In 2050, the technology linking the human brain to the internet reached full maturity, marking the moment human consciousness could freely enter and exit virtual worlds to interact with machines. This breakthrough caused a massive sensation.
Following a series of iterative advancements in information processing—including supercomputers, optical computers, and quantum computers—a wealth of military technology was declassified for civilian use. Bolstered by these developments, holographic virtual reality games, which had already been gaining popularity, entered a period of explosive growth.
At that time, major nations, eager to project their national strength and promote their own cultures, simultaneously poured their focus into the gaming industry. One after another, holographic games were launched, dazzling the public.
*Jiuzhou World* was born against this backdrop. A super-map evolved from complex parameters, it featured exquisite vistas that defied reality and, most importantly, a genuine sensation of soaring through the skies and burrowing into the earth. This fully open-world holographic game quickly became a massive hit.
Initially, due to cultural factors, the game was only popular within the Asian market. However, fueled by massive marketing campaigns, the participation of countless guilds, the establishment of professional leagues, and the allure of profits from equipment trading, prize money, and medals, it gradually carved out space in the gaming markets of other continents as well.
The primary reason *Jiuzhou World* managed to break through and crush its rivals to win the hearts of players everywhere could be summed up in two words: "Authentic."
It was so incredibly lifelike that many players became convinced this world was truly real, and not merely a string of virtual parameters.
Lu Bei was not a professional player. Coming from an ordinary family, the exorbitant price of a gaming pod kept him at a distance; he neither could nor would make a holographic game a personal hobby.
However, he had a good job. His boss was an amateur player—a man with more enthusiasm than skill. Constantly being ground into the dirt by other players, the boss would always stubbornly insist that it wasn't a lack of hand speed, but rather his focus being divided by the demands of his career.
After a brief stint as a stand-in, the boss realized that Lu Bei’s gaming talent had only been stifled by poverty. He gladly handed his account over to Lu Bei, tasking him with clearing the main storyline quests.
And so, Lu Bei began spending half of his workdays inside the gaming pod.
In truth, he had only a middling interest in the game. After all, no matter how realistic it felt, the internet was not reality. The gap between being powerful in the game and being helpless in real life was too vast. Over time, regardless of potential mental health issues, it became difficult for someone to find their true footing.
That wasn't good.
But his boss paid too well. Faced with the temptation of a salary raise and a doubled year-end bonus, Lu Bei chose to compromise.
On this particular day, he made his way to his boss’s office under the envious, jealous, and hateful gazes of his colleagues. He skillfully opened the gaming pod, selected Story Mode to enter *Jiuzhou World*, and then…
There was no "then." He closed his eyes and opened them again, and the world before him felt even more real.
His boss’s account was nowhere to be found. He had logged into a strange account, and he was still using the template of an NPC passerby.
Unable to log out, he tried to call for help, only to find the forum section completely grayed out. There wasn't even an official pinned post; it was more "under maintenance" than maintenance itself.
After communicating with another NPC passerby, Lu Bei confirmed he had transmigrated.
Wu Zhou Dynasty, year 824; Ning Province, Dongyang Prefecture, Langyu County.
The year 824 was the time point for the *Jiuzhou World* public beta. By the time Lu Bei had started playing for his boss, the game had been updated to version 3.0, and he had been running quests in the capital of the Wu Zhou Dynasty.
In other words, he hadn't just transmigrated into a different world; he had also transmigrated through time.
Although time in Jiuzhou was not synchronized with reality, that wasn't the point. The point was that Lu Bei discovered he was being stalked by an old Daoist.
Those lecherous eyes, scanning him up and down, sent shivers down his spine and instantly snapped him out of the confusion of his arrival.
"Young man, I see your bone structure is extraordinary; you are excellent material for cultivating immortality. Since I happen to be lacking a disciple, why don't we just make do with each other?"
"Keep dreaming."
An old, lecherous Daoist, rubbing his hands together while he spoke. Out of concern for both his physical and mental safety, Lu Bei left no room for negotiation and firmly refused.
