Agony and terror.

I couldn't drum up a better pair of words to describe what it was like waking up falling.

Wind whipped my ears, a sickening churning hooking deep in my belly, and my eyes met with swirling shapes and bright colors against the midnight sky when I opened them.

Then the pain crashed in like a tidal wave crushing me in sending every thought I get a hold on flying away. The fall seemed endless but I couldn't even muster up the will to flail.

I might've screamed.

Someone did. Or rather something.

Like a distant tornado warning siren, a groaning wail began building on the edges of my hearing and grew louder and louder until my very bones felt rattled by a bass howl. It was in pain. It was angry.

Most likely angry because it was in pain. It pulsed against my senses, red hot and stinging like a livid welt.

Lost in my own confusion and fear, I couldn't imagine anything human or animal making a sound so unearthly.

I wasn't given time to imagine what could. My never ending fall wasn't so endless after all.

As if my body was so overwhelmed that it couldn't process it all and as the swirling colors resolved into stars, the stars crashed down on me.

I hit the water so hard it was like a wall had rose to meet me. The pain was so intense it circled right back around to almost numbing...

It was cold.

It was dark.

It sure as hell wasn't the hospital.

X-X

Hou Chengyu, an outer disciple of the Bronze Throne Sect, knew he was going to die. The realization didn't lessen his terror and he choked down the whimper clawing the back of his throat as he fled half blind through Tinted Glades swamp. A wiser man would've seen the futility of fleeing so he would die tired. Lungs on fire and muscles throbbing, he waded deeper into the marsh without regard to his direction, just needing to keep moving. Away. Just away. He knew the monster behind him wasn't so much hunting him as following his floundering.

He'd always thought when the moment came, where he would be called to face an enemy, his death would at least mean something. To himself, if not the sect.

"It is one thing to die for honor but do not seek to hang yourself with your own pride," his master once told him, "A warrior fights when he can, a wise man fights when he needs. The end should have some purpose. "

'What purpose was left in this?' A vile voice in the back of his head wondered. 'Running with nothing more than a box to defend yourself? As if you will make it back to Crystal Orchard City. You should stop and save your dign-'

He snarled, cutting off the traitorous thought. If he stopped, the monster would catch him. If he turned for a second, he'd be dead. So, he ran. That was it, the sum of all his ambitions. A chance to impress the elders, to show his training as a cultivator in a simple delivery...

It all led to him clutching the sealed box entrusted to him and his fellow outer disciples – dead now, all but him – to his chest like a mother would her child, his desperate flight weighed down by the quickly increasing weight of his increasingly sodden robes. The stagnant, slow-moving water felt more like wicked demonic hands trying to pull him to his death. The slimy tendrils of plants made each step a slog, and the stench of decay stung his nostrils, choking away all the fresh air.

He scrubbed at his eyes to clear away the blood, swearing bitterly but quietly at the cowards who'd left them behind at camp. Then he just started swearing louder as muddy foul-smelling water began to sting his eyes and further blur his already foggy vision.

In the near absolute darkness of the cloudy moonless night, being unable to see less was the one thing he couldn't afford.

Then the inevitable happened. A rock or a root or maybe even an apparition of a malicious ancestor of his, reached out and tripped him. He fell, unable to catch himself in time to prevent going under. The weight of the box dragged him down and the current of the swamp barely helped his way down stream. He failed to notice the paper seal on the box as he thrashed about, almost managing to lose his grip on the box entirely. He forced his feet under him and rose. Slowly. Too slowly.

Hou's jaw clenched as he fought the urge to vomit, his body trembling more violently. 'Get up, dammit!' He mentally screamed, shivering as all kinds of foulness he'd rather not think about slopped over the collar of his tunic. Sticky, cloying, and cold warred with burning adrenaline and throbbing exhaustion as he splashed to his feet and swept his hair from his face.

The sudden stillness of the water told him he was too late. The ripples which bent and swayed the algae and fungus on its surface stopping as if obeying a silent command.

