The project manager's sharp, grating questions were like a cold needle, piercing the office's calm facade. Almost every colleague hunched over a cubicle desk turned their gaze, openly or surreptitiously, toward Lin Fan's little corner. Their looks held schadenfreude, indifference, and a touch of sympathy for someone who'd met the same fate.
Lin Fan felt his face burning, as if all the blood in his body had rushed to his head. He clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms and bringing a sting that barely restrained the urge to smash his keyboard into the manager's face. He knew the manager was just using this as an excuse. The department had been under pressure to meet its targets lately, and they always needed a soft target to make an example of. With his mild temperament and lack of knack for office politics, Lin Fan was the perfect choice.
"The company hired you to get work done, not make excuses!" The manager's spittle nearly hit Lin Fan's face as he jabbed a finger at his nose. "It's a simple request, and you've dragged it out day after day! Do you even want to work here? If you don't, then get lost! There are plenty of people outside waiting to take your place!"
The air around them seemed to freeze. Lin Fan could hear his heart pounding frantically in his chest, thump, thump, thump, like a broken drum. Humiliation, anger, and the fear of losing the job he depended on for survival twisted together, nearly drowning him. He opened his mouth, wanting to explain the bizarre events of the previous night, wanting to say he hadn't delayed the work on purpose, but the words caught in his throat.
How could he explain? Should he say that a transmigrated sage had shown up at his apartment last night, and he'd been busy making him instant noodles, finding him a place to sleep, and dealing with thugs who'd crept up to his door in the middle of the night?
If he really said that, he'd probably be sent to a psychiatric hospital before the next second was out.
In the end, all he could do was lower his head and force out a few words through clenched teeth. "I'm sorry, Manager. I'll get right on it. I'll have it done by the end of the day."
"By the end of the day?" The manager scoffed, his voice full of contempt. "I'm giving you one last chance. Get the first draft to my inbox by twelve noon! Otherwise, you can forget about this month's performance bonus and your year-end bonus. You'd better think carefully about that!"
With that, he slapped Lin Fan's desk hard enough to make the water glass on it wobble, then turned and strode away with his nose in the air, leaving behind a suffocating silhouette.
The colleagues who'd been watching quickly turned their attention back to their work, as if nothing had happened. The coldness of the workplace was on full display.
Lin Fan sat stiffly in his chair, feeling as though all his strength had been drained away. He stared at the requirements document on his computer screen, only half finished. The dense text and charts looked like a foreign language, making his head spin.
Twelve noon... It was already half past nine. He had only two and a half hours left.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to focus. His fingers trembled as he set them on the keyboard and began to type. He had to finish it, no matter what! He couldn't lose this job. There was rent, utilities, and living expenses to pay, and... that "ancestor" he'd just picked up at home, who looked like he'd be difficult to take care of...
The moment he thought of Tong Tian, Lin Fan's thoughts grew even more chaotic. Was it really okay to leave him home alone? Would he get up to something else? Would he know how to use that old phone? What if...
Thoughts sprouted like weeds in his mind, seriously disrupting his work. Time ticked away, but the document progressed at a snail's pace.
Meanwhile, in Lin Fan's cramped rental apartment...
Tong Tian still sat cross-legged on the yoga mat by the wall, eyes half closed and breathing slow and steady. The morning light passed through the curtains, gilding him with a faint golden glow.
But beneath his calm exterior, his mind was far from peaceful.
He tried to circulate the Supreme Clarity Immortal Formula, but his dantian and qi sea were like a desert dried up completely. He couldn't sense even a trace of Celestial Essence. His divine sense reached out, only to sink into a quagmire, firmly restrained by some invisible barrier of this world—so solid it was enough to drive one to despair. At most, he could vaguely make out the shapes of the table, chairs, dishes, and chopsticks in the room. He could barely even sense what was happening in the neighboring apartment.
