Lan Yan found that something was seriously wrong with her surroundings.
She was lying on a cold jade bed, dressed in pale blue robes embroidered with floral patterns. Her hair was long, smooth, and pinned up with a jade clasp. Her hands—slender, fair, soft like polished porcelain—were pressed together in a meditation pose.
…But wait. Last night she had been editing a late-night YouTube vlog in her cramped rented apartment, running on instant noodles and two hours of sleep. She remembered collapsing face-first onto the keyboard and—what?—waking up here?!
Lan Yan stared at her delicate fingers. These definitely weren't hers. Her nails had never been this neat in her life, and the faint fragrance of sandalwood clung to her sleeves.
Knock, knock, knock.
Her whole body jolted. The sound came from the wooden door at the far end of the room. She swallowed hard, scrambled to her feet, and after three deep breaths (that did absolutely nothing to calm her down), she went to open it.
Outside stood a man in green robes, tall and refined, his hair tied with a simple cord. His features were sharp, his bearing calm, and his tone even gentler than his appearance.
"Junior Sister, Master has summoned you to the Plum Mist Courtyard."
Lan Yan blinked.
…Junior Sister? Master? Plum Mist Courtyard?
Was this a prank show? Where were the cameras? Did she become an actress overnight?
"Uh… Senior Brother?" she tried cautiously.
The man smiled, warm as spring wind. "No need to be distant, but junior sister, you caused really big trouble this time. Sect Master is furious."
Lan Yan's mind spun. Big trouble? Me? I was literally eating instant noodles twelve hours ago!
She stepped back instinctively. This was insane. Absolutely insane.
Okay. Let's review. Antique robes. Mysterious titles. Randomly being summoned. People calling her someone she wasn't. This could only mean one thing—she had transmigrated.
Not into a historical drama or a princess fantasy, but into a cultivation world.
Where was the beginner's guide? Where were the cheat panels, the golden finger system, the "Welcome to your new life" notification?! She was going to be exposed! She was going to die!
Lingxue, her Senior Brother, tilted his head. "Junior Sister, hurry up. Master is waiting for you."
He was about to leave when Lan Yan panicked. "Wait—Senior Brother, could you… take me there?"
If she went alone, she'd probably get lost before she even made it out the gate. But why was she going there at all if she'd caused trouble?
He raised no suspicion at all. With an easy nod, he said, "Very well, follow me."
As they walked through winding corridors, disciples in similar green robes greeted them politely. Some addressed her as Junior Sister Lan, others as Senior Sister Lan. She smiled back stiffly, her brain in full overdrive.
Lingxue kept talking lightly about cultivation matters she didn't understand in the slightest. Lan Yan just nodded at random intervals, praying he wouldn't suddenly quiz her.
At last, they arrived at a serene bamboo grove. Mist drifted between the tall stalks, and a faint zither melody carried on the wind. Her Senior Brother stopped and gestured.
"Junior Sister, Master awaits within. Go in alone."
Then, with a dramatic swish of his sleeves, he disappeared down another path.
Oh!! That's the legendary vanishing magic I'd always seen in Xianxia dramas. I didn't know I'd see it in person one day!
Lan Yan's legs were jelly, but she forced herself to continue along the narrow trail. She passed through several arched bamboo gates until she reached a small courtyard where a bamboo pavilion stood.
Before she could hesitate, a voice came from inside:
"Disciple Lan, why do you tarry? Come in."
Lan Yan swallowed. Alright. So her new name was Lan Something. Good to know.
She stepped in cautiously. A man sat within, no older than his mid-twenties, dressed in snow-white robes. His face was youthful, refined, yet carried a calm that seemed far beyond his years.
"Master…" she forced out, bowing awkwardly.
Ling Mingzhao, The sect master didn't smile. "You have been under my guidance for some months now, yet you still act clumsy and cause trouble. I told you before—you are like my own daughter. There is no need for distance, but that doesn't mean you can break the Spirit Cauldron."