He didn't think, just leapt, his limbs coming out of the water.

Not a second too late, as his boots clapped against the murky water suddenly as solid as any floor he'd ever walked on. Had he not jumped, his legs would've certainly snapped like dry twigs.

That was the only blessing his ancestors allowed.

CRACK! A whip of water thick as any oxen leg smashed against his side.

X-X

I spluttered awake, my body jolting in fright as water abruptly hit my face and filled my open mouth. I choked, fire ripping up the right side of my chest as everything behind my navel felt like it was dipped in molten steel. My whole body seized up as I struggled to breathe and my vision turned white, sparks erupting across my eyesight.

I tried to scream but only managed a choked sob before I sucked in another mouthful of water.

Before the coughing could start, the now clear, blue sky tunneled into a pin then winked out, leaving me in darkness with the coppery tang of blood and bile in the back of my throat.

X-X

The single strike bent him so far, Hou was sure he'd break in half. Something actually broke. Something important broke. The only reason why he wasn't killed instantly was due to his cultivation. At the 8th and final stage of the Body Refinement Realm, he'd been so proud when he reached that level. So much work after lagging behind his peers for so long. He now cursed his foolishness.

His scream caught in his throat like jagged knives, forcing blood up instead of sound and he retched. Waves of agony and nausea wracked his frame, the pain was so bad he didn't feel himself slam back into the unforgiving, solid as stone water. He gasped for air, his lungs frantically searching for oxygen, but no matter how hard he tried, his breath came out in a thin and labored wheeze.

But at least his grip on the box remained firm. The thought would've made him snort had he the breath. It was less he held onto it and more his arms locked around it's dark wood as agony forced every muscle to clench.

'Let go,' it jeered, sounding too much like someone he knew. 'You have nothing to live for. You have failed. You're worthless."

He gagged as he rolled over to protect it. On his knees, he could feel his broken ribs shifting and pounding fire along his entire side from shoulder to foot.

X-X

When I awoke again, I was misery incarnate. I don't know when I woke up again but let's just say I knew I had to have been days. Just a hunch though.

What wasn't a hunch was my certainty I wasn't on Earth anymore.

Even as my thoughts bobbed up through the pain into consciousness, I could practically feel them tangled with Hou's. A knotted messy net of memories and more which threatened to drag me down into them to get lost.

With a great effort I shrugged them off, focusing on the here and now. I opened my eyes to the woven reed ceiling and the sound of burbling water. Light, morning or evening sunlight, spilled through open windows and the humid air it brought with it swept over my face, alerting me that my head was wrapped in bandages.

I groaned, the world around me fuzzy and dull. Somehow, I felt like I had only just fallen asleep, yet it felt like years since my head had touched the pillow. I blinked, trying to get the grit out of my eyes and trying... failing to work some moisture into my mouth.

I was still riding the hazy wave between drowsy panic and the edge of numbness because the first thing I did was sit up and look down. There was a mass of bandages wrapped around my chest, like honest to God skin-tight wrappings.

Taking them in, I was reminded idly of a medical fact I learned somewhere bindings were never supposed to be tighter than they absolutely had to be. Doubly so with injuries.

A flutter of worry swept right over me, dark bloody patches staining the white gauze in a few places, and I could feel it's dry texture and flaking as it clung to my skin.

Only it wasn't my body. Forget about the musculature for a moment, my skin wasn't even the same color. It was a warm light tan, not the brown I was used to.

I raised my hands to examine them which drew my attention to where I was.

This wasn't the hospital nor a cell, thank God. There was no door. No bars. No guards. Just a narrow open room with slats covering the windows, a rough woven sheet over the door and a simple bed under me. The mat was thin and would've been hell on my spine back home, but it might as well have been from a five-star hotel bed in my state.

Then my brain caught up with my body and I fell back down when a sharp burning sensation shot through my chest. I hissed, the pain sharp and gut wrenching.

