Night draped itself over the Li household like a worn quilt, thin but familiar.
Crickets chirped. The oil lamp in Li Yanxu's room flickered once, then went out, surrendering to darkness. He lay sprawled on his bed in the posture of someone who had given up on dignity long ago—one leg hanging off the side, hair fanned across the pillow like a tragic poet.
He slept.
Deeply.
Dangerously.
And, most importantly—
Unconsciously.
The moment his breathing evened out, his awareness slipped.
Not gently.
Not poetically.
It fell.
—whoosh—
Li Yanxu found himself standing in that familiar, endless void.
He froze.
"Oh," he said blankly. "Not again."
The space was no longer empty.
The massive door that had haunted him since childhood now stood wide open, its ancient locks shattered like cheap porcelain. Golden light poured out, illuminating everything in blinding brilliance.
Li Yanxu squinted.
Then squinted harder.
Then rubbed his eyes.
Then slapped his own face.
"Ow."
So this wasn't a dream.
"…Damn it."
Before him stretched a world that would have made any cultivator weep blood in joy.
Floating jade platforms stacked upon each other like lazy clouds. Endless shelves of glowing scrolls arranged with obsessive neatness. Pill bottles stacked higher than mountains, each one emanating terrifying medicinal pressure.
Swords.
Thousands of them.
Hovering midair, humming softly, sharp enough to cut causality itself.
Bows carved from ancient divine trees.
Formation diagrams spinning slowly like stars.
Cauldrons larger than houses.
Spirit stones.
So many spirit stones.
Piles upon piles, glittering like someone had robbed the heavens and dumped the loot here without bothering to count.
Li Yanxu stared.
Silently.
For a very long time.
"…Wow," he said at last.
Any normal transmigrated protagonist would have fallen to their knees.
Cried.
Laughed madly.
Sworn vengeance against the heavens.
Shouted something like "From today onward, I defy fate!"
Li Yanxu did none of that.
He yawned.
"Ah… so noisy."
He wandered forward lazily, hands clasped behind his back like an old man strolling through a market.
He passed a shelf labeled:
Divine Grade Cultivation Manual — Heaven Splitting Dao
Next to it:
Supreme Yin-Yang Harmonization Art (Guaranteed Ascension)
Then:
Ninefold Rebirth Scripture
Eternal Void Body Refinement Method
One Thought, One World Sword Dao
Li Yanxu glanced at them.
"Too much reading," he muttered.
He kicked a random spirit stone pile.
It clinked.
"Too shiny."
He peered into a cauldron.
A phoenix-shaped flame stirred inside, sensing his presence and bowing respectfully.
Li Yanxu shut the lid.
"Too hot."
He reached the center of the space, where the air itself seemed heavier.
There, floating in the sky, were massive golden words, each stroke carved with authority that made the soul tremble.
They pulsed.
They radiated.
They commanded.
TO OPEN THE WAY OF ASCENSION
The words echoed endlessly, layered upon layered, as if countless ancient beings were chanting them across time.
The void trembled.
The treasures hummed.
The manuals fluttered as though eager to be chosen.
Any cultivator—anyone—would understand.
This was not just inheritance.
This was a mandate.
The heavens themselves had shoved the answer sheet into his hands and said:
Go. Ascend. Become legend.
Li Yanxu looked up at the words.
He tilted his head.
He smiled.
A very gentle smile.
Then he raised his hand.
And extended his middle finger.
"Sorry," he said cheerfully. "Not interested."
The entire space fell silent.
The swords froze mid-hum.
The formations stopped spinning.
Even the golden words flickered, as if buffering.
Li Yanxu turned around without a shred of hesitation.
"Cultivation requires effort," he continued conversationally, as though explaining himself to a confused shopkeeper. "Effort requires waking up early. Early mornings lead to bad moods."
He waved dismissively.
"Bad moods shorten lifespan."
He walked toward the edge of the space.
"Also, ascension sounds exhausting. Immortality? Tribulations? Heavenly lightning? Do you know how much paperwork immortals probably have?"
Behind him, a divine-grade manual trembled violently, as if screaming FOOL.
Li Yanxu did not look back.
"Besides," he added thoughtfully, "I already have a career."
He stepped forward.
The space dissolved.
—thump—
Li Yanxu jolted awake in his bed.
The familiar creak of old wood. The faint scent of ink. The distant sound of Li Yanya scolding Song Zhi for drawing on the wall.
Morning had not yet come.
Moonlight spilled softly through the window.
Li Yanxu blinked.
"…Huh."
He stared at the ceiling.
Then rolled over.
Adjusted his pillow.
Pulled the blanket up.
"Must've been a dream," he muttered sleepily.
Deep within his spirit—
The divine space erupted into chaos.
Swords clanged.
Scrolls burst open.
The golden words blazed brighter than ever.
CHOSEN ONE—
The words cracked.
A new line attempted to form.
Li Yanxu turned in his sleep.
Snored.
The space went quiet again.
Waiting.
Patiently.
Very, very patiently.
--
-
For the next three years, Li Yanxu's life followed a very strict routine.
Wake up late.
Eat.
Write novels.
Sleep.
Dream.
Wake up more tired than before.
Repeat.
The problem lay entirely in the dream part.
At first, Li Yanxu thought it was coincidence.
After all, everyone had recurring dreams sometimes. Falling off cliffs. Forgetting clothes in public. Being chased by angry chickens wielding knives. Very normal things.