For Master Tongtian, who could once envelop the entire Primordial Era with a single thought and see across the Three Realms and Six Paths, what a stifling, helpless feeling it was!
What annoyed him even more was the "turbid energy" filling the air. It wasn't filth, but something... dead. Spiritual energy was so scarce it might as well not exist, replaced by a sluggish, chaotic energy field that he couldn't absorb and instinctively repelled. Spending too long in such an environment made him feel like a fish out of water. Even maintaining his most basic bodily functions had become difficult.
He stopped his futile attempt at meditation and slowly opened his eyes, looking at the "old phone" Lin Fan had left for him before going out.
The rectangular "magical artifact" lay quietly on the table, its screen black.
Recalling how Lin Fan had used it, Tong Tian reached out and tapped the round button beneath the screen with his fingertip, imitating him.
The screen lit up at once, displaying the time and date, along with a lock screen that required a swipe.
Tong Tian raised an eyebrow slightly. This object was indeed wondrous. It didn't need spiritual energy to activate; a thought—touch, in this case—was enough.
He tried swiping his finger across the screen.
The phone unlocked, revealing a few simple icons: calls, messages, and a basic browser Lin Fan had downloaded for him to read the news.
His gaze first fell on the phone icon. Long-distance communication... Was this another form of the thousand-mile voice transmission technique? He tapped it. The interface was simple, with only a number pad, a green call button, and the number Lin Fan had set up for himself.
Tong Tian didn't make a call without thinking it through. Instead, he looked toward the browser icon and tapped it.
The browser's homepage was the news page of some portal Lin Fan had set as his default. In an instant, the screen filled with a flood of images and headlines!
Celebrity's Possible Romance Exposed!
International Oil Prices Fluctuate Again!
<New Subway Line to Open in the City, Benefiting Nearby Residents!>
All kinds of bizarre information, bright colors, and exaggerated headlines surged at Tong Tian, overwhelming his senses and understanding.
His brow furrowed deeply.
Thanks to the foundation of his sage-level true spirit, he could just barely understand what the words meant, but their style and content made him deeply uncomfortable. It was all trivial nonsense, with not a trace of the Great Dao's true meaning! The images showed people dressed provocatively—in his eyes—with frivolous manners, in luxurious but hollow settings...
Was this what the mortals of this world cared about?
Jumbled, chaotic, shallow, and full of desire and ignorance.
It ran completely counter to the Great Dao he pursued: seizing a sliver of heavenly opportunity and transcending the world in freedom!
He tapped open a news story about a "rare celestial phenomenon discovered in a certain place." It included a short video. When he saw that the thin "magical artifact" could actually display moving images of shifting clouds and flashes of lightning, astonishment flickered through his eyes once more.
Though the mortals of this world couldn't move mountains or overturn seas, they had reached an incredible level in the art of "devices." They could record and recreate the sights of heaven and earth with such a sophisticated object?
Could this count as another kind of "peering into heavenly secrets"?
But it was only surface-level observation, without any understanding of the essence.
He patiently browsed a few more stories, trying to learn more about this world. Politics, economics, technology, entertainment... A flood of unfamiliar terms and concepts poured into his mind, giving him a hazy, jumbled first impression of the place—a "land without spiritual energy," governed by very different rules and an unusual course of development, where its people were immersed in material pleasures and numbed their minds.
Just as he was about to close the "mind-disturbing" magical artifact, an inconspicuous news blurb labeled "Local" caught his eye.
<Police Advisory: Several attempted nighttime break-ins following victims home have occurred in the city recently. The suspect is still at large. Residents are advised to stay alert...>
At night... Following someone... Breaking in...
A cold glint flashed through Tong Tian's deep eyes.
He recalled the noisy "ants" outside the window the previous night.
So this kind of behavior was a "crime" in this world too? It seemed that although this world's laws were different, it still had a basic order of its own.
He put down the phone and paid no more attention to the jumble of information. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the window. Though his divine sense couldn't reach far, his naked eyes could still see the ceaseless flow of steel vehicles along the street below and the dense cluster of high-rises in the distance.
