Eighteen years.
That's how long Lin Xiao had lived in the dusty, forgotten village of Shibu. A place so isolated, so backward, that even birds hesitated to fly overhead. Here, life was a cycle of mud, millet, and misery. Not a single visitor from the outside world ever passed through. Not even bandits. The only thing that ever changed was the weather—and even that was usually bad.
To Lin Xiao, who had once been a tech worker in a sprawling city with skyscrapers, Wi-Fi, ramen vending machines, and soul-crushing overtime, reincarnation was supposed to be a fresh start. A second chance. A golden opportunity to grasp the mysteries of the universe and reach new heights.
Instead, he'd been reborn to a world without even plumbing.
No cultivation manuals. No sects. No energy-drenched mountains or secret martial arts. Just fields, chickens, and villagers who considered spicy pickled turnip to be the height of luxury.
If there was a higher path, it certainly didn't pass through Shibu Village.
Lin Xiao lay on a patchy hill, half-buried in weeds, staring up at the clouds. They drifted lazily through the sky like they had nothing better to do—much like the entire village.
"This world is cursed," he whispered, his voice full of dramatic despair. "Where are the dragon-slaying swords? The immortal masters? The spirit beasts with flaming eyes?"
He rolled over and pressed his face into the grass.
"I would kill for a functioning toilet…"
The village elders often said he was 'touched in the head.' After all, who else would babble about 'electricity,' 'hot showers,' and something called a 'gacha game'? The children liked him though—mainly because he gave them strange nicknames and taught them words like "procrastinate" and "debug."
His one joy in life was teasing the village girls. The way their cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the dramatic slaps, the outraged fathers threatening to break his legs—it was all a part of the dance.
"Xiao'er!" a voice shouted from below the hill. "Stop bothering my Chunhua, or I'll toss you into the pigpen again!"
Lin Xiao groaned and sat up. "Uncle Chen, I was merely admiring her embroidery. Truly, the needlework of a goddess. You should be proud."
"You called her threads 'sexy silk lines'!"
He grinned. "A compliment from the heart!"
The angry farmer marched away, muttering about "lunatics and hornless donkeys," while Chunhua peeked from behind a curtain, giggling.
Ah, the simple pleasures.
But fate—cruel, chaotic, cosmic fate—had grown tired of Lin Xiao's peace.
It began with Bear Kid.
The terror of the village. Barely five years old, round as a dumpling, stronger than a calf, and louder than a crow in heat. He had already bitten two goats, knocked out a chicken with his forehead, and once chewed a rock because it looked "suspicious."
That day, Bear Kid was in pursuit of justice.
A fat rooster had stolen his last steamed bun.
"You cocky thief!" he screamed, chasing the bird through the dusty village paths. "Return my bun or taste divine retribution!"
Villagers watched with mild interest as the battle raged. The rooster flapped furiously, wings wheezing, claws digging into the dirt. Bear Kid raised a rock the size of a melon, his little arm trembling with righteous fury.
"Dodge this, birdbrain!"
The rooster zigzagged.
The rock flew.
And on the hill, oblivious to the oncoming divine retribution, Lin Xiao was just lying back down with a sigh.
CRACK!
Everything went black.
---
"Is he dead?"
"I think he's breathing."
"No, wait, that's just the wind."
"Look! His eyes twitched!"
Lin Xiao's mind surfaced like a bubble from deep water. His head pulsed with a dull ache. A warm current surged through his chest, unfamiliar and strangely comforting. The world felt different—sharper, clearer, heavier with unseen meaning.
The villagers were standing around him, peering down as if examining a suspicious root vegetable.
Then it happened.
A golden light flashed in his vision. For a moment, the sky above swirled with unknowable patterns, and a voice—not loud, but impossibly vast—rumbled inside his skull:
"Supreme Enlightenment Talent Activated."
His breath caught.
And suddenly, knowledge poured in like a flood.
He could see the air currents around the rooster flapping nearby. He understood the structural perfection of a bamboo stalk's segments. He could calculate, without effort, how to redirect rainwater from the hilltop to the fields using nothing but hollow logs and stone angles.
It was like someone had plugged the universe directly into his brain.
"What… what is this?" he muttered, wide-eyed. "I can… feel patterns in everything. I can understand why the rooster crosses the road… and what would make it faster…"
The villagers stared.
Lin Xiao slowly stood, eyes still shining faintly gold. "Fetch me bamboo, vines, chicken feathers, and a hammer."
"What?"
"I'm going to invent something. Something that will change our lives forever."
Old Zhao blinked. "Son, are you sure that rock didn't rattle something loose?"
Lin Xiao turned to the crowd, raising one hand to the sky like a prophet.
"This world has slept for too long in ignorance! But no more! The age of mud huts and outhouses ends now! I shall build—" he paused for dramatic effect, "—a toilet that flushes!"
Dead silence.
A dog barked.
Then someone coughed.
"...Flushes what?" asked a confused villager.
Lin Xiao's eye twitched. "Everything."
The villagers exchanged glances. Some shrugged. A few wandered off. Chunhua's little brother clapped.
Lin Xiao didn't care.
He turned his gaze to the horizon, where the mountains loomed like sleeping giants. Somewhere beyond them, surely, there had to be other people. Other villages. Perhaps even cities. He had never seen them, but he would. He must.
"I don't know what this power is…" he whispered to himself. "But it's mine now. And I'm done living like a caveman."
He clenched his fist.
"I'm going to bring this world into a new age. Whether it likes it or not."
And somewhere, far beyond the mountains, in a world that had long forgotten the name 'Shibu Village,' a cultivator shivered slightly and looked around in confusion.
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