"...Fellow cultivator?" Someone called softly to her in the darkness.
So noisy. She had pulled an all-nighter studying and just wanted to catch up on sleep, but now even that was being disturbed. How annoying. That voice, though... it didn’t sound familiar at all.
"Fellow cultivator, if you don’t wake up soon, we’ll both die."
What nonsense? Some kid must be going through their chuunibyou phase. But the tone was convincing—"fellow cultivator"? Was he imitating a character from some xianxia novel? Or was this some drama club rehearsal?
"I’m not joking. We only have two hours left."
A sudden flash of firelight tore through the darkness like lightning, jolting Bai Li awake from her deep slumber. Her clothes were soaked in cold sweat, and the chill of the night slithered up her spine like a snake. She shuddered.
Darkness.
Nothing but darkness met her eyes. The sudden shock left her brain starved of blood, her vision blurred. Slowly, the surroundings came into focus.
An enclosed dark space. The shapes of windows on either side, faint yellow light seeping through the cracks, casting the shadows of window grilles on the floor.
Bai Li tried to stand and open a window to see where she was, but soon realized both her hands were tightly bound. Worse, she must have been kneeling here for a long time—every nerve in her body ached as if crushed under a chariot.
If this was a play rehearsal, it was far too realistic. No ordinary university club could pull off a setup like this. Her hands were stiff, meaning she’d been tied up motionless for at least an hour. Her body was weak too, as if she’d been drugged with knockout medicine. Were they abusing the actors? A horrifying thought struck her—had she stumbled into some shady underground production run by gangsters?
She struggled against the ropes like in the movies, but it was useless. The ropes only tightened further, biting into her flesh.
"If you don’t want your hands crushed, stop moving."
The voice from her dream spoke up behind her. Only then did Bai Li realize someone was there—a boy, judging by the youthful tone.
"Crushed?" She shivered.
"The more you struggle, the tighter these ropes get. If our hands are ruined by then—" His light, teasing tone hung in the air, as if deliberately toying with her suspense before he finished, "—we won’t be worth keeping alive."
"You’re... joking, right?" Bai Li forced herself to accept the situation, but it was all too absurd.
"Fellow cultivator, have you never heard of the Wen Clan of Longzhou? We’re currently in their territory."
Longzhou... Wen Clan?
Wait, that name sounded familiar. It was from a xianxia novel she’d recently read.
Bai Li finally understood where she was. It seemed she’d joined the ranks of transmigrators—those who found themselves inside the worlds of books. And the novel she’d landed in had the blandest title imaginable: The Long Road to Immortality.
What had drawn her to the story in the first place was its refreshingly straightforward romance. No messy love triangles or over-the-top "I’d betray the world for you" nonsense. The protagonists were childhood sweethearts, their bond unbreakable, and every trial they faced only strengthened their devotion.
It was the kind of pure, unwavering love story that evoked classics like The Return of the Condor Heroes.
As for the Wen Clan of Longzhou, they were minor but notable antagonists in the book. On the surface, they were major investors in the Moonveil Pavilion, dealing in elixirs and cultivation manuals. But behind the scenes, they were ruthless—abducting beautiful young men and women to auction off as cultivation cauldrons.
The female lead, Ling Yanyan, and the male lead, Jiang Biehan, belonged to the foremost immortal sect in the land. When they learned of the Wen Clan’s crimes, their sect sent disciples to eradicate them. During the mission, Ling Yanyan was captured, but Jiang Biehan arrived just in time to rescue her in a thrilling hero-saves-the-damsel moment.
Unfortunately, Bai Li hadn’t finished the book. She’d only skimmed spoilers online—predictably, the good guys won, the bad guys lost, and the happy ending felt disappointingly clichéd.
But that wasn’t the point.
The point was, in this part of the story, Ling Yanyan had Jiang Biehan to save her.
But Bai Li... had no one.
Yes, she remembered now. The name "Bai Li" had barely been mentioned in the novel. The original owner of this body was a disciple of the Medicine Sect, with only a single line of relevance—like a background extra in a Marvel movie, cheering tearfully as the heroes kissed amidst the ruins at dawn.
...How utterly forgettable. Did she transmigrate just to start from zero in another world, only to be cannon fodder at any moment?
The shadows of fire danced wildly on the paper windows. The night wind carried raucous laughter—the Wen Clan disciples escorting them were drinking and bragging outside, discussing how much the "new goods" in the carriage would fetch at auction, and how many girls’ kisses they could buy with the profits.
It all hammered home the reality: this wasn’t a dream or a game.
But since this was a transmigration scenario, maybe she had a system. Bai Li tried summoning it.
"System, system, time to tell me—is my cheat power to break these ropes, or to annihilate those villains with a snap of my fingers?"
"First principle: Do not disrupt the world’s logic. Second principle: Do not disrupt the plot’s progression. Third principle: Do not disrupt character settings. Beyond that, the host is free to act."
To her surprise, the system’s cold electronic voice responded. But... free to act? What kind of nonsense was that? Without a cheat, how was she supposed to escape?
"What am I even here for? A one-day isekai tour?" Bai Li asked despairingly.
"Host, your mission is to locate the villain... and then, win him over." The emotionless voice somehow managed to sound grave. With that, the red light in the darkness flickered and vanished.
Find the villain and win him over? Could this get any more unreliable? Survival was already uncertain—how was she supposed to hunt down some big bad now? Bai Li felt hope slipping further away.
"Fellow cultivator?"
"Huh? What?" She snapped back to attention.
"I need your help. This way, both of us... might live." The boy behind her spoke.
A spark of hope flared. Bai Li rallied her spirits. "You have an escape plan?"
