The night was quiet, save for the relentless tapping of a keyboard.Jiang Hao's eyes were bloodshot, his shoulders stiff, his neck bent like a bowstring stretched too far. Empty coffee cups crowded his desk, and the glowing screen mocked him with lines of code that blurred with every blink.
Just one more line, he told himself. Just one more fix. Just one more deadline to survive.
But his body had had enough.
The pain came suddenly, sharp as a sword piercing his chest. His vision darkened, his hands froze on the keyboard. Breathless, Jiang Hao leaned back in his chair, the room spinning around him. He tried to stand, to take another sip of bitter coffee, but his legs gave way.
The last thing he saw was the glow of the monitor, the endless rows of numbers and words. His life had been reduced to overtime shifts, to carrying the weight of projects no one else wanted. No glory, no peace, no reward.
As darkness swallowed him, a single thought crossed his mind.
Never again.
The air smelled different.
Jiang Hao opened his eyes to find himself lying on soft grass beneath a vast, endless sky. Mountains towered in the distance, wrapped in white mist, their peaks so high they pierced the clouds. Rivers glittered like silver threads, and the hum of unseen energy pulsed in the world around him.
He sat up slowly, stunned. His office was gone. His stiff suit, too. He now wore a plain robe, coarse but comfortable, tied loosely at the waist. A wooden token lay beside him, carved with three simple characters:
Azure Heaven Sect.
Jiang Hao frowned. "Sect? What sect? Did I… transmigrate?"
A flood of foreign memories surged into his mind. He clutched his head as images flickered past—disciples in flowing robes, sword arts practiced beneath waterfalls, flames of demonic energy devouring villages. He saw himself, or rather, the young man whose body he now inhabited: a lowly outer disciple of the Azure Heaven Sect, mocked for his lack of talent, scraping by on the edges of cultivation society.
And with those memories came clarity.
This was not Earth. This was a cultivation world.
He exhaled long and slow, staring at the endless horizon. Instead of panic, a strange calmness settled over him. He remembered his final moments at the office, the bitter taste of coffee, the suffocating weight of endless overtime.
"Not again," Jiang Hao murmured. "If fate brought me here, then I'll live differently. No more killing myself for meaningless work. No more endless nights."
His lips curved into a rare smile.
"From now on, I'll cultivate nine to five."
The wind rustled the grass as if laughing at his vow. But Jiang Hao was serious.
The next day, Jiang Hao walked into the outer sect compound of Azure Heaven Sect. Rows of wooden houses lined the path, with disciples bustling about—some carrying swords, others balancing buckets of water or chopping firewood. Everyone seemed busy, determined, eager to advance their cultivation.
Jiang Hao, on the other hand, strolled like a man on holiday. His handsome face, sharp but relaxed, drew more than a few stares, though most disciples quickly turned away with disdain. Handsome or not, everyone knew Jiang Hao was useless.
"Look at him," one whispered. "Never trains, always daydreaming."
"Elder Wu Tian must be blind if he sees anything in that one," another sneered.
Jiang Hao didn't care. He'd heard worse insults in his past life, and besides, he had no intention of proving himself to anyone. He wasn't here for glory. He was here for peace.
The sect's bell rang, signaling the start of morning drills. Disciples gathered in the training field, swords flashing in the morning sun. Jiang Hao stood at the edge, yawning.
The instructor barked, "Jiang Hao! Why are you standing there? Draw your sword and join the drills!"
Jiang Hao scratched his cheek. "It's not part of my schedule. I work from dawn until dusk, nothing more. And I already drew my sword yesterday."
The field went silent. Then came laughter.
"Schedule? He thinks cultivation follows a schedule!"
"Lazy fool. He'll be sweeping floors his whole life."
Jiang Hao ignored them, his gaze drifting to the sky. He could feel it—the flow of qi in the air, pouring into him with every breath, seeping into his bones without effort. He didn't need drills. Power found him on its own, like water filling a vessel.
But no one else needed to know that.
That evening, when the drills ended, Jiang Hao returned to his small hut. He brewed tea, sat at his desk, and watched the sun sink behind the mountains. His body buzzed with quiet strength, his sealed core humming like a hidden star.
The world wanted him to chase power, but he would chase balance.
Nine to five. Then tea at sunset.
That was his dao.
The peace didn't last.
A week later, outer sect disciples were dispatched on a mission to patrol nearby villages. Jiang Hao was dragged along, much to his dismay. He preferred the quiet of his hut, but orders were orders.
The group was led by Lin Xueyao, a graceful inner disciple whose name carried weight in the sect. Her swordsmanship was elegant, her bearing noble, and her cold beauty made her the subject of endless admiration.
She glanced at Jiang Hao with a faint frown. "You again. Don't get in the way."
"I'll be finished by dusk," Jiang Hao replied with a smile.
Her brows furrowed, but she said nothing more.
The patrol went smoothly until nightfall, when shadows stirred in the forest. Screams erupted as black flames tore through the trees. Figures cloaked in demonic qi emerged, their laughter chilling.
"Demon Sect!" Lin Xueyao shouted, sword flashing into her hand.
The disciples panicked, forming shaky defensive lines.
Jiang Hao sighed. "Of course. Overtime."
A demonic cultivator lunged at him, blade dripping with dark qi. Jiang Hao barely moved—his hand rose, fingers brushing the blade aside as if swatting an insect. The attacker froze, eyes widening in horror. A heartbeat later, his body collapsed into ash.
No one saw how it happened. No one could.
Lin Xueyao blinked, stunned. The other disciples stared at Jiang Hao as if seeing him for the first time.
He adjusted his sleeve calmly. "Let's make this quick. I'd like to be home before sunset."
And with that, the "lazy" disciple of Azure Heaven Sect revealed a glimpse of his true strength, while still clinging to his vow: no overtime, no wasted effort—only pea