The musty smell of dry straw stung his nostrils. A young man jolted awake from his sleep on a pile of coarse straw. His breath hitched, his eyes wide as he stared at the leaky roof of the shack. "Where is this?" Lin Tian sat up, his hand rubbing his throbbing forehead, his gaze wildly scanning his surroundings.
All he saw were dilapidated wooden walls, a dirt floor, and air that felt much fresher, yet utterly alien. "I should be sitting in my ergonomic chair... My laptop... The Raid Boss..." he muttered softly. His last memory was perfectly clear: he was engrossed in a game in his comfortable boarding room, his fingers dancing across the keyboard.
But the next second, a sharp, non-physical pain struck his head, an immediate flood of information rushing into his brain.
The Yan Empire. The QinYang Sect. Outer Disciple.
Lin Tian closed his eyes, stifling a groan, and took a long breath to calm his racing heart. In a matter of seconds, his gaze shifted from confusion to calmness, then to sharpness.
"Transmigration," he whispered, a faint, calculating smile playing on the corner of his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"And coincidentally, the original owner of this body is also named Lin Tian". He inspected his body, noting it was thin and lacked strength, clad in a dull gray, coarse cloth robe—the standard uniform of an Outer Disciple of the QinYang Sect, one of the three colossal sects in the Yan Empire. The status was low, but at least he was still alive. Lin Tian did not waste time lamenting; complaining would not change the facts. He immediately stepped out of the rickety shack.
The sight before him silenced him for a moment. It was not multi-story buildings or asphalt roads, but an endless stretch of a medicinal garden. Rows of herbal plants with leaves that faintly glowed extended as far as the eye could see. The air felt dense, every breath seeming to revitalize his lungs with Spiritual energy. "
Brother Lin!"
A shrill shout broke his reverie. From a distance, a skinny youth ran, panting, toward him, his small feet moving nimbly between the soil ridges.
"Brother Lin, what are you doing spacing out over there? Hurry up!"
The youth, whose breath was ragged, stopped in front of Lin Tian. "We have to harvest this Dew Spirit Grass before the sun gets too high. The Medicine Hall is already waiting for our submission!" Lin Tian stared at the youth; a name surfaced in his mind: Liu Fan. A close friend, they had joined the QinYang Sect together a year ago, both from commoner backgrounds and struggling at the bottom of the sect's hierarchy.
"My apologies, I was feeling a bit dizzy just now," Lin Tian replied casually, a friendly smile on his face, though his eyes quickly assessed Liu Fan's condition and the tools in his hands: a small rusty sickle and a bamboo basket. "Come on, let's not waste time." Lin Tian picked up his sickle lying beside the shack door and followed Liu Fan toward the unharvested patch of land. Despite this being a new world, his body possessed muscle memory.
Lin Tian's hands moved deftly; he bent down, efficiently sweeping the base of the Dew Spirit Grass with precision, then tossing it into the basket on his back. His movements were efficient, minimizing wasted energy. Beside him, Liu Fan worked while continuously grumbling. "Hmph, look at this. We work from dawn until our backs are nearly broken, but the Contribution Points we get are just scraps left over," Liu Fan complained while wiping sweat. "Two points for a hundred bundles? That's not even enough to exchange for one lowest-grade Blood Strengthening Pill at the Treasure Pavilion". Lin Tian merely nodded slowly, staying focused on his work.
"This world really isn't fair,"
Liu Fan added, frustrated. "The world is never fair to the weak, Fan," Lin Tian replied calmly, his hands never stopping.
"Instead of complaining, it's better we finish this so our points aren't docked again".
In his mind, Lin Tian was calculating: Two contribution points per hundred bundles. It takes fifty harvests for one pill. That is inefficient. I need to find another way. But for now, survival is the priority. He hid his ambition behind a calm face; becoming too conspicuous while still weak was the fastest way to die foolishly.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps approached, causing the ground to shake slightly. A large shadow covered the sunlight hitting them, causing Lin Tian and Liu Fan to simultaneously stop and look up. A muscular youth stood towering near them, his bulging arm muscles visible beneath his short-sleeved robe, looking hard as stone
. His face was fierce, with thick, scowling eyebrows. Zhang Ming. Lin Tian's memory immediately recognized this figure: an older Outer Disciple tasked with guarding the Southern Region Medicine Garden. His cultivation was two levels above theirs, and his temper was foul.
"Hey, you two little mice!"
Zhang Ming's voice boomed, causing Liu Fan to flinch slightly.
"Why have your hands stopped? Do you want to take a breather today?"
Zhang Ming's eyes stared sharply, as if looking for an excuse to strike.
Lin Tian immediately straightened up, looking at Zhang Ming without fear, yet maintaining the appropriate gesture of respect.
"We are expediting our work, Senior Brother Zhang," Lin Tian replied firmly, without stuttering. "Today's quota will be completed on time".
Zhang Ming snorted roughly, his eyes narrowing at Lin Tian, who wasn't trembling as usual. "Good that you know your place. Finish before the noon bell rings, or don't expect to get your lunch ration!"