I must've gone into shock or my brain decided to give me a hammer blow of adrenaline because instead of dropping into a full-blown panic attack, a cool calm settled over me. The pain was still there as well as the muddle in my brain, but I wasn't on the verge of freaking out.

With my thoughts clear for the moment, I immediately wondered how I even got here. Everything up till now felt more or less like a vivid nightmare, a vague sense of wrongness coupled with fear too far away to latch on to, yet close enough to make my heart stutter.

'Think, take a deep breath and think,' I mentally chanted and tried to coax my memories out in some semblance of order.

I was just on the edge of getting something. I closed my eyes and tugged on that thread.

Big mistake.

A riot of memories, noise, impressions, and other things swamped over me with enough force I swore it pulled me off the bed.

I could only lay where I was and tremble, the floor spinning as I watched a young man die.

X-X

"Tsk, tsk." The voice clicking it's tongue was sweet, like honey and warm. "I didn't want it like this," the inhumanly beautiful, rich voice said to him. Two pale white hands stretched towards him; the long, slender fingers tipped with sharp, painted yellow nails like topaz claws. "Such a foolish, stupid boy."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

His chest burned but he threw out his arm blindly, smacking the hands away. He knew their owner allowed him to, since they'd cut his brothers down like a scythe to grain. He forced himself straight, only to nearly fall over as empty air filled his vision. 'The falls,' he realized, numbly. 'Nowhere else to run.' He'd scrambled himself right into a dead end. His arms shook as he turned around to look his death in the eyes.

The cultivator had not a spot on him. Not of mud or blood. The red silk robes were like crimson moonlight, the gold embroidering like the sun. This close he saw there was not a patch of identification to be seen. Not that he'd expected it, no sect no matter how powerful would've been stupid enough to do this and risk even the most tenuous of links back themselves. Still though, knowing this didn't change the fact he wished to at least curse this bastard's masters with his last breath.

His long hair, a twisted braid of silver and black, shone with an ethereal light, like something out of a dream. As he slightly smirked, the slight upturn to the corners of his mouth couldn't dare be called a smile, his beauty struck a chill in Hou's heart. He appeared younger than Hou himself, but that was irrelevant, for cultivators were eternal. "Give it to me."

He hugged the box tighter, shivering even harder, each breath dragging its way into his throat and clawing its way out.

'So, this is how it ends,' he thought, his eyes flicking down to the box. 'I'll die and this box will be lost. And Bronze Throne, the very back of the empire will be vulnerable. It'll all be for nothing.' Hou's heart surged, screaming for him to fight or at least, toss the box over the falls. He had no idea what this was, what he was even going to die for but he knew it must be important something so valuable a cultivator such as this had come to wipe them out for it. A black haze blurred his vision for a moment, despair almost buckling him over. He clenched his teeth. No, if this bastard wanted it there was only one right thing to do...

He snarled, his grimace of pain and bloody teeth "Come and take it."

Hou knew the monster would go for the face. He'd plucked Brother Gongmin's eyes out right in front of him. So, before he finished the sentence, he was already lifting the box up to block. It was only then he realized something...

His arms weren't what was shaking. In his terror and exhaustion and pain, he thought his nerves, such as they were, had fled his control.

The box was. If he would've had the time to examine it, it would've been impossible to miss the scratched seals. Seals made to contain something not just valuable but powerful.

His attacker's hand smashed into the box, breaking the seal and container and Hou, himself in one vicious strike.

Qi exploded and Hou died. Not from the punch which would've turned a lesser man's head to pulp.

A black hole opened in space and all the heavens seemed to fall in on them both. Hou felt something jab into his chest. A sliver of something inside the box, thin as paper slipping between ribs to pierce his heart like a needle.

As everything began to fade, a thunderous impact which shook his bones sending him flying off his feet towards the empty air over the waterfall. Then the stars flashed, a stream of vibrant reds and oranges filled his vision, and all was dark.