That was the first meeting between Lu Bei and Mo Buxiu. The result was not very friendly to Lu Bei; Mo Buxiu forcibly took him up the mountain and compelled him to take him as his master.
...
"My head hurts, I'm so hungry. Can I still go back?"
Lu Bei, who had closed his eyes to check his dashboard, frowned and muttered to himself, "If I can't, what am I going to do in the future? Is this dashboard for real? Will players actually enter the game… This is terrible. I didn't agree to this, and I’m so hungry."
Unable to solve his hunger, Lu Bei began to worry about his future life. With a series of sighs, he turned his attention back to the dashboard.
When players entered the game, they had options like Story Mode, Versus Mode, and Instance Mode. NPCs had nothing, so he didn't need to consider those.
Additionally, the dashboards for players and NPCs were slightly different, significantly simplified and quite refreshing at a glance.
The primary interface of the info panel was divided into four sections. Lu Bei clicked through them in order. Aside from the Character interface, the others—Techniques, Wealth, and Faction—were completely blank.
"This shouldn't be. I can understand Techniques being blank, but why are Wealth and Faction empty?"
Lu Bei found it impossible to grasp. Mo Buxiu had passed the position of sect master of the Feathering Sect to him; logically, the Wealth interface should at least show a land deed, and the Faction tab should have shown a default change.
"Could it be that because of my inner resistance, even though I inherited his legacy, I didn't inherit it completely?"
Perplexed, Lu Bei turned his attention to the Character interface. With only a few lines, and ignoring the evaluation on the final line, he got a rough idea of his situation.
First, in terms of attributes, he wasn't much different from a player. To put it bluntly, it was essentially a continuation of the standard gaming attributes system.
Setting aside the requirements for equipment assembly and the cultivation of techniques, Strength determined base attack power; Speed determined basic movement and evasion; Spirit and Stamina determined basic cultivation and health, with a ratio of 1:10.
Of course, there were some finer details. For instance, Spirit influenced willpower, judgment, and comprehension, while Stamina influenced defense and physical stamina, and also interacted with technique skills.
As for Charm, it was not the same as mere physical appearance. It influenced interactions with NPCs and played a significant role within factions.
Of course, if one were so world-shatteringly handsome that everyone ignored all other factors, Lu Bei would have nothing to say about equating appearance with Charm.
Then there was Luck. Lu Bei had never understood this thing. To give a simple example: with the same account and the same quest, everything being identical, he would consistently have a higher drop rate for good gear than his boss did.
What did that prove?
Was his boss just cursed with bad luck?
On one hand, yes, but on the other, the official developers held the final interpretation regarding what gear would drop.
After looking over his 233333 attributes, Lu Bei scanned his level, experience, and cultivation. It was no surprise he wasn't starting from zero. The official forums had explained that *Jiuzhou World* was rich in spiritual energy; as long as anything was breathing, even a pig, it would eventually develop some level of cultivation over time.
If it were lucky, it might even gain intelligence and turn into a monster.
But there was one caveat: having cultivation was one thing—it was merely the natural accumulation of spiritual energy in the body. Without systematic practice, a pig with cultivation was simply a pig that tasted better.
This also explained why Lu Bei had cultivation but couldn't open his Qiankun Pouch. Compared to a pig, he might not even be as tasty yet.
"No primary occupation yet. I need a guide, and if nothing goes wrong, that person should be my Senior Sister."
A moment later, Lu Bei opened his eyes and casually plucked a foxtail grass to chew on. "I wonder what my Senior Sister’s primary occupation is. Lingxiao Sword Sect—sounds like a Daoist Cultivator, though that's not guaranteed. Plenty of demonic cultivators practice swordsmanship too… Huh, this grass tastes pretty good. Is it because of the spiritual energy?"
...
By noon, the scorching sun was high, and the cool mountain breeze carried a hint of sultriness.
