It was another ordinary workday. The sky had already taken on the dim hues that signaled the end of the evening rush.
Wen Tan, our protagonist, stepped out of the restaurant at a brisk pace. The clock was nearing six in the evening. After standing in the kitchen all day, lifting heavy pots and pans, a dull ache had already crept into his lower back. Outside, rain poured down in sheets, and the howling wind whistled sharply past his ears. News headlines flickered across the giant LED screen at the street corner.
Wen Tan sighed inwardly.
"The weakened tropical depression left over from Typhoon No. 4 is causing widespread heavy rainfall… So they say. Looks like its impact really is huge. Going out in this kind of weather is a nightmare…"
Muttering to himself, he pulled his collar up and plunged into the congested traffic, the roads clogged with vehicles due to flooding.
"Depressions, high pressure systems whatever," he scoffed under his breath. "Compared to the pressure I have to live under, that stuff is nothing.
"If I don't go out and work, I'll starve sooner or later anyway."
Nearly half an hour later, he finally made it back to his tiny rented room, barely ten square meters in size. Dropping into a chair, Wen Tan turned on his computer and launched his favorite role-playing game. He stuffed a cold piece of bread into his mouth, took a sip of plain water, and let out a self-mocking chuckle.
"If life were like a game, that would be great. You could do the impossible anyone could become a sword immortal or a superhero, wielding power that defies the laws of physics…
"But real life? It's just endless days of clocking in and out, living under pressure dictated by your superiors, forced to bottle up your emotions without daring to voice a single complaint."
Outside, the rain seemed determined to tear the sky apart. Thunder rumbled overhead, blending with the creaking hum of the electric fan in the room. Wen Tan's eyelids grew heavier and heavier…
He never realized when he had drifted into sleep.
Suddenly
A whirl of blue light spun beneath the bed. The air trembled as ancient runes flashed like flowing silver, wrapping tightly around his body. Wen Tan had no time to react before the world before his eyes twisted like cloth being violently wrung apart. A terrifying force dragged him into the void; his ears rang, his head felt as if it were about to explode.
Darkness.
When consciousness returned, he found himself lying on a rickety wooden bed. A damp, musty stench assaulted his nose. A furious shout rang out right beside his ear:
"Wen Tan! You useless piece of trash! Still sleeping at this hour instead of working? Do you want me to skin you alive and feed you to the pigs?!"
A bulky figure with a scowling face squatted at the head of the bed, gripping a bamboo rod and slamming it hard against the wooden floor smack!
Wen Tan jolted upright.
"Huh… what is this? Who… who are you? Where is this? Why am I here? Wasn't I sleeping in my room?"
From the corner of the room, a young man in gray robes named Si Yu leaned on a broom and let out a mocking laugh.
"Hahaha! Looks like this junior brother got beaten stupid yesterday."
The steward, Su Feng, glared fiercely.
"What are you standing there dazed for?! Get out to the courtyard and chop firewood! If you're late another moment, don't blame me for kicking you out of the Cloud Sword Sect!"
Wen Tan stammered, his mind spinning.
"Cloud… Sword… Sect?!"
The man in gray sneered.
"Heh, you don't even remember which sect you're in? Or did you dream you became a sword immortal and got your head scrambled? You think sleeping means you can dodge work?"
The bamboo rod struck the floor again. Su Feng roared, his face flushed crimson.
"Still standing there like a statue?! Get out there now! If you dare slack off again, don't even think about eating tonight!"
In the midst of his panic, Wen Tan hadn't had the chance to ask anything more when a splitting pain suddenly crashed down on him like a hammer. He clutched his head, his whole body trembling as if thousands of needles were piercing his brain.
"Ah damn it… it hurts… who are you people?!"
Fragments of unfamiliar memories surged into his mind the dilapidated wooden room, flickering kitchen fires, endless days of chopping wood and scrubbing pots… strange images intertwined with memories from his former life.