X-X

I gasped, clutching my chest feeling nothing but the burn of my ribs as everything slotted into place.

Getting a front row seat to the memory of Hou Chengyu running for his life before the fall wasn't pretty.

The sheer confused horror he felt when he watched the senior brothers, people he'd been willing to die for mind you, just up and abandoned them when the monster showed up was as bitter as it was heartbreaking.

Speaking of monsters, the cultivator tore through the disciples like a lawnmower through dry grass. Some ran, others begged, not many fought. All fell. Joints crushed with casual ease; arms ripped off with the effort of twisting a cap off a water bottle. In the end, if anyone survived his first blows, he took their eyes.

No. Absolutely not. Hell no.

Hou might have wanted revenge, but I didn't want to get within spitting distance of a guy who wasted a bunch of pseudo-supermen like a Green Beret unleashed on a kindergarten.

I was in Xianxia fantasy land and the genre was known for its brutality.

Case in point, whoever ambushed the Hou and his fellows on a trade mission was a perfect example.

I'm lucky he hadn't torn Hou apart now I was in his body but it was obvious he was one of those sadistic fucks that liked to play the people they killed. That was why he let the outer disciple get as far from the ambush because 'It was probably no fun when they don't struggle a little' or something like that. I mean, shit, if you're some evil son of a bitch that just killed nearly 20 people who couldn't fight back, of course you take a moment to gloat.

Hou fit the protagonist role well, too.

The guy had gone above and beyond with his loyalty. He worked himself to the bone at the temple, always topping the to-do list. He pushed himself to the point of collapse in training. He didn't complain once. As far as I could tell, Hou Chengyu was pretty... well, not respected? Would the word be, reliable maybe?

And you know what? That was pretty damn admirable. Even if he was a little too hardcore. It got him killed. Well, got him killed slower than the others.

Sure, he was an idiot for taunting the fucker, but I couldn't really blame him. For someone about to die, he had a snappier comeback than I would have.

I mean, I might've said something dumb like 'Hey, at least I didn't walk into a fucking swamp' but that's about it and what kind of last words were those?

Actually, no. I won't kid myself. If I'd been in Hou's place I'd have needed a nice big pair of brown trousers.

That aside, no matter what last words I could cobble together, I certainly wasn't gonna be saying them to anyone. Not the red robe guy and to no one in the Bronze Throne Sect.

Sorry, man but if you were left hanging out to dry then I don't have a snowflake's chance in hell. In that direction were traitors at best, cowards at worst.

"Oh, you're awake," came a cheerful male voice, accented in a rural twang Hou... I recognized.

I turned my head as far as I dared and saw a smiling bald dude in loose gray clothes. The style of them and the net he carried in one hand told me he was a fisherman. Probably the one who pulled my ass out the water. I noticed the water jug on his hip and it reminded me how thirsty I was.

It took a few tries for me to rasp out, "W-w-water. Please."

"Oh! Sorry, sorry, of course," the fisherman apologized, patting my good shoulder before he pulled the jug off his belt and helped me drink.

The water was cool, with the refreshing flavor of a mountain spring, and the first mouthful made me cough a little. The fisherman pressed the jug to my lips again, encouraging me to take several, steadying gulps.

"Thank you," I rasped.

"No worries, son," the fisherman smiled as he took the jug back. "Are you in any pain?"

"My... my chest...," I croaked.

He winced, clearly having seen my injuries in their glory. "We did what we could, master cultivator but we don't have a healing sage or doctor among us in the village." He spoke apologetically as he had somehow failed me by not being able to do more.

I managed a smile at him. "Not a problem." Then I realized what he said. My shock must've shown because he paused before adding, "You are a cultivator, yes?"

"Y-yeah," I agreed then wanted to smack myself for being so paranoid. I was smashed all to hell. Of course, anyone could guess I was a cultivator because no one could've survived what I went through.

"I'm Li. The chief fisherman of Qing Chuan (Clear Water) Village," the fisherman continued with a small bow. The name of the village didn't ring a bell in Hou's memories.

