The rain was a cold, miserable drizzle that had long since soaked through the shoulders of William's flimsy delivery jacket. It was his third order of "Inferno Wings" for the night, and the greasy, spicy smell filled his helmet, mingling with the scent of damp polyester and exhaustion. His e-bike whined pitifully as he pedaled up another one of the city's unforgiving hills, the battery indicator flashing an ominous red.
"Just two more deliveries," he muttered, his breath fogging up his visor. "Two more, and that's rent."
Life, for William, was a series of transactions measured in single-digit dollar amounts. An endless cycle of app notifications, lukewarm food in a thermal bag, and anonymous doors opening just wide enough for a hand to emerge. He was a ghost haunting the city's food chain, fueled by cheap energy drinks and the constant, nagging anxiety of a bank account that perpetually hovered near zero. He navigated the sprawling city not by street names, but by the restaurants and apartment complexes that promised the best tips or the quickest drop-offs. His phone buzzed, mounted precariously on his handlebars. 'Where r u? Food's getting cold.' He sighed, thumbing a pre-set reply. 'On my way! Heavy traffic!' A lie. The only traffic was the river of rainwater trying to drag him back down the hill.
His next delivery was a familiar one: a small, ground-floor apartment on the older side of town. The occupant was Mrs. Gable, a sweet old woman who always ordered a single bowl of chicken noodle soup every rainy Thursday and always—without fail—met him at the door with a warm smile.
"William, dear! You look like a drowned rat," she said, her voice crinkling with kindness as she took the slightly damp paper bag from his hands.
"It's a bit wet out there," he chuckled, pulling his helmet off to wipe his rain-plastered hair from his forehead.
As she fumbled in her purse for a cash tip, he noticed the extra packet of oyster crackers the restaurant had thrown in by mistake. It was nothing, a five-cent item, but on impulse, he pushed it back into the bag he'd just handed her.
"They gave you an extra one," he said simply. "Enjoy the soup, Mrs. Gable."
Her smile widened. "Oh, you're a good boy, William. You be safe out there."
He pocketed her five-dollar tip—a fortune in the gig economy—and the fleeting warmth from the kind gesture carried him through his final delivery of the night. It was a brief, pleasant moment in an ocean of monotonous gray.
With the app finally offline, William was coasting down a long, empty street in a rundown industrial park, taking a shortcut home. The rain had intensified, and the pathetic beam from his e-bike's headlamp barely pierced the gloom. His mind was already on the monumental choice that awaited him: the slightly freezer-burnt pizza or the leftover takeout noodles in his fridge? That was the highlight of his day. He was thinking of nothing and everything—of Mrs. Gable's smile, the red battery light, the soul-crushing pointlessness of it all—when the sky turned a brilliant, searing white.
There was no thunder, no sound at all—just a blinding flash that seemed to come from everywhere at once. The metal frame of his e-bike vibrated violently, and a current of unimaginable power surged through him. A final, absurd thought flickered through his mind: He never expected his mediocre existence to end just like that.
Then, darkness.
The first sensation to pierce the endless dark was a deep, grinding agony that gnawed at him from the inside out. His bones felt as if they were being crushed, and his veins filled with the fire of agitated wasps. His head throbbed with a nauseating rhythm as he dragged air thick with the unfamiliar scents of strong herbal incense, old wood, and the faint, coppery smell of blood into his lungs.
Then came the memories. They slammed into his consciousness like a tidal wave, a deluge of a foreign life. Fourteen years of existence, belonging to someone else, overwrote the fading ghost of William the delivery guy.
He saw through the eyes of a child named Wei Lian, born into the prestigious Wei Clan. He felt the initial hope of his youth transform into ash the moment his spiritual roots were tested. He possessed a Five-Element root, a rare but horribly unbalanced variant. This configuration was a mark of extreme misfortune in the world of cultivation. Within him, Earth, Metal, Water, Wood, and Fire warred in a constant, chaotic sabotage. Fire evaporated his Water Qi, and Metal chopped away at his Wood Qi. This cacophony of clashing energies presented an insurmountable obstacle to his progress.
He experienced the sneers of his cousins as they soared through the early stages of cultivation while he remained stagnant. He felt the sting of his father's disappointed silence, a palpable weight in every room. He felt the burning desperation of a fourteen-year-old boy, the clan's famous "young master trash," willing to do anything to prove his worth.
