It was early spring, and the Qingyun Ferry was packed with people.

This place was the largest ferry port connecting the mortal world to the cultivation world. Soon, the Lingxiang Sect—one of the largest sects in the cultivation world—would open its gates to recruit disciples. Many were eager to bring their children, who had been tested to have spiritual roots and were of the appropriate age, to Shuixun City, where the sect was located.

A middle-aged man squeezed his way back through the crowd to his wife and daughter, drenched in sweat and worried: “I asked around just now. Too many people are heading to Shuixun City during this time, and there are no tickets left.”

“The ferry is about to depart. If we go back home now to get the tickets we left behind, we probably won’t make it.” The woman frowned, poked her daughter’s forehead, and scolded: “This is such an important matter—how could you forget to check your luggage one more time before leaving?”

The girl covered her forehead, aggrieved, and mumbled: “You kept rushing me… I didn’t have time to check.”

While the family was at a loss, a clear, crisp voice suddenly spoke behind them:

“Excuse me, are you looking for a ticket to Shuixun City?”

The three of them turned around in response.

The speaker was a boy of about sixteen or seventeen. He was tall and slender, with fair skin and sharp, delicate features—a sort of cold, striking beauty.

The only thing that slightly disrupted his aura was the slightly curled fringe on his forehead, as if it had been singed by fire.

He seemed to be a sword cultivator, carrying a bundle on his back and a simple spirit sword in his hand.

The girl couldn’t help but glance at him a few more times, then shyly grabbed the corner of her father’s clothes and hid behind him.

The man didn’t notice his daughter’s reaction. Anxious to resolve the problem, he responded immediately: “Yes, yes! We’re looking for a ticket to Shuixun City. If you’re willing to sell yours, we can pay extra!”

Hearing that, the woman shot him a look, then quickly smiled at the boy and added cautiously: “…As long as it’s not too much extra, that’s fine.”

The boy didn’t care about such details and simply said: “Original price will do.”

The family was overjoyed and eagerly paid for the ticket.

After completing the transaction, the boy gave them a small nod and turned to walk away with his bundle into the crowd.

The girl couldn’t help but glance back at him once more.

As her mother pulled her toward the ferry, she muttered in frustration: “…We should’ve asked his name.”

Such a good-looking person—there might not be a second chance to meet someone like that.

…

Chu Xinghui sold his ticket but didn’t leave Qingyun Ferry right away.

He hadn’t yet decided where to go next.

Going back was out of the question. He had tested with excellent aptitude, and this trip was meant to be his journey into the cultivation world. Giving up just because he didn’t want to go to the Lingxiang Sect was not an option.

Chu Xinghui thought for a moment, pulled out a copper coin, and gently tossed it into the air.

Heads—go south. Tails—go north.

With a soft “ding,” the coin hit the ground. It landed tails up.

He put the coin away and looked north.

What he saw was the bustling Qingyun Ferry. Beyond the crowd were stretches of mountains, layered in mist and fog—everything in the distance was hazy and unclear.

—Then north it was.

Having made his decision, Chu Xinghui turned and walked toward another ferry.

Most people at the ferry were heading to Shuixun City, so this area was nearly deserted. The old man selling tickets was napping with his eyes half-closed.

Chu Xinghui bent down and knocked lightly on the table.

The old man lifted his eyelids and glanced at him: “The ferry to Shuixun City is over there,” he reminded.

With the Lingxiang Sect recruiting soon, most young cultivators were heading that way.

Chu Xinghui shook his head: “Sir, I’m not going to Shuixun City. Where does your ferry go?”

“Beiyue,” the old man replied.

Beiyue… wasn’t a bad choice.

So Chu Xinghui asked: “Alright. Do you still have tickets for this trip?”

The old man clicked his tongue: “Beiyue hasn’t been peaceful lately.”

Chu Xinghui shook his head: “It’s fine. I’m just going to the city to look for work.”

Seeing that, the old man didn’t ask more questions. He pulled a ticket from a drawer and handed it to Chu Xinghui, muttering: “This isn’t a Shuixun City ferry. Of course I’ve got plenty of spare tickets.”

*

Chu Xinghui took the ticket and boarded the ferry.

The old man waited outside for a long time but saw hardly any passengers. Seeing that it was almost time, he packed up and slowly made his way aboard.

The ferry soon set sail.

At this time of year, few people traveled from the mortal world to Beiyue. The passenger cabin was half-empty, with many unoccupied seats.

Chu Xinghui found a quiet, isolated corner and sat down to reflect on the day’s unexpected events.

The situation was simple: He had been struck by lightning on the way to Qingyun Ferry.

Literally struck by lightning.

