple, you live."
Old Li narrowed his eyes. It wasn't charity; it was a business deal. Invest in a kid, profit from the returns. A pyramid scheme for living forever.
[Host Profile]
Name: Old Li
Identity: Ancestor Of Heavenly Ancient Sect
Lifespan: 71 hours, 14 minutes.
Cultivation: Saint Realm (fell back after failing to break through to the Great Saint Realm).
Current Strength: Even though your life force is gone, foundation is still at the Saint Realm. The strongest people in the sect right now are just Dao Slasher Kings. One levels above them.
Main Quest: Raise a Great Emperor.
Starter Pack: Available.]
"Seventy-one hours." He felt a chill, but the strength part made him pause. He closed his eyes and reached out with his senses. He could feel the people in the sect miles away. They felt... small. Like candles next to a bonfire.
"The old owner failed the breakthrough," Li thought. "But a dying camel is still bigger than a horse. Even like this, I could crush those annoying descendants with one hand."
He opened the Starter Pack mentally.
[Starter Pack Opened:]
[
Pill of Choice (Heaven Tier): A voucher to make one specific pill.
Eye of Truth (Passive): Lets you see hidden items and cultivation levels.
Currency Pack (Total Value: 10,000 Supreme Stones):
300 Supreme Spirit Stones
700,000 Saint Spirit Stones
100,000,000 Royal Spirit Stones
8,000,000,000 Mortal Spirit Stones
]
He ignored the pill for now. He grabbed a rotten wooden staff from the corner—his weapon for five hundred years.
He stepped out into the back mountains. The air was nice, but he didn't care about the view.
"If this is the start of the book," he muttered, "I need to check the time."
He started moving. Even though he looked like a corpse, he didn't walk normally. He covered ground fast. One step took him ten yards. He bypassed the main buildings and headed for the outer edge of the sect where the barrier was weak—the place where wanderers usually showed up.
He walked for miles without sweating. His life was burning out fast, but his body was still high-level.
Eventually, he reached the woods at the edge of the sect. He slowed down, using his Eye of Truth to scan the tall grass near the old path.
There.
He stopped, leaning on his cane. About twenty feet away, a body lay in the dirt.
It was a man wearing dusty traveler clothes. He was on his back, staring blankly at the trees.
"Dead," Old Li said.
He walked closer. No blood. No cuts. But the chest looked crushed. Someone hit him with internal force and shattered his heart.
Old Li frowned. This scene felt familiar. A dead messenger on the outskirts of the mountain.
"Wait," he whispered, looking from the body to the path leading to the village. "The outer path. The dead body. This is Chapter 1."
In the novel, the main character—a village kid named Wang—was supposed to be here. He was supposed to find this body, steal the item, and start his journey to becoming a legend.
"But Wang isn't here," Old Li realized, looking at the quiet woods. The birds were singing. No snapping twigs. "I'm early."
He bent down—his knees popped—and checked the body. The man's right hand was clenched tight against his chest, frozen in a death grip.
Old Li pried the stiff fingers open.
A heavy, metal piece fell into his hand.
It was a token. Dark, old metal, with carvings that seemed to move. It hummed with power that made his blood feel hot.
"The Heavenly Ancient Order," he whispered. He sounded amazed, but also a little darkly amused.
He knew what this was immediately. In the book, the village kid Wang found this token here. But in this life, Old Li got there first. The kid's "lucky moment"—the thing that started the whole plot—was in Li's hand.
"Old Gui must be dead," Li muttered. He remembered the name from the old man's memories. Old Gui was a weird guy from the past who guarded this stuff. He must have sent this messenger.
It didn't matter, though. The loot was his.
He gripped the token tight. In the book, the kid took this to the front gate and became a legend. Now, a dying old man who wasn't even supposed to be in the story had stolen it.
"Sorry, Wang," Old Li rasped. He put the token in his sleeve and let out a dry, dusty chuckle. "Looks like I beat you to it. Finders keepers."