The final memory was a blaze of agony. Alone in his room, Wei Lian found a forbidden and reckless manual, one that promised a breakthrough at great risk. He tried it, forcing his meager Qi through his fractured meridians. The result was a catastrophic implosion. A cultivation deviation. The warring elements in his body ripped him apart from the inside.
That was the pain he was feeling now. The ghost pains of Wei Lian's final, desperate moments. The boy was dead. And William was here. William was gone. He was Wei Lian now.
He forced his eyes open. The ceiling above was dark, heavy wood. He was lying on a hard bed in a simple, sparse room. He slowly took stock of his new body; it felt fragile and broken. Fourteen years old. He accessed the knowledge now fused with his own. His cultivation was at the first level of Body Forging.
Body Forging was the very first realm of cultivation, a stage focused on strengthening the mortal shell. It was a foundation most children of the main family completed by age ten. To be fourteen and at the first level established one's status as a cripple.
He had traded a life of quiet mediocrity for a life of spectacular, well-known failure. His time as an anonymous ghost in a city of millions was over; now, he was Wei Lian, the useless trash of the Wei Clan. A bitter, dry chuckle escaped his lips, turning into a pained cough that sent a fresh wave of agony through his chest. He was weaker, younger, and in a far more dangerous world, with a name that was synonymous with shame.
As he collapsed back onto the hard bed, his vision swimming with black spots, a sound echoed in the silent space of his mind. It was a crisp, clear tone, utterly alien to the world of cultivation.
[ DING! ]
A translucent blue screen shimmered into existence before his eyes.
[Bad start detected.]
[Gift Giving System initiated.]
Wei Lian stared, his pained mind struggling to process the sight. Hallucinations. The cultivation deviation had finally boiled his brain.
[System Name: The Sage of Hundredfold Gains]
[Objective: Become The Sage Of Hundredfold Gains]
[Core Principle: Upon gifting an item with sincere intent, the Host shall receive a return of up to one hundred times the item's value. The return may manifest as an increase in Quantity, an enhancement of Quality, or an elevation in Comprehension.]
He read the words again. A system? Like in the web novels he used to read in his past life. A flicker of something wild and unbelievable—hope—ignited in his chest. A gift-giving system. He looked around the barren room. He owned nothing but the cheap, worn clothes on his back and a body full of broken meridians.
"Give a gift..." he rasped to the empty room. "What a joke. I have nothing to give."
Just as despair began to settle back in, the wooden door to his room creaked open. A young servant girl, no older than fifteen, scurried inside. Her face was smudged with dirt and streaked with tears, her patched clothes speaking of a life of poverty within the opulent clan. She was trembling as she held out a chipped bowl of watery congee and a single, dull gray pill.
"Young Master Wei," she whispered, her eyes darting nervously towards the door as if expecting a guard to drag her away at any moment. "Please, eat something. I... I saved my monthly cultivation pill for you. It's only a low-grade Qi Gathering Pill, but it's all I have."
Wei Lian looked at the girl, whose name he now knew was Xiao Mei. She was risking a severe beating for this small act of kindness. The pill was her most valuable possession, her one chance each month to further her own meager cultivation and perhaps escape a life of servitude. A feeling of profound gratitude, pure and untainted by calculation, washed over him.
He gently pushed the pill back towards her. "You keep it, Xiao Mei. Your cultivation is more important."
As his fingers touched the pill, his mind buzzing with the genuine wish for her to have it for her own progress, the blue screen flared in his vision once more.
[Sincere gifting intent detected.]
[Target: Servant, Xiao Mei.]
[Item: Low-Grade Qi Gathering Pill (Impure).]
[Do you wish to complete the gift? Y/N]
A flicker of determination surfaced through the pain. This girl had risked a beating for him. It was a single, tiny light in a world of darkness. Internally, with a mental shove as forceful as he could manage, he focused on the 'Y'.
Simultaneously, he gently pushed the small, gray pill back into her hand.
Seeing him refuse, panic flared in Xiao Mei's eyes. She pushed his hand back, the worthless pill becoming an object of frantic negotiation. "No, Young Master! I can't let you give this back to me! You need it! You still stagnate at the first level of Body Forging!" Her voice was a desperate whisper, terrified that someone might overhear.
Her protest only solidified his resolve. This wasn't charity; it was a matter of principle. The first principle he had found in this brutal new life. He closed her small, trembling fingers around the pill with his own. His grip was weak, but his gaze was unyielding.
"No. It's your pill, Xiao Mei," he said, his voice raw but firm. "You showed me kindness. This is the only way I can repay it. Take it."