"Nice to meet you, Li. I'm..." I cut myself off in midsentence, choking on my words. Thankfully, Li didn't notice my slip-up and, thinking I was in need, lowered the jug to my lips. I took grateful sips as I tried to think. Hou was either thought dead or people would be looking for him soon, either way I couldn't afford to leave a trail behind if I wanted a clean cut. I also couldn't use a name from back home, it would be too weird.

Unfortunately, I only knew one Chinese name that I could even consider authentic. I prayed to God that he wasn't around in Xianxia land.

No, actually that would be kinda awesome.

"This one is known as Lee Jun-Fan." I answered as when Li brought the Jug back. "How long was I out?"

"Three days," the fisherman answered. "You were just floatin' down the river face up."

Well, that wasn't too bad. That meant I had a head start. "How far are we from the Tinted Glades?"

Li's eye boggled. "33 li, at least."

I paused, midway running that through my head. Was someone playing a joke on me? Lee, Li, and li... I shook it off.

I could understand his shock. If Hou's studies were correct, and I was leaning on them being exactly right, I was floating, face up, down the Dragon's Blood River, for about 10 miles. I sure as hell didn't walk those 10 miles.

That put me roughly more than 30 from Crystal Orchard City and the Bronze Throne Sect. Oh yeah, quite a head start.

"I'd like some time to think," I told him with a strain in my voice. "Can I get some more water later, please?"

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry, Lee Jun-Fan," Li apologized, bowing deeply and corked the jug. "Of course."

Li backed out the door and I took a deep breath in relief. Lee Jun-Fan... Again, I hope to God that name isn't famous here. I could almost hear the bellowing of his fans through the distance between home and this new world.

Best I get going. With a focus of effort, I used my Qi to numb the pain and work on fixing my body. Hou didn't know much more than the basics of the healing arts. I didn't need more than the basics.

I slowly figured out that my chest wasn't so much apple crumble anymore, a benefit to being a cultivator, I guess. Apparently, I healed a little while I was out cold. Enough so my ribs only screamed at me when I moved, not throttling me senseless.

To my shock, the equivalent of first aid in this world allowed me to sit up and move after nearly half an hour.

After a bit of struggle, I managed to sit up and take stock of myself. My clothes were off and folded next to the bed. I was stripped down to my underwear and in its place were bandages. They must've treated me while it was out.

I wasn't a hundred percent. No, that would take spiritual herbs and getting spiritual herbs took money to buy.

They were cheap to get in the sect, free if you grew your own which Hou... I mean, I knew how to do. The problem was it would take time I don't think I had.

Actually, that brought up an even bigger issue.

What was my plan long-term?

What was my plan? I didn't have one. My only long-term goal was to not die.

Unlike when I first got here, overwhelmed by memories and my ass thoroughly kicked, actually could process now. And I think I believe it was the Qi that helped me focus on the present.

All the safety nets I took for granted back home were gone and, damn... They were gone.

Hell, I didn't even have a weapon or money. I didn't even have the money for a weapon. I glanced at my hands, curling them into fists before relaxing. "I am a weapon." I chuckled. It was half-hearted though. There was no way in hell I was fighting anyone in my state.

A quick shuffle through Hou's memories told me I was wrong about the money, too. He'd saved up a quite a bit doing jobs around the temple and on this mission that got him killed, he taken some with him for drinks with his fellow outer disciples. A quick search of my surroundings turned up a coin-purse with a decent amount of coin.

So, money, defense, and the clothes on my back.

I was a long way from home, in a world that I sure as hell didn't want to be in. I couldn't tell how long I had till the Bronze Throne Sect noticed the mission's disappearance. The thought of them trying to find me made me shudder.

I couldn't just show up at the Bronze Throne Sect and say, "Hi, I'm Hou Chengyu, the first guy died and I've taken his place."

Hou might've wanted to become a great cultivator and bring glory and honor to his sect and the Golden Talon Empire but I didn't.

