A Precarious Situation

Endless Sea, Rosy Cloud Island.

Early morning.

In a small bluestone courtyard.

Wang Mengde sat on a stone bench, watching his busy little sister-in-law, his expression somewhat dazed.

In truth, only yesterday.

He had still been an Earthling, enjoying the air conditioning, scrolling short videos, and watching pretty girls dance.

If nothing unexpected happened, then for Wang Mengde—a twenty-nine-year-old single dog without a girlfriend—this would have been another comfortable, carefree weekend.

Who would have thought that after waking from a single sleep, he would arrive in this immortal cultivation world, where demons ran rampant, ghosts appeared and vanished, and cultivators roamed unchecked.

Powerful cultivators could live for tens of thousands of years and move mountains and overturn seas.

Yet none of that had anything to do with him.

This body, which shared his exact name, had terrible talent. It possessed only a false five-element spirit root, barely enough to cultivate.

At twenty-five, its cultivation was still only at the first level of Qi Refinement. It had learned merely three most basic spells for gathering from the sea and fishing, all only at the beginner level.

To survive, he either combed the shore for shrimp, crabs, snails, and shellfish, or took a small spirit skiff out to fish in the nearby waters.

After deducting the exorbitant rent from his monthly earnings, he could only barely make ends meet.

He could not even afford the lowest-grade spirit rice, much less pills to improve his cultivation.

The trade of shore gathering and fishing was not only poor and grueling, but dangerous as well.

The original owner's father, who had been at the third level of Qi Refinement and had more experience, had gone out to sea to fish five years ago and never returned. There had been no word of him since.

As for the original owner himself, just the day before yesterday, his fishhook had accidentally caught a demonic fish at the first realm of Lesser Demon.

In the end, he had failed to reel in the fish and had instead been struck in the chest by a blast of foul-smelling demonic aura it spat out. He endured the agonizing pain and made it home, only to fall asleep and never wake again.

When Wang Mengde awoke in this body and absorbed its memories, his heart turned ice-cold.

He did not want to transmigrate.

The house he had bought with a loan had just been renovated. He had only lived in it for three days.

How had he ended up in this dangerous world, where no one knew whether they would live to see tomorrow?

Even if he absolutely had to transmigrate, why could he not have started out as a genius?

Why had he instead become such a destitute bottom-tier fishing cultivator, with abysmal talent and the chance of being buried in a fish's belly at any moment?

Sitting in the courtyard, Wang Mengde subconsciously touched his chest.

His skin was intact, without a wound, yet he seemed still able to feel that bone-chilling cold and stabbing pain.

This world was far too dangerous.

"Brother-in-law, Brother-in-law, breakfast is ready." A crisp voice rang out, interrupting Wang Mengde's chaotic, despairing thoughts.

He answered and headed toward the low main room.

His little sister-in-law was named Shen Qingyue. Her parents had died young, and when she was ten, she had followed her older sister Shen Qingxue to the Wang household.

Wang Mengde's wife, Shen Qingxue, had begun to despise him as useless after testing positive for a three-element spirit root.

Two years ago, she had become the disciple of a female cultivator from the Evergreen Sect and had never returned.

That left only the original owner and this little sister-in-law, relying on each other for survival on Rosy Cloud Island.

Wang Mengde entered the room and sat down beside an old wooden table.

The food on the table was simple: two bowls of rice, a plate of steamed unknown small fish, a plate of stir-fried shredded meat, and a plate of stir-fried wild vegetables.

It looked fairly good, but it was all ordinary food without a trace of spiritual energy.

For cultivators, it was far too shabby.

At that moment, his little sister-in-law Shen Qingyue came over carrying a steaming basin of fish soup.

Shen Qingyue had an exceptionally lovely face, with delicate, fair skin that even the sea wind could not roughen.

Her eyes and brows were lively and clear, her nose high and graceful. Though she wore no powder or makeup, she possessed the fresh vitality unique to a young girl by the sea.

She wore a faded gray cloth dress, washed until it had turned pale, with a cloth sash around her waist that outlined a slender curve.

At her chest, the fabric had quietly been pushed into tender, full curves. They were not exaggerated, yet they already revealed the promise of a flower bud about to bloom—the sign of youth beginning to blossom.

She carefully placed the soup basin in the center of the table, steam misting over her delicate face.