This was a crowded, noisy mortal world, yet one that ran with precision according to some kind of order.
And he and Lin Fan were like two tiny specks of dust that had accidentally fallen into this intricate machine.
Lin Fan in particular.
Tong Tian recalled the events from last night to the present. This mortal was weak and insignificant, scrambling to make a living. A few words could frighten him into panic, yet when Tong Tian had been at his weakest and most bewildered, he had given him basic food and shelter.
The food was heavy with "turbid energy," and the shelter was cramped and shabby, but that tiny bit of kindness seemed... different in this unfamiliar place.
He was the orthodox successor of Pangu, a direct disciple of Hongjun, and the master of the Interception Sect. He had roamed the Primordial Era for countless eons. When had he ever received kindness from an ant?
The debt of karma had already been incurred.
He simply didn't know how he would settle it in the future.
He closed his eyes once more, no longer sensing the world around him. Instead, he focused his attention inward. Though his power had vanished, the true spirit of a sage, his understanding of the rules of the Great Dao—even if they clashed with this world's rules—and the peerless sword intent he had nurtured for countless years hadn't been completely extinguished. They had only been greatly suppressed and sealed away.
Perhaps... he could start there?
He began to try—not to summon his power, but to reach out with his thoughts and nurture the trace of sword intent hidden deep within the source of his soul.
Like carefully kindling a tiny spark in endless darkness.
Back at the company, Lin Fan was racing against time.
His fingers flew across the keyboard, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. He'd already put together the framework of the requirements document and was now filling in the details and refining the logic. Some of his colleagues had started discussing what to eat for lunch. The clatter of keyboards, quiet conversations, and the occasional phone ringing all became background noise interfering with his concentration.
It was half past eleven.
All that remained was to organize and explain the core logic! Lin Fan gulped down a large mouthful of cold coffee, trying to calm his agitated mind.
Just then, his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket.
Lin Fan's heart gave a jolt. Who was calling him at a time like this? He pulled it out and saw the number flashing on the screen. It was the backup number he'd left with Tong Tian!
Why was he calling? Had something happened?
Lin Fan's heart shot up into his throat. He glanced at the time in the bottom-right corner of the screen, then at the nearly finished document. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his phone and hurried toward the stairwell.
He answered and lowered his voice, asking urgently, "Hello? Brother Tong Tian? What's wrong? Did something happen?"
There was silence on the other end for several seconds. The only sound was a faint, steady breath.
Just as Lin Fan thought the signal was bad and was about to ask again, Tong Tian's distinctive, emotionless voice came through, slightly distorted by the phone connection.
"Nothing."
Lin Fan: "...?"
If nothing was wrong, why call?! Things were nearly on fire over here!
He fought back the urge to complain and patiently asked, "Are you sure nothing's wrong? You didn't touch the gas stove, did you? You didn't go outside?"
"I did not," Tong Tian replied just as tersely. "I merely... tested whether this 'magical artifact' worked."
Lin Fan nearly choked. He felt like he was on the verge of a heart attack. Brother! I'm racing against death at work, and you're testing phone features at home?!
"It works! It works perfectly!" Lin Fan practically ground out the words. "Brother Tong Tian, I have some very urgent work to handle at the company. It's really important! It's related to my... well, my livelihood! Can you wait until I get home to try it?"
There was another pause on the other end, as if Tong Tian were trying to understand what "livelihood" meant. A moment later, he said one word:
"Fine."
Then the call ended, leaving nothing but a busy signal.
Lin Fan stood in the empty stairwell with his phone in hand, feeling as if he were about to collapse. He leaned against the cold wall and took a few deep breaths before he could rein in the urge to curse.
He couldn't waste any more time! He looked at the clock. It was 11:40! He had only twenty minutes left!