The sincerity of the loop—her giving, his refusal, her panicked insistence, his final gifting—triggered something new. The blue screen in his mind flickered, displaying new text that made his breath catch in his throat.
[Confirmation of successful gift.]
[Gift-giving loop detected. Sincerity of intent amplified.]
[Reward value is being enhanced...]
Faced with his unwavering resolve, Xiao Mei finally wilted. A tear escaped the corner of her eye, but she gave a small, jerky nod. "If you... if you must insist, Young Master. I will take it." She bowed her head, clutching the cheap pill as if it were a priceless treasure.
"Good," Wei Lian breathed, a wave of relief and exhaustion washing over him. Xiao Mei gave him one last worried look before scurrying out of the room, leaving him alone with the bowl of congee and the glowing blue screen in his mind.
[Confirmation of successful gift.]
[Gift-giving loop detected. Sincerity of intent amplified.]
[Reward value is being enhanced...]
[Calculating final reward...]
[Please select ONE of the following options:]
Two choices materialized on the screen, shimmering with an ethereal light that made his heart pound against his ribs.
[OPTION 1: 100x Medium-Grade Qi Gathering Pills (Pure)]
[OPTION 2: 1x Spirit Enhancement Pill (Pure)]
Wei Lian's breath caught. One hundred pure, medium-grade pills would be a staggering fortune, enough to make even the clan's elders green with envy. It was a mountain of resources that could fuel his cultivation for years.
But the second option... A Spirit Enhancement Pill.
His fused memories provided instant understanding. Such a thing was a legend, a mythical elixir rumored to be able to cleanse and reforge a cultivator's spiritual roots. It was a heaven-defying treasure that could fix the very source of his problem. All the Qi Gathering Pills in the world were just fuel for a broken, sputtering engine. The Spirit Enhancement Pill promised to replace that engine entirely.
It wasn't a choice. It was destiny.
Fix the root. Fix everything, he thought, his focus locking onto the second option with the ferocity of a starving wolf.
[Option 2: 1x Spirit Enhancement Pill (Pure) selected.]
[Dispensing reward.]
The air in front of him shimmered. A single pill, milky-white and radiating a soft, gentle luminescence, materialized from nothing and floated down into his waiting palm. Unlike Xiao Mei's dull gray pellet, this one felt warm to the touch and pulsed with a vibrant, life-giving energy. A profound, sacred aroma filled the room, seeming to ease the aches in his broken body just by its presence.
He stared at the perfect, luminous orb in his hand. The pain from his cultivation deviation was still a grinding agony, but for the first time, it felt like a temporary problem. In his hand, he held the key. The future was no longer an endless pit of shame and mediocrity. It was a blank page, and he finally had the pen.
Without a moment's hesitation, Wei Lian tossed the Spirit Enhancement Pill into his mouth and swallowed.
There was no violent burst of energy. Instead, a smooth, cool feeling erupted not in his stomach, but deep within his core, at the very source of his being. It was a cleansing balm quenching a raging inferno. The constant, grinding conflict that had defined his spiritual root since birth was being pacified.
He could feel it—the chaotic, warring elements within him suddenly went silent. Then, in the stillness, a perfect, harmonious cycle bloomed into existence. Wood essence flowed smoothly, nourishing a vibrant Fire. The Fire burned cleanly, leaving behind rich Earth. Deep within the Earth, Metal began to coalesce, and its surface drew forth pristine Water, which in turn nourished the Wood, completing the grand, eternal loop.
His "trash" root was gone, replaced by a Perfect Five-Element Spirit Root. Amazing!
The knowledge from Wei Lian's memories screamed at him to act. He instinctively sat cross-legged on the hard bed and began to cycle his Qi according to the most basic Wei clan technique. Where before the process was like grinding broken glass through his meridians, it was now a serene, powerful river. The destructive path had become a constructive one.
The harmonious Qi, now dozens of times more potent and efficient, surged through his body. It met the bottleneck of the first level of Body Forging, a barrier that had held him captive for years, and washed over it as if it were a mere pebble in a flood.
A distinct crack echoed within him, a sound of shackles breaking.
The grinding pain from the cultivation deviation vanished completely, replaced by a feeling of vitality and strength he had never known. He felt the impurities in his muscles and bones being subtly tempered and expelled. His limbs felt packed with newfound power.
A wide, unrestrained grin spread across Wei Lian's face as he opened his eyes, which now gleamed with a clarity they lacked before.
He was at the second level of Body Forging.