Lan Yan: "…"
Excuse me? You look younger than me, and you want me to call you father?!
And the original owner of this body sure was a troublemaker. I have no idea what the Spirit Cauldron is, but it sounds important—and I think she broke it. Oh God! Please get me out of this world.
"I–" Her voice caught, unsure, yet her lips moved on their own, as if some instinct buried in this body guided her.
"You nearly destroyed a month's worth of cultivation elixirs," the sect master said, his tone low and dangerous. "Do you think the sect exists for you to play your childish games?"
Her heart pounded. She didn't even know what she had done, yet this body's past mistakes were now hers to bear.
The sect master's sleeve flicked, and a wave of spiritual pressure crashed against her. She dropped to her knees, trembling under the weight.
"You will spend the next month in the Cold Abyss, reflecting on your actions. If you repeat this offense, even the heavens will not protect you."
Lan Yan's mind went blank. Cold Abyss? Month-long punishment? And all because of something she had no clue about?
Great. I'm officially doomed.
She opened her mouth. "Wait, Master, I—"
The spiritual pressure crushed her words back into her throat. She grit her teeth, trembling, but still managed a weak protest. "I-I didn't… I didn't do it on purpose!"
Her modern brain screamed: Are you insane?! This is exactly how people die in dramas! But her lips moved anyway. "Master, maybe there's some misunderstanding—"
Another wave of pressure slammed down. She collapsed fully to her knees, palms against the polished wood, but her eyes flicked upward. She wasn't crying yet.
No way. I'm not dying in some weird Cold Abyss dungeon. I'll get out. I'll get out somehow.
She forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Yes, Master. I'll… reflect."
Inside, though, she was already planning. The moment I'm out of your sight, I'm running far, far away. Cultivate? No way…
Lan Yan barely had time to process before two junior disciples in green robes stepped forward. "Disciple Lan, follow us," one said, his tone neutral but firm.
Lan Yan stumbled to her feet, knees weak, and followed them down a narrow stone staircase that spiraled deep into the mountain. The temperature dropped sharply with every step, and her breath came out in little clouds. Mist curled along the edges of the stairs like ghostly fingers.
"What kind of place is this?" she muttered under her breath.
A heavy iron grate slammed shut behind them. The sound echoed like a verdict.
Lan Yan's stomach dropped. The two disciples didn't speak. They only pointed to the pool and stepped back.
"This is the Cold Abyss," one said softly, as if reciting a lesson. "You'll stay on the far ledge. No fire, no food deliveries. Meditation and copying the Sect Rules until your month is up."
He turned and left. The other locked the grate from the outside and clicked the bolt. Footsteps faded.
Lan Yan staggered a few steps into the freezing cavern, her teeth chattering, then suddenly threw her hands up.
"Oh my god! If I had WiFi and a phone right now, I could totally blog this."
"Titled: Trapped in a Cultivation Sect's Ice Dungeon for 30 Days Challenge. Millions of views, guaranteed!"
Her grin froze the next second when her stomach let out a growl that echoed through the cave.
"…But alas," she clutched her belly miserably, "I can't even eat here. Was the original owner actually planning to starve me to death? Curse you, Lan—you fool! You just had to leave me with so much trouble."
She spun toward the corner, spotted the damp straw, and gasped like she had discovered a crime scene.
"They didn't even give me a bed? How do you expect me to sleep on… that?"
Lan Yan crouched down, poked the straw, then recoiled as if it bit her. "This isn't even IKEA starter kit quality! What kind of prison service is this?"
She flopped on the ground, covering her face with both hands. "Gods, just strike me down. Or at least give me a blanket."
CRACK!
Thunder roared as if the heavens took her literally. Lan Yan yelped, stumbling back, her hair standing on end. "God! Please stop playing with this little creation of yours!!"
Her eyes darted around, then—accidentally landed on the lake.
