In a quiet plain embraced by dense forests lay the countryside of Qing Gu Cheng. The morning sun stretched across the land, warm and gentle—a perfect beginning to what should have been an ordinary day.
Not far from the forest's edge stood an abandoned farm.
It had been left to decay after a sect war a hundred years ago, a conflict that scarred the land and drove away those who once depended on it. Since then, no one had dared to claim it. The soil was difficult to sustain, the location inconvenient, and the city itself relied on supplies from neighboring regions. To most, the place held no value—only risk and wasted effort.
The land was free for anyone bold enough to take it.
Yet no one came.
Until someone did.
Not a fool looking to throw away his fortune, but someone who saw something more—an opportunity hidden beneath neglect.
Li Xiaofan had only just arrived in the town, a stranger with little to his name but a quiet determination. He had wandered for days, searching for a path, for something worth committing to.
And then he found it.
A farm.
Or rather… the remains of one.
With its terrible reputation, acquiring the land was effortless. No negotiations, no competition—it was easier than asking date to someone. No one wanted it, so no one stopped him.
And just like that, it became his.
An elderly man was assigned to guide him there. Though well into his later years, the man carried himself with surprising vigor, his steps steady, his back straight.
They walked along a narrow dirt path, overgrown with bushes and wild grass. The farm lay only a kilometer away from the village, yet to Xiaofan, unfamiliar with the land, it felt like stepping into a different world entirely.
The air grew quieter the deeper they went.
After a while, the old man glanced at him, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"Hm. Of all things…" he said slowly. "You chose to become a farmer, eh?"
He paused, then added,
"Why?"
Li Xiaofan smiled faintly at the elderly man, his gaze drifting to the sky as memories of another life tugged at him.
The truth was… he hadn't even wanted this. Not really. In this world, without cultivation, influence, or wealth, survival was nearly impossible.
Yet here he was, pushed forward by something he could neither ignore nor refuse.
A yellowish screen hovered beside him, semi-transparent but alive with numbers, icons, and options. The elderly man walking beside him… couldn't see it. Not a hint of it. Only Xiaofan could.
Long story short: he had transversed worlds.
Once, he had been an Earthling. That ordinary life ended the day a catastrophic typhoon tore through his city, followed by a string of unlucky events that left him waking… here.
In Jianghu.
A land of sects and warriors, where strength was law and survival required power.
And yet, despite all that, he had survived.
But thinking about it sometimes made his blood boil.
He couldn't help but remember that smug, flamboyant man—the so-called creator of this system. A man who, for some reason, thought it amusing to watch him struggle.
Because the truth was, when he arrived, he didn't even have a dantian. Not a single one. He didn't know such a thing even existed.
And in a world of martial artists, where strength flowed from one's dantian, he was… nothing.
"Brother," a dantian examiner had said with disbelief, "this is my first time seeing someone without a dantian. Even the lowest beings—and some animals—have one. And you… you don't."
Every time Xiaofan remembered those words, rage welled inside him. It wasn't just anger—it was a fire that refused to die.
Fuck it.
Instead of a smile, Xiaofan's expression twisted into quiet rage. The elderly man noticed immediately, his brow furrowing. Perhaps he had crossed a line, said something offensive. Carefully, he asked,
"Are you all right? Did I say something wrong?"
Xiaofan snapped out of his thoughts, quickly forcing a chuckle as he scratched the back of his head, even though it itched not at all.
"No, no… just remembered something. Hahaha."
The elderly man let out a sigh of relief, and they continued in silence, the path growing narrower as the farm drew closer.
After a few more steps, the farm finally appeared. Its condition was far worse than Xiaofan had imagined.
It was natural, of course—abandoned for decades, left to the mercy of time. Leaves and weeds blanketed the fields, and the old buildings bore cracks in their walls. Yet, somehow, they were still standing. That alone impressed him.
The farm was surrounded by overgrown grass, and the walls and roofs were littered with fallen leaves—a testament to age and neglect. Even so, the structure had been built from durable, high-quality materials.
Most striking of all, despite the sect war that had raged here a century ago, the farm didn't feel completely destroyed. It looked… untouched. Preserved in a strange way, as if time had claimed it, but war had not.
"This is why no one wanted this place in the first place. Look at the soil—it's hard and terrible for planting. The worst part? Renovation would cost a fortune. And behind it… dense forest, full of low to mid-tier apex animals, even monsters. Livestock here would be a disaster."
The elder said this, glancing at Xiao Fan. But instead of reacting as expected, Xiao Fan seemed… delighted.
To him, this place was perfect. Every angle, every corner—it fit everything he had been looking for. He barely even heard the elder's warnings, lost in thought, analyzing how he could turn this forsaken land into something great.
The old man froze in disbelief. He had expected shock, hesitation, maybe even fear. Instead, this young man looked as if he had just entered an amusement park.
"What an amusement, indeed."
"What amusement? Bullshit."
Originally, this place had been abandoned for a reason—no one dared live near a forest unprotected by formation arrays. Yet this young man… he seemed completely unfazed. Irritated, the elder turned and started to leave.
"Hmph."
"It's up to you now, young man. I hope you don't regret it."
The elder's departure carried the weight of offense, though Xiao Fan didn't even understand what he had done to provoke it. Shrugging it off, he turned back and stepped into the farm.
The grass blocked the path. Not long, not short—just tall enough to brush above his knees.
Reaching the structure that seemed like a house, he grasped the door. It creaked loudly as he pushed it open, the sound echoing through the quiet air.
Inside, surprisingly, the place had decent furniture, some of it still intact. Xiao Fan's eyes scanned every corner, analyzing the house, mentally noting what could be useful, what could be restored, what could be discarded.
DING!
A screen suddenly appeared in front of him.
"Discard useless furniture and items, and clean the area."
Reward: Mid-rate tools.
Failed: Death.
Xiao Fan froze. Blinked. Twice. Then slowly reached out to touch the screen, eyes widening as he read the last word.
Death.
"What the… what do you mean death?! Just cleaning, and if I fail I die?!" he shouted, stepping back. "This is absurd!!"