Ah! Ziyan, are you serious?!"
Rong Yu groaned in pain, clutching the back of his head as if struck by a hammer. The piercing ache overwhelmed his senses, leaving him reeling. Slowly, he opened his eyes, only to find himself in a completely unfamiliar environment.
The ten-square-meter hall lay in shambles. Overturned tables and broken chairs were strewn across the floor, and a toppled bronze furnace sat in the center, its lid ajar. Several light-yellow pills rolled near the edge of the room, glinting faintly in the dim light.
Rong Yu blinked, his confusion mounting. Wasn't he just in his luxurious office back on Blue Star, sharing a playful moment with his secretary? How had he ended up in this chaotic, dilapidated space?
Before he could make sense of his surroundings, a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him, and the world spun violently.
When the sensation subsided, Rong Yu's mind was suddenly flooded with unfamiliar memories.
"Jiang Country... Yunzhou... Qianbo Lake... Rong family... Cultivation..."
Murmuring the words aloud, Rong Yu’s expression shifted from disbelief to awe. He had transmigrated to another world—a world of cultivators!
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From the fragments of memory now ingrained in his mind, Rong Yu pieced together the story of his new identity.
The original owner of this body shared his name—Rong Yu. Born into the Rong family, a prestigious clan of cultivators, he had been hailed as a prodigy due to his rare lightning spiritual root. However, his gift came with a flaw. His spiritual root was incomplete, a defect that hindered his cultivation progress and reduced him to mediocrity.
Once celebrated as the family’s great hope, Rong Yu had been showered with resources to support his growth. Yet, years of effort yielded little progress. By the age of twenty-five, he had barely reached the third stage of Qi Refinement, a level even ordinary cultivators surpassed with ease.
His slow progress shattered the family’s expectations. Experts were called in to examine him, and the truth of his flawed spiritual root was revealed. No matter how many resources he consumed, his potential was forever capped.
With his value diminished, the family’s support dwindled. Rong Yu became a target of ridicule among his peers, his former glory reduced to a cruel joke.
Unwilling to give up, he turned to alchemy, hoping to reclaim his status by becoming the family’s alchemist. But the art of alchemy was demanding, requiring both talent and a steady supply of costly spiritual materials. Despite years of effort, Rong Yu’s alchemical skills remained rudimentary.
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To make matters worse, his parents—once his strongest supporters—were ambushed and killed during a war with the rival Qian family. Left with no allies and mounting debts, Rong Yu’s desperation led him to make a dangerous bet with Rong Xianyu, the family’s infamous Fifth Elder.
The terms were simple: if he could become a recognized family alchemist within a year, his debt would be forgiven. If he failed, he would become her dual cultivation cauldron for three months.
Despite his best efforts, Rong Yu’s predecessor failed to fulfill the bet. Exhausted and hopeless, he succumbed to despair, leaving behind a broken body for Rong Yu to inherit.
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As the memories settled, Rong Yu sat in stunned silence, processing the gravity of his situation.
A mixture of excitement and dread coursed through him. The prospect of living in a world of cultivation thrilled him. Here, individuals wielded unimaginable power, shaping mountains and rivers with a wave of their hand. High-level cultivators enjoyed lifespans stretching for centuries, even millennia.
But his joy was tempered by the harsh reality of his circumstances. His new body was weak, burdened by a defective spiritual root and mired in debt. Worse still, he had only one month to avoid becoming a tool for the infamous Rong Xianyu.
“I’ve really landed myself in a mess…” he muttered, shaking his head.
A sudden knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
Rong Yu froze, his heart pounding. Through the fragmented memories, he knew the original Rong Yu had grown reclusive, avoiding most interactions. Whoever was outside wasn’t likely here with good intentions.
The knocking grew louder, accompanied by a sharp female voice.
"Rong Yu! You can’t hide forever! If you don’t open this door in ten breaths, I’ll break it down myself!"
Rong Yu clenched his fists, feeling the weight of the decision before him. He couldn’t afford to draw unwanted attention, but neither could he continue hiding.
Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and moved toward the door.
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Standing on the other side was a young woman in a green dress, her arms crossed and a scornful expression on her face. Behind her was a man in a blue robe, his dark eyes gleaming with schadenfreude.
“Finally decided to show yourself, huh?” the woman sneered. “Rong Yu, have you forgotten your bet with the Fifth Elder? Or do you think you can weasel your way out of it by hiding?”
Rong Yu’s mind raced as he recalled the bet’s terms. He managed a weak smile. “I still have a month, don’t I?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “A month won’t make a difference. You’ve already failed the family’s alchemy assessment. You might as well accept your fate and prepare to serve the Fifth Elder!”
The man in the blue robe chuckled, his voice dripping with mockery. “Don’t forget to clean yourself up first, cousin. You reek of failure.”
Rong Yu’s fists tightened at their words, but he forced himself to remain calm. Deep down, he knew they weren’t wrong. His predecessor’s failure had left him with nothing but debts and humiliation.
But now, as a transmigrator with the knowledge and determination of his previous life, he refused to accept defeat.
“I’ll figure something out,” he muttered, his eyes flickering with resolve.
As the pair left, their laughter echoing in the distance, Rong Yu turned back to the alchemy furnace. The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear—he wouldn’t give up without a fight.