I stared at the intricate ceiling, taking in the smell of incense and the dim flickering candlelight.
It seemed I'd finally been transmigrated into the cultivation world, just like that mascot promised.
But... something felt off. I tried to look down, but my neck wouldn't cooperate—like it had no bones. My body felt heavy, yet weightless.
Something was seriously off.
I waved a hand in front of my blurry eyes. It was tiny and pudgy, with many bumpy rolls.
Also... why did my hand look like the most chewable toy in the universe? A primal urge surged through me and I stuffed it in my mouth.
And then, the realization hit harder than that damn truck.
I wasn't just in a new world.
Oh.
Oh, no.
I was a baby.
A giddy, hysterical laugh bubbled in my mind. My legs kicked the air involuntarily. A baby! The ultimate cheat—
Wait.
A deep, gnawing emptiness clenched in my stomach. I instinctively knew what it was. This was raw, biological demand. Every baby knows it and knows only this.
My mouth flooded with saliva.
Right. I needed sustenance. From the, uh, direct supplier. The milk tap. The—
Where was my mommy?
I looked around properly for the first time. The room was spacious with silk curtains, polished wood floors reflecting moonlight, incense burning in a bronze holder. Clearly, I was born in a wealthy family.
So why couldn't I sense anyone nearby? Was I alone?
Time to use the universal baby's summoning jutsu.
I took my soggy hand out of my mouth, drew a shaky breath, and let loose.
I cried, no, more like I shouted. Loudly, messily, with the full force of newborn lungs. It took more effort than I had expected but the result was immediate.
Not even a minute passed before footsteps rushed in from outside.
Mommy. Hehehehe.
Even though this was a novel world, it didn't feel wrong. A baby wanted its mother. Perfectly natural. Nothing weird about—
The footsteps stopped right in front of me, but this damn blurry vision still couldn't see the person. My useless baby neck refused to cooperate. I strained, wobbling dangerously, and the silhouette finally entered my line of sight.
For a second, my eyes widened.
The face... No. There was nothing there. No eyes. No nose. No lips. Just smooth, shiny skin where features should be.
WHAT THE—
But before my baby heart could explode from terror, I finally understood.
It was a bald person.
Just... really, really bald.
The person spoke in a soft, sing-song voice. "What happened to my baby? Are you missing Father already?" He said with a big smile on his face.
This bald guy is my dad?
NO WAY.
I started crying for real. My eyes welled up until tears filled my vision. He was just an average-looking dude with a head like a polished egg. Why did no cultivation novel ever mention scenarios like this? Where were the beautiful mommies and voluptuous maids?
Hearing me cry, the man started rummaging through his clothes and took a bottle out. A Bottle filled with milk.
A feeding bottle? In a cultivation world?
No wa—
Ughh.
Before I could finish my internal protest, he shoved the bottle's nipple into my mouth. My baby instincts betrayed me instantly. I latched on and began sucking like my life depended on it, because apparently, it did.
As warm milk flooded my tiny stomach, my mind relaxed against my will. This was... actually kind of nice?
While I drank silently, the man scooped me up and cradled me in his arms.
"Hahaha, look at you now, drinking away. So demanding, aren't you, you little glutton"
He kissed my cheek. Then started casually 'caressing' me.
WHAT THE HELL?! I can't handle this. This is infant indignity! Baby harassment!
I flailed my tiny body, trying to escape the awkwardness of this moment, but he pulled me closer and wrapped me in a tight embrace.
Damn it. I need an exit strategy.
Holding my tiny breath in, I focused and aimed my tiny water cannon at his face.
The first burst went wide—spraying his shoulder. But I adjusted trajectory, gave one last push, and nailed the target directly between his thick eyebrows.
HAHAHAHA. TAKE THAT, BALDY.
But that man... he just smiled?
"You little rascal." He chuckled softly, urine dripping down his face. "Aiming high already? You'll do just fine someday—you're my son, after all."
He wiped his face with nearby cloth—still keeping that infuriating smile—and placed me back in my cradle. Then he leaned down until his face filled my vision.
"Just keep drinking, okay? Your father will wash his face and come back quickly."
He said it lightly, like getting peed on by an infant was just part of his daily routine, and rushed away.
What the hell? That was my ultimate attack! But I give up. I need to find his weakness. Everyone has a weakness. Even bald cultivation dads must—
"You adapted so well already."
A familiar voice echoed in my mind. I tried to look around, but before I could, a light formed an inch from my face and expanded.
The mascot materialized from it, floating in the air. He was now tiny and transparent like a chibi version of himself.
Uh... Mr. Mascot? Can you appear in this world? I asked in my mind. I thought you couldn't interfere.
"Technically, I can't." He floated around my cradle, examining the silk curtains. "But I can communicate in this form every now and then. Think of it as a really limited data plan. Other than that? No interference. You're on your own."
I took another deep suck of milk.
Good. I have lots of questions.
Shouldn't I get memories of the future? Or the original novel's premise? I have zero information. I don't even know this story's name.
"Don't worry about that." The mascot landed on the edge of my cradle, swinging his tiny legs. "Right now, I've started writing the story from the moment you entered this world."
Wait. I stopped sucking. So my life here is going to be published as a novel on NovelWeb?
"Exactly. You're the protagonist and the source material. You live the story, make the choices. I just observe, record, and upload the chapters." He puffed out his tiny chest. "You're an author and I'm the greatest editor."
Haan. I resumed drinking, processing. So I'm the decision maker. I like that.
What should I do now?
The mascot was silent for a moment, his screen-face thoughtful. "I don't know if I can tell you all the story details yet. Need to check with the executives first."
Executives? I blinked. So NovelWeb is run by actual celestial gods?
"Something like that. I'll explain next time. For now..." He gave me a thumbs up. "You'll get a bit of character development before unlocking your cheat."
A cheat! My mind did a backflip. I'm getting a cheat!
As for character development, I was ready. I'd read enough cultivation stories to know how this went. Probably some bullies would look down on me because my talent was garbage. They'd mock my bald-headed father, call us trash, maybe steal our family heirloom. Then I'd unlock my super cheat, destroy them, and their entire families, and laugh while standing over their pathetic corpses.
Hehehe.
Classic. I didn't even need to know the future—I'd already figured it out.
"You seem to be enjoying this." The mascot's screen curved into something like approval. "Good to know we chose the right person. Alright, I'll come back after I complete the first chapter. Do your best until then. The future of our platform depends on you. Don't let us down."
He waved and vanished.
I blinked at the empty space for a moment, then took the feeding bottle out of my mouth.
The future of our platform. Mascot's final words echoed in my mind.
Millions of readers. Countless stories. All depending on... me.
I gripped the bottle tighter and stared at the ceiling, a smile spreading across my baby lips.
First, I'd figure out this world. Learn its cultivation ranks, its politics, its hidden treasures. Then I'd find the original novel's plot—it has to be buried somewhere in my mind. And once my cheat unlocked...
Heaven-defying besties. Hidden caves with manuals written by immortal emperors. Rising through the ranks while my enemies wept.
Perfect.
I closed my eyes, let the warm milk drag me toward sleep, and dreamed of jade beauties fighting over who got to be my dao partner.
...
Looking back, I was so naive back then.
So stupid.
I had no idea life was a cruel, BDSM-loving bitch waiting with a strap-on.