"Brother-in-law, have a bowl of soup first to warm yourself up."

Shen Qingyue filled a bowl to the brim with milky-white fish soup and carefully placed it before Wang Mengde, her movements gentle.

Then she picked up her chopsticks and kept putting the few shreds of meat into Wang Mengde's bowl. "Brother-in-law, you've only just recovered from serious injuries. You need to eat more meat and nourish your body."

Her eyes were full of concern, yet she herself picked up only a few strands of wild vegetables.

Warmth rose in Wang Mengde's heart. The panic of transmigrating and unease toward this unfamiliar world were both diluted somewhat by his little sister-in-law's care.

He picked up his chopsticks and transferred more than half the shredded meat from his bowl back into Shen Qingyue's. "You should eat more too. You're still growing. Look how thin you are."

Shen Qingyue froze for a moment. Looking at the meat in her bowl, threads of warmth welled up in her heart.

Just then.

Heavy knocking sounded at the door.

Bang.

Bang bang bang.

"Wang Mengde, open up."

"Wang Mengde, did you die in there?"

"Open the damn door already! You hiding inside and playing dead?"

A rough, ferocious male voice shouted outside.

Hearing the voice, Shen Qingyue's heart skipped a beat. She grabbed Wang Mengde's arm. "Brother-in-law, from the sound of it... it seems to be Chen the Pockmarked and his people."

She explained quickly, speaking rapidly, her eyes full of anxiety. "Brother-in-law, I haven't had time to tell you yet. Yesterday, after you passed out, no matter how I called you, you wouldn't wake up. Your face was bluish-black, and you were barely breathing. I was terrified.

"Then Chen the Pockmarked came by and said he had a life-saving Soul-Returning Healing Pill. I used our family's spirit skiff as collateral and borrowed that pill from him.

"We clearly agreed that we would repay it a month later. Why... why have they come to our door today?"

Wang Mengde could feel the hand gripping his arm trembling slightly. He reached over and gently patted the back of her hand. "Don't panic. I'll go ask what's going on. Stay inside."

With that, he rose, took a deep breath, and headed for the courtyard gate.

The courtyard gate opened.

Two burly men stood outside.

The leader was at the second level of Qi Refinement. His dark face was covered in pockmarks, and his gaze was vicious. He was none other than the notorious Chen the Pockmarked.

Behind him stood his younger brother, Chen Two-Tiger, at the first level of Qi Refinement. He was likewise broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, with an unfriendly expression.

When the two saw Wang Mengde, they both visibly froze. A flash of astonishment and confusion crossed their eyes.

He wasn't dead?

That so-called Soul-Returning Healing Pill they had given Shen Qingyue was made from old spirit rice mixed with ordinary mashed yam and kneaded into a pill. It would not kill anyone, but it certainly could not heal serious injuries caused by demonic aura invading the body.

Perhaps Wang Mengde's injuries had not been serious to begin with, only frightening to look at?

Chen the Pockmarked quickly came back to his senses. The flesh on his face twitched as he opened his mouth and cursed, "Wang Mengde, are you deaf or did your legs break? We knocked for so long before you opened up. Were you hiding inside incubating eggs?"

"Brother Chen, calm down, calm down. Your little brother was eating just now and didn't know Brother Chen had honored us with his presence. Forgive me for failing to welcome you properly." Wang Mengde greeted him with a smile and stepped aside. "Two brothers, please come in. Let's talk inside."

Chen the Pockmarked snorted through his nose and swaggered into the small courtyard, with Chen Two-Tiger following close behind.

The two entered the main room, their gazes sweeping without restraint over the crude furnishings and simple food on the table.

Finally, their eyes landed on Shen Qingyue, whose face had gone pale as she forced herself to remain calm, and they gave her a few extra looks laden with ill intent.

Chen the Pockmarked carelessly sat down on an empty stool by the table, pulled an IOU stamped with a fingerprint from his robes, and slapped it onto the table in front of Wang Mengde.

"Look carefully. Black words on white paper. Your little sister-in-law Shen Qingyue used your family's old spirit skiff as collateral,

and borrowed one Soul-Returning Healing Pill from me, Chen the Pockmarked.

We agreed that after one month, principal and interest together,

she would repay me five lower-grade spirit stones. If she can't repay it."

His finger jabbed at the words "collateral" on the IOU. "Then your family's spirit skiff belongs to me."