Moments later, Wen Tan panted heavily, drenched in sweat. When he opened his eyes again, he understood.
He had transmigrated.
This was the Cloud Sword Sect, a third-rate cultivation sect in Qingyun City. This body belonged to a menial disciple with the same name as his own, someone who survived by doing odd jobs in exchange for food.
He stared at his dry, skinny hands, fear flooding his heart.
"Damn it… this… isn't a dream, is it?"
Steward Su Feng barked angrily and grabbed Wen Tan by the collar, hauling him up.
"Get up already! Lost your tongue?! Hurry up and work for me!"
Outside the door, two other menial disciples were watching the commotion. One thin man whistled and sneered.
"See? I told you. This guy's lazy sooner or later the steward will beat him crippled."
Another, Wang Liu, curled his lips.
"Heard he even tried to sneak out to buy wine yesterday. Guess he's still drunk."
Su Feng glared at them.
"Shut up! You two want a beating too? Take him to the woodshed. Today, his workload is doubled!"
He shoved Wen Tan toward the door, snarling each word:
"Remember this well here, if you menials dare slack off, starving to death is all you'll get! Move it!"
…
The woodshed lay at the far end of the courtyard, damp and heavy with the smell of rotten wood. As they walked, the two menials whispered among themselves.
"Junior brother, you're unlucky today. When the steward's angry, it's never good."
"Hah! Serves you right. Who told you to wake up late? In the Cloud Sword Sect, even menials have to get up before dawn."
Wen Tan clenched his teeth and forced a weak smile, his thoughts in chaos.
"Menial disciple… Cloud Sword Sect… cultivation world… Did I really transmigrate to this world?"
The wooden door of the woodshed creaked open, dust billowing into the air. A mountain of firewood was piled inside, with axes and brooms scattered everywhere.
Su Feng jerked his chin.
"There. That's your job today. Chop all this firewood, then sweep the sword-training courtyard. If you dare slack off… hmph, pack your clothes and get lost!"
Casting a knife-like glare, he turned and left, his voice echoing back:
"If this isn't done by dinner, don't even dream of eating a single grain of rice!"
The door slammed shut, leaving Wen Tan standing stiffly, staring at the massive pile of firewood. He let out a long sigh.
"Is this some kind of joke… I was a modern-day chef just moments ago, and now that I've transmigrated, I end up as a woodcutter?"
Later that afternoon
Behind the sect Sword Training Courtyard
Wen Tan and four or five other menials were chopping wood, sweeping the grounds, and hauling water.
The weather was stiflingly hot, sweat pouring down their bodies. From afar came the sharp clang clang of sword practice.
In the distance, official disciples dressed in white robes moved with flashing sword light. Meanwhile, in the shaded corner of the courtyard, the menials in coarse cloth were covered in wood dust, their clothes soaked through with sweat.
A skinny man named A Bin swung his axe and glanced resentfully toward the training disciples.
"Hmph. Those inner disciples eat spirit pills and drink spirit tea, while we gulp down bran water and eat rice mixed with sawdust… If this month's allowance doesn't increase, I'll chop off my own head and use it as a pillow!"
A round-faced man called Xiao Fu, panting as he carried two buckets of water, chimed in:
"I heard that anyone who completes all their work without mistakes this year gets two extra Qi-Replenishing Pills."
A Bin curled his lips.
"Qi-Replenishing Pills? You think I've never seen one? They're no bigger than a pea barely enough to fill the gap between your teeth!"
An older man, Old Zhou, swept the courtyard while letting out a dry chuckle.
"Don't say that. One Qi-Replenishing Pill sells for at least two low-grade spirit stones at the Qingyun market. How many spirit stones do you have in your pouch?"
Xiao Fu sighed heavily.
"Me? None. Three years as a menial, and I've managed to save up… exactly one."
A Bin slammed his axe into the ground with a thud and cursed.
"Damn it! Slaving away for the sect our whole lives and still not even reaching the first level of Qi Refining!"