"Only a chance. But you’ll have to trust me."
Bai Li paused. She didn’t know this stranger behind her—couldn’t even see his face. But her unfamiliarity with this world left her no choice. Rather than panicking blindly, the advice of someone native to this world might be her best bet.
"Tell me, I'll do anything," she said, her voice tight with tension.
"There's a dagger hidden in my sleeve, but in my current state, I can't reach it. I’ll need your help, fellow cultivator."
How fortunate it was to have a reliable companion in adversity! Bai Li’s worry instantly turned to relief. "You should’ve said so earlier—I can get it for you!"
He let out a soft laugh, crisp and clear like an icy spring cascading from the heavens.
"What are you laughing at?" Bai Li asked, puzzled.
"Because you were sound asleep, fellow cultivator. No matter how much I called, you wouldn’t wake."
Bai Li’s face burned with embarrassment. How mortifying. She never usually slept so deeply—this had to be the fault of crossing over in her dreams.
"It’s tucked inside the binding on my arm. They didn’t find it during the search." A loose strand of his high-tied hair brushed against Bai Li’s neck, soft and utterly unthreatening. "Hold the blade steady. This is our last chance."
This was their last chance.
Bai Li took a deep breath and followed his instructions, feeling along the tight sleeve until she found an unusual bulge—the shape of a dagger, roughly the size of a palm. The hilt extended another inch, engraved with semicircular patterns that felt like neatly arranged fish scales under her fingers.
Scales… She faintly recalled it being an important detail.
But the thought slipped away like a shooting star vanishing into darkness. Unable to grasp it, Bai Li focused on drawing out the dagger.
Still, it was strange. Why would he hide a blade there unless… he had prepared in advance?
"Someone’s coming." The unusually quiet young man suddenly seized her wrist, his entire demeanor shifting from careless languor to razor-sharp alertness.
Footsteps approached—one step, two, three… They were almost upon them. Bai Li had been cutting the ropes and froze in panic, the dagger clutched clumsily in her hand.
What now? The men were nearly here. This was their final escape—if they messed up, they’d both die.
Right—she needed to hide the dagger first.
Her hand slipped, and the blade nicked her palm. A sharp gasp escaped her as the dagger nearly fell, but at the last moment, it was caught deftly.
"Don’t panic. I’ll hide it." With a flick of his fingers, he slipped the blade back into his sleeve.
"Th-thank you," Bai Li whispered, her eyes wide as the footsteps drew closer.
The carriage curtain was yanked open with a violent rustle. Moonlight flooded in, spilling over the desolate wilderness outside. Withered grass bowed in the night wind, dry leaves swirling like ghostly whispers. Above, a cold crescent moon hung like a bloodthirsty hook in the sky.
The two disciples of the Wen Clan stood there, their dark robes ominous, the cold gleam of their longswords at their waists resembling the chains of underworld enforcers.
"Don’t even think of trying anything," one of them warned, rapping his scabbard against the carriage wall. "Or we’ll chop off your limbs right here."
Bai Li, directly facing the door, flinched as the scabbard nearly struck her forehead, shrinking like a frightened chick.
Just as the man moved to drop the curtain, his companion stopped him. "Wait. Something’s off."
Bai Li’s heart skipped a beat. The man’s icy gaze swept over them before he stepped into the carriage, looming closer. "Don’t get careless. I heard voices in here. Get them out—we’re searching them again."
"Is that really necessary?"
"This cargo was handpicked by the Grand Elder. If they escape, we’ll pay with our heads!"
If they were searched again, the dagger would be found… Bai Li’s blood ran cold.
The more suspicious Wen disciple already had his sword drawn, its edge glinting like flowing water in the moonlight. "Get out."
Since when did side characters get such convoluted plotlines? This was practically protagonist treatment! Bai Li curled in on herself and whispered, "What do we do?"
The young man behind her didn’t answer.
This was it. Even her companion had no plan. Were they just going to be slaughtered like lambs?
"I said, get out." The sword was fully unsheathed now, its blade shimmering under the moon. Distant embers from a dying fire cast flickering red reflections along the steel as the disciple used the tip to lift the curtain, light piercing the darkness.
The night was deathly silent—even breathing seemed to stop. Bai Li shivered, her clothes soaked with cold sweat.
Amid the stillness, the ropes around her wrists were tugged lightly. Her pulse spiked. Was he insane? Undoing the bindings right in front of the disciples? Even if he broke free, he couldn’t escape—this would only get them both killed!
She couldn’t see what was happening, but a bone-chilling aura seeped into the carriage. The two disciples slowly raised their eyes, their pupils reflecting a sliver of pale light—whether moonlight or the young man’s figure, she couldn’t tell.
A violent gust of wind howled across the wilderness, echoing like the roar of ten thousand swords unsheathing at once.
"Dammit! When did he—"
The Wen disciple didn’t even have time to react before his own sword flew from its sheath. A graceful arc of steel and blood split the air, severing his throat.
In the span of a breath, silence swallowed everything. The remaining disciple, sword already drawn, paled. With no hope of fighting back, his only option was to flee.
But it was too late. A flash of azure sword light cut through the dark, cold as death. Sparks of crimson and gold danced along the blade as the carriage exploded into splinters under the force of the strike.
The sword moved with effortless precision, slicing through flesh as smoothly as moonlight through cherry blossoms. The man’s throat split without a sound, blood gushing like a sudden storm under the dim firelight.
D-dead?
Bai Li stood frozen in the cold wind, trembling as she lifted her gaze. The young man landed gracefully atop the wreckage of the carriage, his sword lowered, thick droplets of blood sliding down the blade.
He turned to her with a smile. "Fellow cultivator, you can come out now."