He rushed back to his desk like a gust of wind and threw himself into the battle with code and logic. He'd need to pick up the thread of his thoughts where the phone call had interrupted them, and the lack of time made his scalp prickle.
Finally, at 11:58, Lin Fan clicked the send button with a trembling hand.
When the "Sent successfully" notification appeared, he slumped back in his chair, drenched in sweat as if he'd just been fished out of the water.
He'd made it... He'd finally made it...
He closed his eyes wearily, feeling as if his mind had gone blank.
But before he could even finish relaxing, a mocking voice sounded beside him.
"Well, Lin Fan, did you send the requirements? Looks like putting pressure on you really does improve your efficiency."
Lin Fan opened his eyes and saw that the project manager had somehow wandered back over. He stood beside him with his arms crossed and a sickeningly fake smile on his face.
"Manager, I've sent the first draft to your inbox," Lin Fan said listlessly, unable even to force out a polite smile.
"Mm, I saw it." The manager spoke slowly and showed no sign of leaving. Instead, he leaned closer and lowered his voice, though his tone was unmistakably threatening. "You've passed this time, Lin Fan. But you need to know your place. The company doesn't keep deadweight, and it doesn't keep people who don't understand the 'rules.' I don't want to see any more 'accidents' next time. Understood?"
The meaningful look in his eyes pricked Lin Fan like a needle. The so-called "rules" were nothing more than a demand that he become even more submissive, or perhaps an implication that he needed to offer a little "something" in return.
Lin Fan clenched his fists again, anger rushing to his head. But when he looked at the manager's smug, brazen face and thought about the mortgage, his living expenses, and the ancestor at home whom he still needed to "support," the courage that had just begun to rise in him deflated like a punctured balloon.
He lowered his eyes and answered quietly, "...Understood."
The manager patted him on the shoulder, not gently. "Good. I have another meeting this afternoon. Get ready for it." Then, finally satisfied, he turned and walked away.
Lin Fan sat there, feeling as if he'd lost a battle, drained of strength. Physical exhaustion would pass, but this mental oppression and humiliation clung to him like a bone-deep parasite, gnawing at his dignity.
He glanced at the chat window on his computer screen, now dimmed. It was proof that he'd just sent the email. He'd finished the work, but he felt no sense of accomplishment—only deeper exhaustion and confusion.
When would days like these finally end?
Inside the rental apartment, Tong Tian set down the "old phone."
He wasn't unfamiliar with the ways of the world. He could hear the anxiety and tension Lin Fan had tried so hard to suppress during their call.
"Livelihood..." He murmured the word. It seemed Lin Fan's circumstances in this world weren't as stable as they appeared. That place called a "company" seemed to have some kind of... oppression?
He thought of the Interception Sect he had founded. It welcomed all beings, seizing a glimmer of hope for them. Some of his disciples had been unruly, others had humble origins, but when had they ever been put in such a humiliating position? If one of his disciples had been bullied like that, he would have already cleaved the bully's mountain gate apart with a single sword!
If only...
He looked at his current state, "unable to harm even a chicken," and his eyes dimmed slightly.
Now he couldn't even protect himself, let alone do anything for this mortal who had offered him "a glimmer of hope." At least, not yet.
No, perhaps it wasn't entirely impossible.
He closed his eyes again. This time, he no longer tried to reach out to the elusive Celestial Essence or expand his imprisoned divine sense. Instead, he gathered every thought and all his spirit, like a hundred rivers flowing into the sea, and concentrated them at a single point—behind his tightly shut eyes.
He was stirring up that peerless sword intent, rooted in the very essence of his soul and belonging to the "Master Tongtian of Shangqing"!
This wasn't the use of energy, but the manifestation of will, the mark of the "Dao"!
The process was excruciatingly difficult, like moving an arm through glue or straightening his back beneath a thousand-ton boulder. The rules of this world rejected and suppressed him, making it difficult for his extraordinary nature to reveal itself.
But his will was unbreakable. That was the sage's heart, tempered by immeasurable tribulations without ever being destroyed!
