Sunlight filtered through layers of dense green leaves, casting butterfly-wing-like shadows on the dry ground. The sky, washed clean as if by water, glowed with a lifeless white hue.
It was spring, yet the weather was unusually hot. A sticky, oppressive heatwave swept through the air. Leaning against the railing on the second floor of a tavern, a young girl craned her neck to look outside while fanning herself incessantly.
Sitting opposite her was a man dressed in a moon-white robe, with handsome brows and clear eyes—a figure of grace and tranquility.
Unlike the restless girl, he remained composed, calmly sipping tea from a small cup, exuding an air of leisure.
“Senior Brother, stop dawdling. Finish that sip quickly so we can get going,” the girl retracted her body and sat back down, urging him.
The man addressed as Senior Brother blew gently on his tea and replied unhurriedly, “What’s the rush?”
The girl widened her cat-like, upturned eyes. “How can it not be urgent? That letter was sent out three days ago. By now, they might have left us far behind.”
“What exactly did you write in that letter? So afraid of others finding out?” The man set down his cup, straightened up, and adjusted his collar.
The girl hesitated, about to speak, when a commotion erupted downstairs.
“Quick, catch that thief! He harassed a woman right on the street!”
“I know this man—he’s a flower thief! He matches the wanted poster from the authorities perfectly!”
The girl stepped onto the railing and looked down. In the bustling market below, a shifty-looking man darted through the crowd, leaving chaos in his wake.
“Hmph,” she snorted, slapped the table, grabbed the teacup that flew into the air, and leaped out, hurling the cup straight at the back of the flower thief’s head.
Though just a small teacup, it struck the man hard enough to make him stumble, dizzy and disoriented, before collapsing to his knees.
The man from the tavern called out from a distance, “What are you doing, Junior Sister?”
The girl landed behind the flower thief and laughed. “Senior Brother, you were taking forever with that sip of tea. I got impatient and tossed it out, only to hit a little rat.”
As she spoke, the pursuers caught up and finally got a clear look at the girl. Her face was delicate and fair, with lively, charming eyes that sparkled with energy. Most endearing was a small mole on the side of her face, parallel to the corner of her mouth. When she smiled, it looked from afar like a swirling vortex—not quite a dimple but just as captivating.
The pursuers clasped their hands in gratitude. “Thank you, miss. We’ll take this man to the authorities now.”
The girl grinned. “A flower thief? Wouldn’t taking him to the authorities be letting him off too easily?”
“Grandfather, may I borrow your brush and ink?” In a flash, she snatched the long brush from a street artist’s hand. With a flick of the brush handle and a muttered incantation, she swiftly wrote a few large characters on the man’s face: “Lower Than Swine and Dogs.”
In moments, the brush was back in the artist’s hand. The girl crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “I cast a spell on it. These characters won’t fade for at least half a year. Please take your time dragging him to the authorities so everyone around can have a good laugh.”
The pursuers chuckled and nodded in agreement.
The man from the tavern finally caught up, wiping sweat from his forehead. “What’s gotten into you lately, Junior Sister? I’ve never seen you so eager to help before.”
A flicker of panic crossed the girl’s face as she hurriedly explained, “A few days ago, I met a master who said I committed too many sins in my past life and must accumulate good deeds.”
She tugged at the sleeve of the bewildered man, disregarding everything else, and urged him repeatedly to hurry on their way.
This wasn’t entirely a lie—it’s just that the wrongdoing wasn’t from her past life. If one had to pinpoint it, it would be from her predecessor.
The story begins three days earlier.
One moment, Ji Jinshu was lying weakly on a hospital bed, the fading sunlight refracting through the glass window onto the stark white sheets. The next, as her parents’ suppressed, heart-wrenching sobs echoed from the corridor, she closed her eyes in irritation and exhaustion, only to open them again and find herself standing in an unfamiliar training ground. The warm, comfortable afternoon air had replaced the cold, sterile scent of disinfectant.