Old Zhou glanced at Wen Tan and gave a faint smile.
"And you, Wen Tan are you clear-headed today? Did the steward tear your tendons out yesterday or something? You're staring around like a cow wearing a hat."
Wen Tan felt a pang of guilt and forced a smile.
"Ah… no… yesterday I was just a bit tired. I still haven't quite recovered."
The group burst into laughter. A Bin slapped Wen Tan on the shoulder hard.
"Still dreaming of becoming a Sword Immortal? Hahaha! If you ever become one, I'll be the founding ancestor of the Cloud Sword Sect!"
Old Zhou paused his sweeping, his tone turning slightly serious.
"Joking aside, I heard next month they'll be selecting outer disciples from among the menials. Anyone who manages to cultivate even a trace of spiritual qi might have a chance… But don't get your hopes up. It won't be easy."
The atmosphere fell silent for a moment. A glimmer of longing flashed in their eyes, only to be quickly extinguished by reality. The wind passed through, carrying the scent of dry wood and sweat.
By late afternoon, the sky turned amber as the last rays of sunlight stained the stone courtyard red.
At the woodshed and menials' quarters beside the Cloud Sword Sect's main kitchen
The sun had already sunk behind the Qingyun Mountains. Sword qi still echoed faintly from the main plaza, but in the corner of the menials' yard, only the dull thud… thud… of axes striking wood remained, growing weaker by the moment. Sweat soaked through coarse cloth, and Wen Tan's palms were blistered and burning with pain.
Old Zhou leaned on his broom and wiped his forehead, his voice hoarse.
"That's enough. We'll stop here for today."
A Bin dropped his axe and collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath.
"Tomorrow we chop again… Don't know how long it'll be before allowance day."
Xiao Fu forced a smile as he set down his buckets.
"Just three more days. Hang in there. Three days and we'll get a few more Qi-Replenishing Pills enough for you to dream about becoming a Sword Immortal."
A Bin tossed a piece of firewood at Xiao Fu, and the group burst into laughter hoarse, weary laughter, yet carrying a faint warmth amid their harsh lives.
"Sword Immortal, my ass!"
Old Zhou waved his hand.
"Alright, head back and rest. Save your strength for tomorrow. In this sect, if you fall sick, you're on your own no one has time to pity you."
They stood up one after another, brushing off dust and hoisting their tools onto their shoulders. As Xiao Fu passed Wen Tan, he nudged his shoulder lightly.
"Junior brother, for a newcomer, you did alright today. Stay alive and wait for the allowance don't dream too big."
Wen Tan forced a smile and replied perfunctorily. Watching their figures disappear behind a line of ancient pines, he finally let his axe drop and sat heavily atop the pile of firewood, his heart hollow.
Night fell, mountain mist thickened. From afar, the sect bell tolled long and deep, reminding him that he was now in a completely unfamiliar place, with no remaining ties to his former world.
Wen Tan murmured to himself:
"I never thought I'd transmigrate to a place like this… It feels so unreal, like a dream. …Is it really real? Did I truly transmigrate?"
A cold gust swept past, carrying the scent of incense from the main hall, making him shiver. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his flesh yet he still couldn't wake from this dream.
"My parents, my friends… my job… Just this morning, I was still busy working in the city. And now… how am I supposed to go back? And how did I even end up here in the first place?"
His gaze locked onto the boundless darkness ahead, his mind circling a single thought:
"This cultivation world is full of danger and hardship. If I'm unlucky and lose my life here… And this is reality not a novel or a movie. One reckless move would be enough to get me killed a thousand times over."
His mind was utterly exhausted after a full day of backbreaking labor, work that a mortal body could scarcely endure.
In the dense darkness, a tiny spark flickered within the woodshed, unnoticed by anyone. But just as Wen Tan stood up to leave, that light seemed to condense, reflecting something strange hidden deep within the pile of firewood…