In broad daylight, the lightning bolt had shot straight at his head. After being hit, a book appeared in his mind.

According to the book, he would soon become a disciple of the Lingxiang Sect—and during the initiation ceremony, it would be discovered that he was actually the long-lost eldest son of the sect master.

At first glance, this might have seemed like a happy ending. But unfortunately, the sect master and his wife already had a new pair of twin children—famous young geniuses. They were dissatisfied with this long-lost son who had been raised outside the cultivation world and behaved crudely. They reluctantly kept him only out of blood ties. The family continued pouring all their resources into the protagonists, while Chu Xinghui was treated coldly after being recognized. His parents disliked him, his siblings ignored him, and even the elder who had wanted to take him as a disciple was persuaded by his own father to focus on the protagonist. His cultivation was thus delayed.

Just when he was alone and helpless, the sect master’s beloved disciple—also the protagonist of the book, Qin Yuwen—gave him a piece of candy out of pity.

From that moment, Chu Xinghui became obsessed, treating Qin as the only light in his life. He grew desperate and erratic, eventually destroying his cultivation and spiritual roots to take a fatal blow for Qin Yuwen.

Only then did his parents and siblings remember him and feel immense grief. They buried him in the family grave.

Finally, the protagonist shed a tear and said: “Brother Xinghui was a bit gloomy and calculating, but he always loved us. Being buried here—he truly found peace.”

…

Even someone as emotionally stable as Chu Xinghui almost couldn’t keep a straight face.

Honestly, he didn’t understand the logic of the story.

Setting aside the other characters—just looking at himself, he felt it was utterly… insane.

Why, in that situation, did he stay in the Lingxiang Sect wasting his life instead of running away and seeking a better future? That went completely against his personal philosophy of preparing early and choosing the safest path.

Why did one piece of candy make him fall so deeply in love? No sane person would do something like that.

He grew up in the local charity orphanage in a wealthy town, surrounded by kind, ordinary people. Many had given him candy and meals. He had also given things back when he earned money. He had experienced kindness and didn’t consider himself emotionally deprived—surely he wouldn’t fall for such a cheap trick.

And if he were truly “calculating,” wouldn’t he at least need more money to be tricked?

…Most importantly, in the book, he was a spell cultivator.

He didn’t dislike spell arts—many cultivators dabbled in other paths. But from the start, he had trained as a sword cultivator. Switching paths after entering the cultivation world made no sense.

He didn’t know what had changed in the plot to make him act that way, but accepting that outcome now clearly went against his own cultivation heart.

After all, cultivators communicated with the spiritual forces of heaven and earth. Something like a prophecy didn’t appear without cause. Especially when accompanied by a thunderbolt—it had to be taken seriously.

So, the first thing Chu Xinghui did upon arriving at Qingyun Ferry was gather information about the Lingxiang Sect’s leaders.

Everything matched the book’s version.

The couple had indeed lost a child sixteen years ago, and all this time, they hadn’t made any effort to search. Judging by their comments, they seemed to believe the child had died. They disliked talking about it and avoided the topic entirely.

That kind of evasive attitude didn’t bode well for being welcomed back.

The mortal world and the cultivation world weren’t adjacent, but they maintained frequent contact. Cultivation sects had special departments to test fifteen-year-olds in the mortal world for spiritual roots to recruit future disciples.

Chu Xinghui’s town fell under the Lingxiang Sect’s jurisdiction. After testing positive for spiritual roots, he had received their invitation.

Before leaving, he had thoroughly researched the cultivation world. Though the Lingxiang Sect wasn’t focused on sword cultivation, it was a major sect with decent sword techniques—still a viable choice.

He had originally intended to inspect the sect before deciding whether to join.

But now… Chu Xinghui hesitated briefly, then pulled out the invitation letter and tore it in half.

He didn’t believe he was meant for a life of “returning to one’s roots and dying a proper death.” It was better to skip the Lingxiang Sect entirely.

Chu Xinghui knew something about this whole thing felt wrong. The book in his head might not be entirely accurate. But he was still weak and had no leverage. If even half of it was true, going to the Lingxiang Sect now would be like putting himself on a chopping block. The best move was to avoid the chaos for now and return once he had the power to investigate.

He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache, and looked out in the direction of the ferry.

Beiyue really was a good place—because another major sect, the Beiyue Sword Sect, was located there.

Unlike the generalist Lingxiang Sect, the Beiyue Sword Sect specialized in sword cultivation. It was the ideal place for sword cultivators.

The only problem was—it wasn’t their recruitment year.

The Beiyue Sword Sect recruited every five years. The next intake wouldn’t be for another two years.

So he would likely be a rogue cultivator in Beiyue for a while.

 

Support translation: