I was standing on a massive mosaic, deep within a vast forest.The ground beneath my feet was covered in enormous ornaments, too deliberate to feel natural.
Children surrounded me. Most of them looked twelve or thirteen years old.Some wore wide, ornate robes, their arrogance almost tangible. Others, like me, were dressed in torn, worn clothes.
Hair came in strange colors.Their eyes, however, shared the same thing—fear.A fear shaped like a question they already knew the answer to, but were too afraid to ask.
Then the elders arrived.
There was one man among them.An old man with a white beard.
He approached slowly and climbed a few steps of a staircase positioned where everyone could see him. He turned his back to the platform and observed us, as if he could read our thoughts.
"Follow me."
The voice was not physical.It echoed directly inside my mind.
While everyone stood frozen in shock, some couldn't endure it.They collapsed and vomited.
The man took a step forward.I followed, silently.
Those wearing colorful robes were the first to fall behind.Their sky-high arrogance seemed to shatter.
I, on the other hand, was still trying to understand what was happening.Just moments ago, I had been at home, eating a bowl of noodles.Now I was here, walking forward for reasons I couldn't comprehend.
As we continued, exhaustion set in.The pressure grew heavier with every step.My nose began to bleed.
Still, I walked on—as if this body's last wish was simply to keep moving.
When I finally took another step, I realized how much the crowd had thinned.Tens of thousands had become mere thousands.
Ahead of us stood a platform.
The man climbed onto it and began to speak.I listened, almost against my will.
This was what I learned:
His name was Lin Tang Di.He was a war veteran who had fought against other sects in the northern regions. After emerging victorious, he became the head of his order. He had traveled far, met countless people, and once formed a pact with a fox spirit. He had wandered through many realms.
In the last three hundred years of his life, he chose to return here—only to leave behind his final legacy.
The old man continued speaking about cultivation.
People always desire power.Some seek it through virtue, others through intellect. No matter the reason, one must never forget that power can reduce a person to something beastlike. Even virtue becomes fragile in the face of power.
What truly matters is one's own will.When you fall, when you stumble, when no one hears you—it is will alone that keeps you standing.
Strangely enough, I already knew these things.I had read about them in novels.
When the speech ended, everyone was lined up.
A woman in her twenties began organizing the crowd. I followed her instructions. That was when I noticed the sphere.
People touched it, and it changed color—yellow, blue, sometimes white.
I still didn't understand what it meant.
When it was my turn, the man called out my name.
"Su Lin. Third-grade root. Room 403."
At that moment, I encountered the thing that appeared in every story—a status screen.
Name: Su LinCultivation: NoneRoots: Third-grade Spiritual RootTechnique: NoneTalent: None
The man handed me a guidebook.
"Read it. Everything you need is inside."
I stepped aside as people continued to come and go. I opened the book.
That was when I found the answer.
This was a cultivation world.And I had come here through soul transmigration.