Yeah, buddy. Casting down one's enemies sounded great in the pages of a novel but unfortunately, I wasn't reading a novel. Xianxia was my reality, and it wasn't for me.

Hou was a good guy, a classic hero in the making, who wanted to do right by everyone he met. He also couldn't cultivate worth a damn. He lagged behind his peers in the sect and frankly, I could tell he was miserable.

But I had no idea if things would've played out differently if this hadn't happened. All I knew was I wasn't Hou Chengyu.

I wasn't anyone's hero. I had my own name, my own personality, my own skills. I wasn't going to change myself for the world to like me.

"Fuck it," I muttered.

I'd read, watched, and played those story beats far too many times to not figure out I wasn't that guy. You know the guy, the main character who never gives up in the face of any and all opposition.

As far as this world was concerned, I was Lee Jun-Fan now.

Plus, as a man of faith, immortality just didn't appeal.

I blinked. Talk about dissonance... This was a miracle, no doubt about it. There wasn't a scientific theory good enough to explain how I got here. Only God could've put me here. For what purpose I wasn't sure...

Why was I here? I wouldn't call my life back home important or anything, just average in the grand scheme of many. I wasn't a scientist curing cancer or a police officer keeping the peace or even a preacher giving hope and salvation.

My life was just... there. I studied though probably not a hard as I should've, got into a community college because a proper university was too damn expensive, and ended up as a public servant.

Not a politician, a public servant. And yeah, there was a difference.

I handled garbage collection before moving on to working to the Post Office.

I did my best to be a good man, even if I did get angry sometimes. Even if I did complain.

I wasn't rich but I wasn't poor either. I had a decent, satisfying life.

Was I really so insignificant back home that I ended up here? My soul swapped with another like batteries in a remote?

I was grateful. No, I was thankful at this blessing at another life, but it didn't help the sinking sense of worthlessness tugging by guts into a whirlpool of misery. I was just a guy doing his best, I think.

I was just a guy. A guy who wanted to write books...

By the time Li returned, I managed to get my sect uniform on. I took the time to peel off the bronze brick-shaped patches on the collar and stuff them in a pocket right before he showed up. As the footsteps got close, I turned to see the fisherman flanked by another bald man.

This one look more like he was bald by age instead of choice and his clothes were finer but only just.

"Ah, you're up. Good, good." He greeted sweeping his arms wide in the welcoming gesture that almost could've been an invitation for a hug. I don't think either of us that forward though. "I'm Elder Sun." He bowed.

"Lee Jun-Fan." I returned the gesture, nodding to Li when he handed me the water off the floor. "Call me Jun."

"Of course, Master Jun." His smile can only be called grandfatherly.

Now, had I been writing this story for Hou and not in it, this would've been the moment when the village elder would've made some sort of request. The village would be in some sort of danger from monsters or bandits or something that could be easily defeated by the hero. You know typical 'heroes journey' stuff.

Flying in the face of all the usual expectations of any fantasy story, they asked me what I needed, and all things considered I was happier with this result than the other.

Before long I had a small travel pack with some rations and was politely refused when I tried to pay.

In spite of my misgivings, I didn't argue. I might've not been comfortable taking what they gave but it didn't take long for me to figure out that this was more fearful obligation than any genuine generosity.

The reputation of cultivators and all that.

When I saw the poor state of the village, I put my foot down and paid for the medicine and bandages which the elder kindly helped me put on some new ones before I left.

And first thing was first, I needed to put as much room between me and the cultivator lifestyle as possible. No kung fu fights, young masters with their heads up their asses, just a simple life with simple goals.

By the time I was out of town, I had a better idea of what was next. First, I needed to get information on where I could put down some roots. And the only place I could really go to find that information was a town or city big enough to have a scholar's archive.

And thus, I began a journey through the most beautiful and unbelievable landscape I had ever seen in my life. From the elevation I was at, I could see out and beyond quite a ways.