After chewing on the foxtail grass for a while, Lu Bei’s health points had recovered slightly. He marveled that the world was full of wonders—with spiritual energy, one could do whatever one pleased. Since he didn't know when this "Senior Sister" would arrive, or if she would even come at all, he decided to try descending the mountain while there was still daylight.
Whether he succeeded wasn't important; scouting the path was enough.
Just as he reached the front courtyard—the entrance or perhaps the perimeter wall—he heard the sound of wind behind him. Amidst the swaying pines and the sudden chirping of birds, he turned around.
Within his line of sight was a woman dressed in a white, waist-cinching dress with a light blue silk sash. Her dark hair cascaded to her waist without any ornaments, held only by a white ribbon.
Her skin was fair, her features radiant, and her face as exquisitely painted as a portrait.
A fox spirit? Was she that quick?
Lu Bei frowned and took half a step back.
To state the facts and reason it out: the girl opposite him looked even younger than he was. If this was the "Senior Sister Bai" whom Mo Buxiu claimed had claimed the crown of the first disciple of the Lingxiao Sword Sect thirty years ago, then…
He was definitely going to cultivate this immortality!
No one could stop him!
Noticing Lu Bei’s defensive posture, the woman’s cold expression softened slightly. She introduced herself: "Bai Jin, here at the request of Uncle-Master Mo. Are you the Junior Brother?"
"So it is Senior Sister. Senior Sister, you are so fair. My name is Lu Bei."
"What?"
"I mean… Hello, Senior Sister Bai. My name is Lu Bei."
After a brief exchange, having confirmed that the person before him was indeed his Senior Sister and not a fox spirit, Lu Bei shook his head in embarrassment. Even though he had personally experienced that one could do as they pleased in *Jiuzhou World* with spiritual energy, he still couldn't shed his ingrained biases.
It seemed that getting fully accustomed to this would take some time.
Inside the house, Bai Jin looked at the wooden box on the table and fell into silence. After a long while, she said, "Junior Brother Lu, Uncle-Master Mo’s message was hurried. Did he have any final words for you to pass on to me?"
"The… The old man said that my cultivation matters would be left to Senior Sister to handle," Lu Bei said after a moment of thought.
"Was there nothing else?"
"Something else?"
Lu Bei’s expression remained unchanged, though he muttered to himself that one must always be on guard. He changed the subject: "The old man left too quickly. He didn't even have time to say, 'I shall pass my life’s cultivation to you.' There really wasn't anything else."
Bai Jin was silent. Lu Bei’s temperament was much more flighty than she had imagined; the path of cultivation would likely be much harder for him than for others. And then there was Mo Buxiu…
"Junior Brother Lu, tell me the truth: did Uncle-Master Mo, in the end… mention my master?"
"???"
Looking at Bai Jin’s sincere, pretty face, a string of question marks floated over Lu Bei’s head. He probed, "He did indeed mention the Lingxiao Sword Sect, but he only said one thing: if he hadn't accidentally injured his Senior Brother, the Sect Master, all those years ago, he certainly would have gone back to visit before he died."
"So that's how it is. He did mention it." Bai Jin nodded, then shook her head.
"Senior Sister Bai, I have a question, though I don't know if I should ask." Thinking of a certain possibility, Lu Bei suddenly felt a lot of pressure.
"Speak."
*Senior Sister was the first disciple of the Lingxiao Sword Sect thirty years ago, so how… how old are you, and how many years have you been cultivating?*
Lu Bei really wanted to ask this question, but considering it might damage the bond between senior and junior, and mostly because it might damage his own body, he resolutely kept it to himself. He asked cautiously, "Senior Sister Bai, that injured Sect Master—could it be your master?"
"No, that was the Senior Sect Master. He and Uncle-Master Mo had some misunderstandings."
Bai Jin turned her head. "As for my master… she is the Sect Master’s wife."
Lu Bei: "..."
Understood. The relationships weren't complicated at all.
Moreover, with that connection, his plan to leech experience from the Lingxiao Sword Sect was doomed.
*A new author with a new book! This newbie begs for collections!*