Almost instantly, as an avid reader of web novels, she realized she had transmigrated.
Flustered, she grabbed a passing disciple dressed in martial attire and demanded to know who she was. The young disciples, however, looked as if they had seen a ghost, trembling and barely able to speak. After a long while, she finally learned that she shared the same name as before—Ji Jinshu—and was currently a disciple of the world’s foremost sect.
Almost as soon as she learned her name, memories of the original host and her own past life flooded her mind.
To her disbelief, Jinshu discovered she had seemingly become a character from a novel she had read in her previous life.
As for what kind of novel it was, Jinshu, who had just become a part of it, could hardly give it a favorable review.
After all, if she had known she would one day experience such a bizarre encounter, she would never have opened “The Sword God Chronicles” on that idle, sunlit afternoon. Or, at the very least, she would have forced herself to finish the latter half, which was clearly written to perfunctorily satisfy readers.
“The Sword God Chronicles,” as any seasoned novel reader would know from the title alone, was anything but a sweet, romantic love story. With its concise and audacious three-character title, the author had undoubtedly inherited the essence of certain lowbrow male-oriented web novels to create such a quintessential “Long Aotian” story—one that stood out both before and after its time. If one had to summarize it in a single sentence, it would be: “Just how awesome is it to have cheat codes maxed out and reign supreme?”
When it comes to male-oriented novels, they are inevitably filled with face-slapping plots and expansive harems. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, the author of this book chose to have the male lead, Li Xingdao, walk through a garden of flowers without plucking a single petal. Coincidentally, Ji Jinshu was the most ungrateful, foolish, expendable, and hastily written-off flower in that garden.
She had wealth, beauty, and talent, yet her fiancé was a good-for-nothing. Who could tolerate such a thing? The current Ji Jinshu didn’t know how she felt about it, but the original host certainly couldn’t swallow this injustice.
She, too, was an exceptional cultivation prodigy, no less remarkable than Long Aotian. Arrogant from a young age, she grew even more unruly after joining the top sect in the cultivation world. Relying on her innate talent, she became increasingly lazy, coasting on her reputation as a genius young girl. Not only that, but she also constantly stirred up trouble on Long Aotian’s path to redemption, earning her the title of the novel’s number one cannon fodder!
At this moment, Long Aotian had only recently obtained his fortuitous encounter, while the original host, through unknown means, discovered she had a fiancé. After some inquiries, she learned he was actually a useless good-for-nothing. Who could tolerate that? Others might have endured it, but unfortunately, the original host was precisely the brainless antagonist—no thinking required. She immediately wrote a letter of annulment and sent it to the Li family.
Following the trope of countless underdog revenge stories, this was the first satisfying face-slapping plot in the book. Long Aotian suffered the humiliation of having his engagement annulled. Resilient as he was, he chose to challenge the lawless and malicious female supporting character and unexpectedly defeated her soundly, earning the recognition of the sect elders and becoming a closed-door disciple.
Jinshu, who had just transmigrated, was horrified to discover that the original host had sent the annulment letter just the day before she arrived!
Determined not to become a tool for face-slapping, Jinshu dragged along her senior brother, whom she had leverage over, and hurried off to intercept the provocative letter.
The two made their way with frequent stops, finally arriving at the Li residence.
Jinshu restrained the flower thief and politely asked passersby for the exact location of the Li residence. She had intended to capture the pigeon sent to deliver the letter but learned from the gatekeeper at the Li residence that half a day earlier, the reclusive young master had received a letter and left immediately.
“This is bad,” Jinshu wailed, stamping her foot.
“What exactly was written in the letter?” Bu Quegan pressed.
Jinshu shook her head and instead asked, “He must have gone to the sect to look for me. Do you think I should hide and return in a few days?”
Bu Quegan patted her shoulder. “Junior sister, if you and I shared the same master, this method might work. Unfortunately, Xuanqing Zhenren isn’t soft-hearted. Although I don’t know what trouble you’ve stirred up this time, delaying it will likely result in a harsher punishment than before.”