But his dream was… consistent.
Too consistent.
Every single night, without fail, he would fall asleep and wake up standing inside that vast spiritual space.
The gate was open.
The treasures were there.
And they were multiplying.
Year one: impressive but manageable.
Year two: concerning.
Year three: ridiculous.
By the third year, the spirit stones had piled up into what could only be described as a mountain range. Entire rivers of liquid spiritual essence flowed lazily through the space. Divine weapons reproduced like rabbits. Manuals stacked themselves neatly without being told.
Once, Li Yanxu even saw a treasure tree sprout overnight, its branches growing pills instead of fruit.
He stared at it for a long time.
"…This is harassment," he said solemnly.
The spirit space did not respond.
Instead, it added another shelf of divine-grade manuals.
The dreams became so frequent, so detailed, and so persistent that Li Yanxu started sleeping more just to escape them—which, unfortunately, only made the situation worse.
"You're sleeping again?" Li Yanya demanded one afternoon, hands on hips.
"I'm being haunted," Li Yanxu replied weakly, pulling the blanket over his head.
By the time he was twenty-five, the Li household had officially accepted that their youngest sibling slept more than the village cats.
And Li Yanxu had officially accepted that the spirit space was not going to leave him alone.
Three years.
Three years of silent pressure.
No lightning.
No threats.
No dramatic heavenly voices screaming CHOSEN ONE.
Just… more stuff.
It was deeply unsettling.
Finally, one night, Li Yanxu cracked.
He stood in the center of the spirit space, arms crossed, eye twitching.
"Alright," he said loudly. "Fine. You win."
The space trembled.
The golden words that hovered eternally above everything shimmered with excitement, rearranging themselves eagerly.
Li Yanxu raised a finger. "Before you start. I have one question."
The words paused.
"…Why me?"
The space went quiet.
Then, slowly, new words appeared in the sky—less commanding, more explanatory.
You carry the blessings of another world.
Li Yanxu frowned. "That's vague."
Your soul crossed realms intact. That alone is a miracle.
"…So I tripped in a bathroom and became special?"
Additionally, the Heavenly Dao of this world favors you.
Li Yanxu stared. "Why?"
Because you are lazy.
"…Excuse me?"
You do not seek power. You do not covet domination. You do not attempt to overturn fate.
The words pulsed gently.
Thus, you will not abuse it.
Li Yanxu opened his mouth.
Closed it.
"…That is the rudest compliment I've ever received."
The words continued.
With these blessings, you can protect this world.
Images flickered before his eyes—cracked skies, shattered mountains, cultivators bleeding beneath collapsing heavens.
The road of ascension is blocked.
Li Yanxu's brows furrowed.
If reopened, cultivators may ascend to higher worlds. True Immortals may be born once more.
Silence stretched.
Li Yanxu rubbed his temples. "That sounds like a lot of responsibility."
It is.
"I don't like responsibility."
We noticed.
Li Yanxu sighed deeply.
He was twenty-five now. Not young, not particularly wise, but very, very tired.
He imagined endless cultivation. Endless breakthroughs. Endless tribulations.
Then he imagined his current life.
Writing novels.
Earning silver.
Sleeping whenever he wanted.
He shook his head. "No."
The golden words flickered.
Your siblings may also grow strong.
Li Yanxu froze.
"…Define strong."
Strong enough to protect themselves. Strong enough to never be bullied again.
Li Yanxu's mind immediately betrayed him.
Li Yanya—but stronger.
Li Yanya—but with cultivation.
Li Yanya—but capable of splitting mountains.
He shivered violently.
"No," he said firmly. "Absolutely not. The world is not ready for that."
The words paused.
Then… they changed.
The golden glow dimmed.
The majestic font softened.
New words appeared, small and unassuming.
We can tell you secrets.
Li Yanxu blinked. "Secrets?"
Gossip.
"…Gossip?"
Of important people.
The space waited.
Li Yanxu's heartbeat quickened.
"…What kind of gossip?"
The words rearranged themselves eagerly, as if this were their true purpose all along.
The Immortal Sect's Grand Elder dyes his beard.
Li Yanxu's eyes widened.
The Sword Sovereign once cried over a duck.
"…No way."
The Pure Yang Palace's Sect Master is afraid of geese.
Li Yanxu gasped.
This—
This was—
He clutched his chest.
"…Are these verified?"
Absolutely.
His breathing grew rapid.
Real gossip.
Cultivation world gossip.
Do you know how valuable that was?
Do you know how many readers would pay silver for true stories instead of speculation?
His mind exploded with possibilities.
The Cold Immortal Lord's Secret Love.
The Sect Master Who Feared Poultry.
I Accidentally Overheard the Heavenly Dao Talking Trash.
He straightened, expression solemn.
"If I agree," he said carefully, "do I have to cultivate?"
…Eventually.
Li Yanxu squinted. "Define eventually."
Not today.
"Acceptable."
"And I can still sleep?"
Yes.
"And write novels?"
Preferably.
Li Yanxu extended his hand.
"Deal."
The golden words flashed brilliantly, triumphant.
The spirit space hummed with satisfaction.
Far away, the Heavenly Dao sneezed.
Li Yanxu smiled for the first time.
"…This might actually be fun."
Somewhere in the distance, fate groaned quietly.
It had finally succeeded.
But unfortunately for it—
The chosen one planned to become a professional gossip novelist first.