A trace—nothing more than a trace—of a sharpness too faint to detect began to coalesce and take shape deep within his tightly closed eyes.
It wasn't light or heat, but the very concept of "severing," the intent to "destroy."
Time slipped by silently.
No one knew how long had passed when Lin Fan dragged his soul-weary body home and unlocked the door with his key. Inside, he saw Tong Tian still seated cross-legged on the mat, meditating.
He seemed no different from when Lin Fan had left that morning.
Lin Fan sighed, tossed his briefcase onto a chair, and didn't even have the strength to speak. All he wanted was to collapse into bed and sleep until the end of time.
But just as he passed Tong Tian, about to get himself a glass of water—
Tong Tian opened his eyes without warning.
It was as if two invisible bolts of lightning had suddenly flashed in the dim room!
Lin Fan froze in place. It was as though someone had cast a binding spell on him, and his blood seemed to stop flowing in an instant!
His eyes met Tong Tian's.
They were no longer as deep as an ancient well, nor did they occasionally flicker with curiosity and interest.
Deep within those eyes, countless sword shadows, each so fine as to be almost imperceptible, seemed to appear and vanish, intertwine, and spiral! They weren't real, yet they emanated a terrifying intent—to pierce the void, sever karma, and destroy all laws! It was cold, pure, and supreme!
The moment that gaze swept over him, Lin Fan felt as though his soul had been stripped bare and thrown into a frozen wasteland. It was as if countless invisible swords were pointed at him, ready to grind him into his most basic particles the next instant! An ultimate fear, rooted in the instincts of life itself, seized his heart, leaving him unable to breathe or think!
What... what was this?!
Lin Fan's mind went blank. He had only one thought: he was going to die! He was going to die the very next second!
The sensation came and went just as quickly.
At the moment Lin Fan thought he was about to break, the countless sword shadows deep in Tong Tian's eyes quietly vanished like an illusion, leaving them deep and tranquil once more. It was as if the sword intent that had seemed capable of destroying heaven and earth had never existed.
But the cold sweat that had instantly covered Lin Fan, and the trembling deep in his soul that he still couldn't control, told him clearly that it hadn't been an illusion!
Tong Tian looked at Lin Fan, whose face was pale and whose body was swaying as if he might fall. He seemed to realize what had happened and furrowed his brow slightly. His tone remained calm. "I... had a moment of insight just now and failed to rein in my aura."
A moment of insight?!
Lin Fan opened his mouth but found his throat so dry that not a sound came out. He braced himself against the table, barely managing to keep from collapsing. He looked at Tong Tian, his eyes filled with a shock—and awe—he'd never felt before.
He was now one hundred percent certain that the "ancestor" he'd picked up wasn't some actor from a film crew or some martial arts expert!
That swordlight in his eyes... That terrifying sword intent, almost tangible... This was a power beyond the limits of mortal imagination!
Who was he?! Where had he come from?!
After saying that, Tong Tian paid no more attention to Lin Fan's shock. He closed his eyes again, apparently savoring and consolidating his insight from gathering that "trace" of sword intent.
It was faint, but undeniably a good start. In this "land without spiritual energy," he might have found another way to recover and adapt.
Only, this method seemed... rather unfriendly to the mortals around him.
A deathly silence settled over the room.
Lin Fan leaned against the table and gasped for air, still shaken. He watched Tong Tian enter meditation again, and a thought rose irresistibly in his mind—
Was keeping someone like him around, someone whose eyes could suddenly brim with swordlight and whose aura could terrify people to death, a blessing... or a disaster?
Just then, the phone in Lin Fan's briefcase on the chair rang abruptly, shattering the suffocating silence.
The ringtone rang persistently. An unfamiliar local number appeared on the screen.
Lin Fan's heart, not yet fully recovered from the fright, clenched at the sudden ringing.
A bad feeling, like a cold snake, quietly coiled around his heart.
Before you continue