If you ever find a door under your sect that says "Absolutely Do Not Open Unless World Is Ending", here's some advice:
Don't open it.
Unless you're Fang Mei, who tripped over a mop and accidentally booted it open with her face.
"It just fell open!" she cried.
Mu Lian stood at the threshold, holding a candle and her last nerve.
"It's sealed in thirteen scripts, a circle of binding blood, and a passive-aggressive note that says, 'Don't wake me unless my successor is ready.'"
I peeked over her shoulder, sipping my tea.
"Maybe he wants to talk?"
Mu Lian gave me a long, withering look.
"…You don't even know who 'he' is, do you?"
"No idea," I said. "But this sounds like a great time for a break."
The Forbidden Vault Beneath the Sect
Descending into the crypt felt like entering someone's bad decisions in chronological order.
We passed:
A portrait of a scowling cultivator holding a blade and a book labeled "Enlightenment Through Murder".
A monument that read, "Here Lies Everyone Who Doubted Me."
A series of motivational quotes chiseled into the walls, including:
"Nap later. Cultivate now.""The Dao is not for quitters.""NO SNACKS IN THE HALL."
I felt personally attacked.
At the bottom, we found a massive stone coffin surrounded by runes that pulsed slowly, like a snoring titan.
Then came the voice.
"WHO… DISTURBS THE SLUMBER… OF THE SEVERED BLADE?!"
The sarcophagus cracked. A glowing skeletal figure with blazing eye sockets floated above it, surrounded by ghostly sword energy.
Fang Mei screamed. Mu Lian sighed.
I waved.
"Hi. You must be the Founder?"
The ghost stared.
"YOU… YOU ARE THE DESCENDANT WHO INHERITED MY TECHNIQUES?"
"Yes," I said. "Though I… kind of slept through most of the cultivation manuals."
The ghost blinked.
Literally. Both eyes extinguished, then re-lit.
"…You're kidding."
"Nope," I said cheerfully.
He drifted forward, rage building.
"I forged this sect with blood and sacrifice! I dueled ten thousand demons on a single breath! I sealed myself in slumber awaiting the Chosen One, the next blade of destiny—"
I raised a hand.
"I prefer tea."
He exploded.
Ghostly Ranting Ensues
"YOU DISHONOR MY LEGACY!"
"Mmhm."
"I SACRIFICED CENTURIES TO PERFECT THE PATH OF THE CLEAVING DAWN!"
"Sounds tiring."
"I WAS CALLED THE BLADE THAT WROTE SCRIPTURE IN BLOOD!"
I slurped my tea louder.
The ghost threw his phantom hands up. "How did someone like you become the sect head?"
"Everyone else left," Mu Lian muttered from the corner.
Fang Mei nodded. "He also accidentally absorbed a Godseed."
"WHAT."
"I didn't mean to," I said. "It fell in my soup."
Training… Kinda
The ghost began pacing.
"Fine. Fine. If fate has truly chosen you, then you must be retrained."
"Oh no," I muttered.
"Yes! We will begin at dawn with rigorous body tempering—"
"No thanks."
"Then intense sword forms!"
"Nope."
"Spiritual rebirth under thunder waterfalls!"
"Too loud."
The ghost trembled with rage. "How do you cultivate?!"
I gestured lazily.
"I set up a spirit pillow array. Lay down. Meditate. Drink tea. Comprehend the Dao while horizontal."
The ghost wheezed.
Mu Lian whispered, "Should we… get holy water?"
But then the ghost stopped.
Slowly, he sat cross-legged in midair.
"…Show me."
Demonstration of Daoic Laziness
I summoned the Cloud-Pillow Formation.
The ghost reluctantly lay down.
Silence stretched.
Spirit air shifted.
Then… his form relaxed.
He sighed.
"This… reminds me of the seven-day nap before my final duel."
I smiled.
Fang Mei gasped. "Is he… achieving enlightenment?"
"No," I whispered. "He's just remembering comfort."
The ghost slowly floated upright.
"Perhaps… the blade need not always be drawn."
I nodded. "Exactly. If they stab themselves in the foot first, why bother?"
New Technique: Ghost Approval
You have taught the founder's ghost to embrace comfort.Ghost Ancestor will now offer passive buffs during naps.Ability unlocked: "Spectral Tutoring" – Gain +20% comprehension speed while horizontal within 10 meters of grumpy ghost.
Back to the Surface
The ghost vanished into the walls, promising to haunt any disciple who disrespects the Dao of Napping.
Mu Lian looked at me.
"You realize what this means, right?"
"I have backup?"
"No. The sect is now known across realms for having a founder who teaches slacker-cultivation from the grave."
"…Neat."
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
"We're going to get raided again."
Later That Week
A visiting elder from the Thunderforge Sect arrived, demanding to duel our "spirit ancestor."
Instead, he tripped over the sleeping ghost, got softly haunted, and ran screaming into a wall.
I made tea.
Fang Mei read from a scroll of praises and complaints.
"Someone in the Eastern Peaks wants to enroll because we 'radiate non-toxic masculine apathy.'"
Mu Lian raised an eyebrow. "Is that… a compliment?"
I shrugged. "It's accurate."
We sat in silence as the sunset bled across the clouds.
I leaned back, perfectly aligned with the leyline hammock we'd just installed.
"Think the ancestor's proud of me now?"
Mu Lian didn't answer.
Fang Mei whispered, "He said you were the 'prophesied regression.'"
"…I'll take it."
System Message
The Dao of Strategic Procrastination has absorbed ancestral echoes.You feel… validated.New sub-path unlocked: "Ghostly Slumber Transmission" – You may now project naps into other people's dreams to share insights.Caution: Not all minds handle sleepy philosophy well.