Although both were disciples of the same sect, they did not share the same master.
Ji Jinshu’s sect was the number one sect in the world, known as the Tianxuan Sect. Unlike other top sects in novels that focused solely on sword cultivation, the Tianxuan Sect was diverse. The sect elders each had their own specialties, and the disciples were equally varied. There were only seven elders in the sect. Jinshu’s master ranked second among them and was an unapologetic sword fanatic.
The Tianxuan Sect leader was usually elusive and rarely seen. He had a personal disciple, none other than this seemingly aloof but actually half-baked senior brother, Bu Quegan. Like his master, he was obsessed with alchemy and medicine refining and seldom appeared. The senior sister was under the third elder, a music cultivator who also had little presence in the story. The book mentioned she was upright and took good care of the junior disciple, Li Xingdao.
Jinshu had joined the sect early and earned the title of little senior sister. Under Xuanqing Zhenren, there was another disciple who was in seclusion year-round and never appeared in the original story.
After pondering for a moment, Jinshu reluctantly chose to face the situation head-on.
The two hurried without stopping for a moment, finally returning to the sect near evening the next day. The Tianxuan Sect was located atop a stretch of rolling mountains, with inner sect disciples and elders residing at the peak and outer sect disciples at the foot.
As soon as they arrived at the sect, a bold disciple approached to deliver a message: “Senior sister, Elder Xuanqing is looking for you. Several fellow disciples searched the entire sect but couldn’t find you. They were about to report to the elder, but thankfully you’re back. The elder is waiting for you at the training grounds.”
Jinshu nodded. Bu Quegan gloated, “Looks like you don’t need me to accompany you now, junior sister? I’ll head back to prepare medicine first. Don’t forget to pay me back the money you owe.”
Unfortunately, the young girl paid him no mind. Crestfallen, she hurried straight to the training grounds.
The training grounds were packed with people, crowded in layer upon layer. Someone spotted Jinshu first, and immediately a commotion broke out. A narrow path opened up toward the center, and Jinshu steeled herself, walking in under the scorching gazes.
The first thing that caught her eye was Xuanqing Zhenren’s stern, unsmiling face. Holding a letter, his heavy gaze swept over Jinshu, sending shivers down her arms.
“Come here,” he beckoned. “Did you really send this letter?”
Jinshu’s eyelids twitched, but she could only answer truthfully, “Yes.”
Xuanqing Zhenren’s voice carried anger. “Let me ask you, were these unreasonable words in the letter truly written by you?”
The young girl nodded. Xuanqing was about to erupt. “How could you be so arrogant? So ignorant of your own limits!”
Jinshu was in a difficult position. Though she hadn’t written the letter, there was no other choice but to take responsibility now.
However, she was far cleverer than the original owner. In this situation, the original owner had stubbornly argued back, provoking Xuanqing’s increasing fury until she was severely punished. Jinshu, on the other hand, remained silent, answering only what was asked.
Xuanqing’s sharp gaze swept over this insolent disciple before turning to the young man on the other side.
“I have already informed the family head about the annulment of the engagement. I came here only to challenge you to a duel.”
Hearing this, Jinshu looked up. The young man beside her was youthful and inexperienced, yet his eyes were resolute, fixed on her with an unyielding intensity that seemed to pierce through her very soul. His attire was simple, his frame slender, and his features steady. Though unremarkable in appearance, he exuded an unexpectedly solid and unpretentious aura.
Li Xingdao stood straight as a post, carrying a simple, ancient black iron sword on his back, like a sturdy pine tree after a snowfall.
Though only two days had passed since her transmigration, this body had trained in martial arts for years. To avoid exposing herself, she had stayed indoors, spending days reviewing and relearning the original owner’s martial skills, mastering most of them.
In her previous life, she had been a sickly person who struggled even with strenuous movement. To achieve this much in such a short time was already the result of immense effort.
Yet even the original owner had lost to Long Aotian. How could she, with only a superficial understanding, possibly stand against him?