Chapter 1 – I’ve Transmigrated Again!

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

Behind Moonwatch Peak of the Canglin Sect, dark clouds gathered, thunder rolling endlessly.

Bolts of lightning from the increasingly fierce tribulation struck Fang Yu’s body. She struggled to endure, a sense of dread rising in her heart. Before she had time to prepare for the next strike, she saw a massive bolt of lightning condense within the clouds above and descend upon her with vicious force. In the next instant, her consciousness went dark.

…

“When will your family be able to pay the tax silver?”

“Cough, cough… R-replying… replying to Lord Officer, h-half a month, w-would that do? Cough, cough…”

“You old man talk as if it’s nothing—half a month? Ten days! If you don’t pay within ten days, the men will be sent to the army, and the women to the frontier as military wives!”

“Ten days? Ten days is too short, Lord Officer. My daughter and I are both ill. Couldn’t you grant us a few more days of grace?”

“Don’t push your luck, old man! Say another word and you’ll taste my whip!”

“Don’t waste time on him. When the deadline comes and they haven’t paid, we’ll just take them away!”

“You’re right. Let’s go—on to the next household!”

…

In the darkness, Fang Yu heard the voices of two or three people.

The younger man’s tone was forceful and menacing, while the older one begged pitifully.

Huh?

With effort, she opened her eyes. What met her gaze was a cracked wall corner above her head, covered with a huge spider web. Tilting her head slightly, she saw sunlight piercing through the wooden window lattice, casting mottled shadows across the uneven ground.

“Where… is this?”

“Did she succeed in her tribulation? But she clearly remembered that last bolt of lightning—it carried the power to destroy heaven and earth. That didn’t feel like success at all!”

“Hiss…”

Suddenly, a splitting pain seared through her skull as a flood of foreign memories surged into her mind. The more she “saw,” the more familiar this pattern became.

I’ve transmigrated again?

Why again? Because this was her second time transmigrating. The routine, the process—it was all too familiar now.

According to the original body’s memories, this was Qingzhou County of Guang’an Prefecture in the Dayun Dynasty. The body’s original owner was a village girl from Willow Tree Village with the same name as her. Her mother had died of illness when she was ten, leaving her to grow up dependent on her frail father. He had once been a scholar, knowing a few characters, and was deeply devoted to his wife. She had been their only child.

The family survived on two thin acres of farmland. If the weather was favorable, they could barely scrape by. Unfortunately, this year Qingzhou suffered a severe drought, and the fields yielded nothing. While digging for tree roots in the mountains, the original owner had been startled by something—what exactly, no one knew. She returned home with a high fever, which gave Fang Yu the opportunity to take over this body.

Looking at this hell-level starting point, Fang Yu couldn’t help but recall her previous life. Back then, she had also transmigrated into the body of a peasant girl—though with better luck, she managed to enter Canglin Sect and became a wood-spirit-root cultivator. Determined not to let fate control her, she cut ties with worldly matters and secluded herself on Moonwatch Peak, cultivating for a hundred years. Eventually, she glimpsed a sliver of heavenly opportunity—a chance to break through and ascend.

But something went wrong. Her tribulation turned into the Nine Heavens Lightning Tribulation. The moment her spirit wavered, she was reduced to ashes, everything annihilated—only to awaken like this.

Having gone through it once before—and perhaps thanks to a cultivator’s habit of adapting to the flow of fate—she quickly accepted the fact that she had transmigrated once again.

As for the life before she transmigrated into the cultivation world—she had just been a lowly web novelist. One night, after staying up late writing, she suddenly dropped dead. Who knew why the transmigration gift package had landed on her head?

From experience, she knew too much talk was pointless. Best to go with the flow.

“Daughter, you’re awake!”

Just as she was sorting out her thoughts, she saw a thin, sickly yet handsome middle-aged man looking at her with overwhelming relief.

It only took Fang Yu two seconds to accept this man as her father. Cultivation emphasized cause and effect—since she had borrowed his daughter’s body, it was only right that she show him filial piety in return.

“Wuwuwu… my good daughter, you nearly scared your father to death! Are you… are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Uh…

Seems like this father was a bit overly emotional.

“I’m fine, Dad… Dad, don’t cry!”

“Wuwuwu… I can’t help it! When I heard the doctor say you’d lost your mind, I was frightened half to death… wuwuwu…”

Fang Yu’s head throbbed. Honestly, she hadn’t been surrounded by such noisy voices in over a hundred years, and for a moment she couldn’t quite adjust.

She wanted him to quiet down, but seeing that handsome face streaked with tears, she didn’t have the heart to say anything too harsh. She was afraid he’d cry even more.