The surface shimmered from the lightning's reflection, and she froze. Her own face stared back…but softer, glowing, impossibly flawless. Not a starving girl with straw for a bed, but a fairy, the most beautiful fairy.
Lan Yan leaned closer to the lake. "Wait… that's me? No, no, impossible. Did the heavens accidentally swap my face with a goddess's?"
She pinched her cheek hard. "Ow! It is me—aiyaa, since when did this beggar turn into a fairy?"
Lan Yan sat back on her heels, staring at her perfect fairy reflection in the lake. For a few heartbeats she just blinked at herself, then slapped her own cheeks. "Wake up, You are not dying in an ice cave like a forgotten side character in someone else's drama."
Her breath fogged the air. Her fingers were numb. Her stomach had stopped growling and moved on to sulking.
"Okay," she muttered.
"I refuse to die here."
"With a face like this, I could charm someone respectable and live a life of luxury doing absolutely nothing. Hehe."
She stood up, dramatically brushing off her robes. Then she promptly slipped on a patch of ice and landed flat on her back.
"…This is going to be harder than I thought."
She pressed her cheek against the cold stone, eyes fixed on the only light in this freezing cavern. A narrow slit in the ceiling let in the moonlight.
"That's it!" Her heart leapt. "If dramas have taught me anything, light always means salvation."
Lan Yan scrambled onto a boulder, clutching at jagged rocks. Her foot slipped, she tumbled down, and landed in a very un-immortal-like heap.
"Oww! Okay…"
She tried again. And again. Each time she clawed toward the moonlight, the stone crumbled under her fingers, or her sleeve snagged, or she slid right back down. After her fourth crash landing, she was sprawled on her back, panting, hair in disarray.
Then—
Ssshhhhehehss…
Lan Yan froze. The sound was soft, almost mocking but it didn't belong to her. She sat up slowly, eyes darting around. "Who's there?"
The laugh came again, closer this time. Then—
The quiet was broken by a soft hiss.
A small black snake slid out from the shadows near the pool. Its body was no thicker than her wrist, and its eyes glowed red like burning coals.
"What the hell?..A snake?" Lan Yan gasped.
She jumped back, almost tripping over her robe. Her hands flew up, and she pressed herself against the cold wall like she could disappear into it. Her eyes darted between the snake and the moonlight above, her breathing fast and shaky.
"Stay back! Don't you dare come any closer." she shouted, grabbing a twig from the ground and holding it like a sword. Her chin lifted as if she was brave, but her legs were shaking with every step she took backward.
The snake paused, head tilted, as if amused. Its tongue flickered in and out before it spoke in a low, drawling tone.
"You're not very good at escaping, are you…sssssh?"
Lan Yan froze, eyes widening. "You… you talk?"
Then she blinked hard, muttering under her breath, Well, duh. Why am I even surprised? I've already seen immortals, flying swords, and myself with this beautiful face. What's one more talking snake?
The snake tilted its narrow head. Of course it talked. For a hundred years, words were all it had left. Sealed in this cold abyss, stripped of its sky, stripped of its path home to the Demon Realm… and all because it had been unlucky enough to fly across this sect's skies while their disciples practiced sealing arts. One moment soaring through the clouds, the next—bam. Hit by an unsteady spell, dragged into the pit and locked away.
For a century, no one had ever been sent here. No one to even see it.Until now.
The serpent studied the girl with those ember eyes. Her hands were trembling, not with power but with cold and panic. So weak… and yet, she is the only one. The only disciple it's seen in a hundred years.
Its coils shifted faintly, a ripple through the frost. A sigh, almost human, carried in its voice.
"So the Plum Mist Sect still remembers this place. Or… was it only misfortune that brought you here, little disciple?"
Lan Yan keeps holding her useless twig like a weapon. The serpent sighs,
"I didn't do anything…and of course you wouldn't understand.."
"Put that stick down before you hurt yourself. If I wanted to eat you, you'd already be gone…hssiss… Now… Do you want to escape or not…sssh?"
"What do you mean? Black serpent?"