Chapter One: The Beginning of Beginnings

Han Su’s favorite pastime was reading novels. Two years out of college, her job was unremarkable, her income average, and she spent every day in front of a computer from dawn till dusk. What she had most was time. As someone who’d always preferred staying at home, she was more than content with this arrangement. Nothing else mattered—as long as she could read novels. After sampling every genre, Han Su became obsessed with cultivation stories. They were endlessly inventive, with new themes appearing every day. Recently, she’d been absorbed in a novel about a female supporting character rising against the odds in a cultivation world.

The protagonist was a second-generation cultivator who had been reborn. In her previous life, she’d wasted her days fighting a transmigrated commoner for a man, only to end up dead and forgotten. Reborn, she vowed to reclaim everything she’d lost, looking down on her rival with an air of superiority. But the transmigrated girl’s luck was too strong, and soon she seemed poised to surpass the protagonist. The protagonist struggled in confusion and doubt, while the rival used every means at her disposal. The intense battles, both open and hidden, left Han Su unable to tear herself away—cheering for the protagonist one moment, and rooting for the rival the next.

Until… one day, she awoke to find herself transformed into a mere background character in the novel.

It was a radiant afternoon, with the breeze gently brushing her cheek and the scent of medicinal herbs tickling her nose. Her whole body felt hot and sweaty. Instinctively, she tried to push aside the quilt, but her fingertips touched warm water instead. She opened her eyes abruptly and found herself placed in a large barrel filled with a strange liquid. Her mind raced—alien experiments, black-market organ trading, abducted for surrogate motherhood. Before she could scream, someone appeared in front of her, urgently grasping her hand and calling, “Little junior sister! Are you feeling unwell? Is your inner breath disrupted?”

Han Su stared wide-eyed at the scene before her: distant mist-wreathed mountains, a vibrant peach blossom grove, a pavilion barely visible among the trees, and—closest—a striking young man in white Daoist robes, his hair tied up, with sharp brows and star-like eyes. He bent over her, and his clean, fresh herbal scent hovered at his nose. He held her hand, his long, warm fingers enveloping hers, filling her with a sense of security. His brows were slightly furrowed, his clear eyes full of worry, reflecting her naked figure among the peach blossoms.

Wait! He enveloped her entire hand! Her naked figure!

Han Su finally realized something was very wrong: her hand was tiny, and her body appeared to be only three or four years old.

Lin Qing gazed at his dazed little junior sister and hurriedly used his eye technique to examine her dantian—no problem; her meridians—no problem; her spiritual consciousness—no injuries. What was going on? He quickly took out a communication jade and sent a message to their master and mistress. So, by the time Han Su had processed that she’d experienced the fabled transmigration and now inhabited the body of a three- or four-year-old girl with suspected cultivation background, her new parents had already descended from the sky.

Her father was a refined scholar, who conjured a strange blanket with a wave of his hand. Her mother was a classic beauty with almond eyes and peach-blossom cheeks, who gently lifted Han Su from the barrel. Lin Qing, who had stood quietly by the whole time, cast a spell to wash off the medicinal solution, then another to dry her. Her mother wrapped the now clean Han Su in her father’s blanket and began examining her. After a while, the two parents exchanged puzzled glances and placed Han Su in Lin Qing’s arms. Her father said, “Lin Qing, take Susu back to her room to rest. Your mistress and I need to discuss this further.” Han Su was settled in a bedroom and didn’t overhear her parents’ conversation.

Her father looked gravely at his partner. “A Tong, did you notice Susu’s soul is much stronger than before?”

“You suspect she’s been possessed?” her mother cried, grabbing her husband’s hand.

He gently embraced her, hesitating. “But possession requires someone to have cultivated to the Golden Core stage. Susu’s soul is strong, but far from that level. Perhaps it’s the effect of today’s Qingluo Biyan decoction?”

“In any case, Susu will turn three in a few days. After testing her spiritual roots, I’ll teach her to channel qi into her body. Observing her behavior, we’ll know the truth soon enough.”

“Agreed.”

So Han Su entered a phase of scrutiny and assessment, but she herself felt no sense of crisis. After all, nothing like this had ever happened in the novel. Having endured a difficult period of adjustment, Han Su had already mapped out her future: eat, sleep, play… Her confidence came, of course, from her observations and indirect knowledge—her father was a Nascent Soul patriarch and the head of a peak; her mother was late-stage Golden Core; she herself was a bona fide second-generation cultivator! As for cultivation… Han Su had no interest in fighting and killing. If life could be easy, why struggle? She had no desire to be the protagonist.

Two days later, on Han Su’s third birthday, a host of important figures arrived. Only then did she realize she had transmigrated into the very novel she’d been reading; the names of the sect leader and the peak masters matched perfectly. She remembered much of the book’s content. Her father’s name was Jiang Lan—dual wood and fire spiritual roots, Nascent Soul early stage, master of Spirit Mist Peak. Her mother was Jiang Tong—single water spiritual root, late Golden Core. Both had little presence in the book, and she herself was merely a background character who appeared a few times. With this knowledge, she felt reassured. Not the protagonist, not the rival—just a background character. Safe! Worry-free! Han Su—or rather, she was now called Jiang Hansu—let her mind wander, imagining herself with snacks and drinks, gleefully watching the chaos unfold between the protagonist and the rival.

As Hansu daydreamed, she was brought up to have her spiritual roots tested.

In the cultivation world, spiritual roots could only be officially tested at age three. Before that, second-generation cultivators like Hansu would be tested by their parents, though results weren’t always accurate. Now, a small, exquisite octagonal tray lay before Hansu, engraved with strange patterns and adorned with differently colored beads at each corner. Ten crystals surrounded the tray’s center. When a hand was placed in the middle, the illuminated bead indicated the type of spiritual root; the more central crystals that lit up, the better the root.

Under the expectant gazes of the assembled elders, Hansu carefully placed her hand on the tray. Instantly, the red fire bead and the white ice bead lit up simultaneously, and all ten central crystals glowed. Everyone present was stunned.

Since ancient times, dual spiritual roots with opposing attributes were considered the worst—their cultivation speed lagged behind even triple or quadruple roots, and advancement was more dangerous. For example, on Spirit Sea Peak, the son of a Golden Core master had water and fire dual roots and had yet to form his foundation after nearly a hundred years. With diligent training, even those with four spiritual roots could usually form their foundation within a century. Qi practitioners who failed to do so were only slightly stronger than mortals, able to use minor spells, but would die by age 150. Forming a foundation increased lifespan by a hundred years, Golden Core by two hundred, and Nascent Soul up to eight hundred.

But Hansu’s ice-fire dual roots were different. The Yaohua Sect possessed a core cultivation technique, “Ice and Fire Heart Convergence,” specifically for ice-fire dual roots. Practicing this method not only enabled faster cultivation than single roots, but the internal balance ensured practitioners faced almost no bottlenecks in advancement. As one of the five major sects, the Yaohua Sect owed its founding to Daoist Master Ningyuan, who, after a fortuitous encounter, obtained this ancient technique and reached the Spirit Transformation stage, dominating the Luo Star Realm.

However, ice-fire dual roots were exceedingly rare—none had appeared in the sect for thousands of years, and the technique had gradually been lost. Now, discovering Hansu not only possessed ice-fire dual roots but also had heavenly-grade aptitude, the elders were overwhelmed with excitement—and regret. How could the technique have been lost? Without it, even with heavenly-grade aptitude, she would have to cultivate like any ordinary dual-root practitioner.

Unable to bear such a cruel fate, the peak masters and patriarchs generously increased the weight of Hansu’s birthday gifts.