The sheer magnificence of the land was breathtaking and I drank it in like a man lost in the desert.

It reminded me of every single national Park I'd ever seen all mixed together yet contrasting terrain which should've appeared uncanny or downright unsettling due to its impossibility stood alongside each other in complete natural harmony.

Verdant forested hills, stretching skyward to meet the snow-clad peaks of old mountains. At their feet were rolling meadows leading into grassy plains, flooded in sunlight which seemed... I don't know, purer maybe? Like the world was illuminated with a divine golden glow that was more real than the sun back home.

Huge forests along high, cloud piercing mountains in the distance, which loomed over rolling hills and grassland.

On top of it all, the sunlight was hitting everything in just the right way to make it all look like a painting.

Even the road I was taking was weaving along the Dragon's Blood River in a picturesque way, its sapphire waters like flowing Carribean blue tinted glass, shimmering in the morning light.

I paused to stare, leaning over it to get a better look to see the fish under the surface.

I probably would've been staring like an open mouth tourist if my eyes didn't adjust for me to catch my reflection.

To say I was confused was an understatement.

The face was Hou's... mine and while that should've been it, it wasn't the only change.

The junior cultivator's brown head of carefully combed and tied hair was gone, replaced with a wild mane of pure blazing orange which, as if on cue, let a loose bang droop in my face, inviting me to brush it away. I don't know how I missed it but

As I stood there examining myself, something about me checking my reflection stirred the back of my mind.

Then like a leak turning into a flood, Hou's memories crashed over me violently and, like a physical weight dropping on my shoulders, I fell to my knees.

Hou looking at himself in a polished silver mirror and adjusting his uniform the day of his acceptance. Senior Brother Teng sliding his foot 2 inches to the right as his muscles burned from holding the stance for so long. Gongmin's cheeky way he'd mimic the elders when they weren't looking, stroking an imaginary beard and puffing his chest out. And then there was Hou's own drive and ambition that had carried him this far. Memory after memory slammed into me and I did my best not to fight it.

With the way my head was pounding, I was pretty sure I would give myself a stroke if I tried.

I waited, keeping focus on the sound of running water as Hou's life flickered and flared like flames in my head.

When it finally died down, I was trembling in the grass, clutching my head, and sweating.

I groaned as my chest creaked and throbbed in displeasure as I gingerly rose to my feet.

So Hou's memories could overwhelm me. I guess when I was out cold and floating down the river, I managed to process them better.

One thing was for certain though, Hou loved the Bronze Throne sect.

I could be unfair and say he was just a little mindless idiot that never questioned the rules. Didn't think for himself. But no, he was just a kid. He was a passionate, caring young man who was screwed over at the worst time. 18 years old or not, he was raised to believe and if doing those things was what he was told to do to make the sect the best it could be, then he'd do it. No questions, no hesitation.

You could almost call that fervor... patriotic.

I scanned my surroundings, just to make sure I wasn't being watched. The road was as empty now as it was before.

I got into a rhythm as I continued my journey, falling into the kind of Zen which aches, and pains became distant.

I focused on the feeling of my clothes brushing against my skin, the slight slip of my sandals in the dirt, the sun warming my skin, measuring the throbbing from my chest, the uneven ground under my feet, the way the road smelled, the sound of the birds...

Cultivation, even at its most basic, was all about getting into the moment and staying in it.

And as a professional writer, I knew how to get into my moments.

It was already happening. I was slipping away into the tranquility of the moment and genuinely began to enjoy my journey.

It gave me time to come up with a better plan than simply walking in the direction labeled 'Away'. But if nothing else, I could keep walking. I could stay out of sight and preserve my energy, even as I kept searching.

Searching for somewhere safe. To find someplace away from the influence of cultivators. At least, far enough I had less of a chance of being dragged into it. Screw it, I was going to write by books in peace. All the wasted years of putting my ideas off and now here I was with a second chance.

I wasn't going to waste it.