“Dad, could you get me some water? I’m thirsty…”

“Thirsty, are you? Then wait right here—Dad will boil some water for you! Just wait a moment…” He dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve, forced a flattering smile, then swung his empty sleeves and hurried out of the room.

Hearing the clattering sounds in the distance, her tense mood finally eased. She began to think over what to do next.

A single glance at this household made it clear their situation was dire.

That wasn’t a dream just now—it was a tax collector, wasn’t it?

Ten days’ time. Five taels of silver for taxes. Even if she tried to rob someone, that was enough to make her break out in a cold sweat.

“Bare bones” would be an understatement to describe this house. Besides the bed she was lying on and a small wooden chest in the corner, there wasn’t a single piece of furniture.

From the original body’s memory, the outside wasn’t any better.

Since last winter, Qingzhou hadn’t seen a single drop of rain. Early this year, the weather had already turned abnormal, scorchingly hot.

The crops in the fields yielded nothing, and even the vegetation on the mountains had dried and withered in swathes.

The villagers, desperate for food, had dug up nearly every patch of earth around the nearby mountains. Any root that could be eaten was dug up and boiled.

The Fang family had only father and daughter. Neither of them were skilled at farming, so their harvests in previous years had long been eaten up. They were barely surviving by foraging tree roots and stripping leaves from the mountains.

Now, life was on the brink of collapse. Meanwhile, government taxes only grew heavier. They claimed the south and north were both unstable—the northern tribes invaded the borders again and again, while rebellions erupted in the south. The people were crushed beneath ever-increasing levies and corvée.

Fang Yu shook her head. She had transmigrated into the worst possible time—tyrannical officials, rebellions, and natural disasters. All signs pointed to the Dayun Dynasty nearing its end. Thinking of the cruelty of ancient wars, her heart grew heavier still.

Stepping outside, the blazing summer sun scorched overhead. Though it was midsummer, everything in sight was nothing but withered yellow.

She casually plucked a handful of foxtail grass. The leaves crumbled into dry fragments in her hand. In the courtyard, the brown earth had split into deep cracks, web-like across the ground.

The air shimmered with oppressive heat, burning the land. Insects droned endlessly, the hot mountain wind carried no trace of coolness.

In such an environment, she focused her mind and silently recited a familiar cultivation mantra. After straining for half a day, only a faint trickle of spiritual energy sluggishly drifted toward her.

Fang Yu finally let out a breath of relief. As long as I can still cultivate, it’s fine.

Who was it that claimed ancient times were brimming with vegetation and overflowing with spiritual energy?

From just that brief attempt, she could sense the air held not only spiritual energy but also resentment, baleful energy, and other impurities harmful to cultivation.

Far from abundant, the sparse spiritual energy couldn’t even be absorbed directly. It had to be purified first before it could be used.

This process would inevitably be slow. Without a safe environment, she wouldn’t dare enter deep meditation lightly, for fear of going astray and suffering qi deviation.

Her spiritual root was of the wood attribute; the lusher the vegetation, the more at ease she felt. But in this environment, she was distinctly uncomfortable. If not for her strong self-control, her mood might have been affected enough to cause physical discomfort.

Still, perhaps thanks to that trace of spiritual energy, her body already felt much lighter.

She turned back into the shabby hut, ready to think about how to earn some money.

Only then did she recall—her family still owed Aunt Xu from the village one tael of silver. That had been borrowed just days ago when her father fell ill and needed medicine. In her view, debts to the officials could be delayed, but debts to neighbors must not go unpaid.

Also… was it her imagination, or had transmigration left her body even weaker? She felt unbearably hungry.

But what food could there be in a household that had been reduced to eating tree roots?

“Here, here, daughter—drink some water first. Father will go borrow a handful of rice from Aunt Xu to make porridge for you, so you can recover your strength!”

Face smeared with soot, Fang Fusheng handed her a bowl of water, then turned and hurried out before Fang Yu could even call after him.

Suppressing the unpleasant taste, she drank a little of the hot water to soothe herself, but didn’t chase after him.

In her mind, instead of relying on others, it was better to think of her own solution. At times like this, grain was more precious than gold. Even if you asked to borrow, there was no guarantee you’d get any.

And as expected, before long, her father came back with a face full of dirt and tears, sobbing that no one would lend them food.

Fang Yu had never seen a man who cried as much as her father. His weeping grated on her nerves, yet she couldn’t truly get angry. All she could do was coax him into the kitchen to boil another pot of water while she thought of a plan.

Watching her father leave, Fang Yu suddenly had the ominous feeling that her century of calm cultivation would one day be undone by his endless crying.

Turning back, she began searching through the house. If she remembered right, there should be something good hidden here…