Li Fan laid motionless for a while, his mind churning slowly, as if trying to catch up to the body it now occupied.
This world was different. It was harsh and unforgiving.
Cultivators were the rulers here—those who walked the path of immortality.
Below them, the common people toiled. Powerless. Obedient. Their lives worth less than spirit stones.
Li Fan—this Li Fan—had been born with poor spirit roots. He was lucky to have even entered a sect.
Cultivators talked of reaching the heavens, of defying fate and stepping beyond mortality.
But in truth? Most of them spent their lives just struggling to survive.
Then demons came into the picture.
The demonic cultivators who sacrificed others to grow stronger. The demonic beasts that prowled the wild lands beyond sect borders. The constant sect wars and resource conflicts that turned valleys into graveyards.
This world was not safe.
You lived if you were strong. You died if you were not.
In its own twisted way, it made sense.
And in that logic, Li Fan found a strange sort of clarity.
Earth had been no different, really. He had slaved away in an office for a paycheck that barely paid rent.
Watched healthier, richer, more talented people get promoted while he drank instant coffee and lied to his late mother about how "things were going great."
Here, at least, there was no illusion.
Strength was real. Tangible.
Cold as a blade, and just as sharp.
A bitter smile appeared on Li Fan's face.
His talent was truly pitiful.
Even in this world where strength reigned supreme, he had drawn the short straw again. On Earth, it was mediocrity. Here, it was spirit roots barely above useless.
Even at Qi Gathering Stage 2, he hadn't gotten there through comprehension or resources—but through sheer stubbornness.
Li Fan let out a long breath. Then, almost absent-mindedly, he closed his eyes and focused inward.
A faint ripple stirred within his consciousness.
And then—
[Status]
Name: Li Fan
Realm: Qi Gathering – Stage 2
[Skills]
[Clear Mind Breathing Technique – Beginner - 58/100]
[Flowing Leaf Sword Form – Beginner - 12/100]
[Stone Palm Technique – Beginner - 69/100]
[Exp: 0]
The familiar panel hovered in his mind's eye.
This was no unique gift. No secret cheat or otherworldly blessing.
Everyone who stepped onto the path of cultivation had one.
It was known across the continent as one of the Mystery of the Heavenly Dao—an invisible mark said to represent one's entry onto the immortal path.
Before a mortal's first successful breath of Qi, it didn't exist. But the moment one gathered spiritual energy into their body and stepped into the first realm of cultivation, it appeared.
An acknowledgment, perhaps. Proof that the heavens had allowed you to climb.
Li Fan couldn't help but snort weakly as he stared as his status.
"Mystery of the Heavenly Dao"?
To him, it felt more like a record book than anything else.
In his opinion, this great "mystery" was just a glorified identity marker. Something to prove you were, at the very least, not just another mortal.
Li Fan was just about to close his status when he suddenly paused.
There—tucked beneath the list of skills, where nothing should have been—was a new line.
[Exp: 0]
His breath caught.
EXP?
The letters sat there, harmless, almost innocent. But to someone who had spent the better part of his previous life glued to screens and game interfaces, it was like being hit with a brick.
On Earth, EXP had a meaning.
Experience Points.
Points gained from defeating enemies, completing tasks, progressing your character. In games, EXP meant growth. It meant leveling up.
But this wasn't Earth.
This was a cultivation world. There were no levels, only realms.
The concept of leveling up didn't exist here.
So why was it in his status?
He stared at the blinking number: 0.
Had it always been there?
He couldn't remember.
Normally, the Heavenly Dao panel was unchanging. It recorded your cultivation realm, skills, and in rare cases, traits or body-specific details. It had no use for numbers like "69/100".
And yet…
[Stone Palm Technique – Beginner – 69/100]
[Flowing Leaf Sword Form – 12/100]
[Exp: 0]
"...When did it start showing numbers?" Li Fan muttered.
He'd never seen this before.
In this world, the status panel didn't show things in numeric bars like this. It was always qualitative, not quantitative.
Cultivation techniques were measured in stages—"Entry," "Beginner," "Small Success," "Great Achievement," "Mastery," and finally, "Perfect." That was the norm. That was the only way it had ever been described, taught, shown, or understood.
Never something like "12 out of 100."
That wasn't how this world worked.
Li Fan leaned back against the wall, his heart beginning to race despite the pain in his side.
"Is this because I transmigrated?"
He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but there wasn't a better explanation.
Was it coincidence? A mutation? Some unknown heavenly cause?
Whatever it was, it wasn't normal.
But instead of fear, what he felt was excitement.
What if this was a turning point?
The thought crept into Li Fan mind and refused to leave.
The original Li Fan had talent so poor it was laughable. But if this—this strange shift in his status screen—was something only he could see, then perhaps… just perhaps…
He stared again at the [Exp: 0] at the bottom of the panel.
His eyes narrowed.
How do I even gain EXP?
The first answer that came to mind was the most obvious to most gamers.
Killing.
If this was following game logic, then EXP likely came from defeating things.
The thought didn't disturb Li Fan.
He had only been in the cultivation world for a little over two years, but that was more than enough. Time moved differently in a place where death was as common as morning dew and every stranger might be a threat.
Still, speculation could wait.
Right now, Li Fan didn't even know if the EXP bar worked.
He pushed those thoughts aside for now and focused on something more immediate—his skills.
There were only three listed. Before, they were just labels. Now they had numbers.
It didn't seem like much.
But it was everything.
"If this is how they're tracked now… does that mean they function differently too?"
He was tempted to test them all—but reality settled back in the moment he shifted his weight. His ribs groaned and his breathing caught short.
No sword forms today.
No breathing techniques either.
Though he had fully inherited the memories of the original owner, Li Fan didn't want to risk Cultivating with a bruised body.
He preferred to rest honestly.
That left one.
> [Stone Palm Technique – Beginner – 69/100]
The body technique. It required neither weapon nor Qi. Just muscle memory.