Chapter 1: The Eyes of Providence
Nie Lianfeng had given up on life.
After years of fighting and losing, all he wanted was peace and nothingness. When the hospital lights dimmed, he believed he was finally free.
But…
He was wrong.
Instead of nothing, he woke up in pain. His head throbbed with a sharp, relentless ache, and he was lying on something rough, a scratchy straw mat.
The air felt thick, filled with the smell of damp soil, spilled alcohol, and a sharp, electric scent, like the air after a storm.
He tried to sit up, but the body didn't feel like his own. It was thin and weak like that of a boy just past his teens.
This wasn't the worn-out, tired body that had given up on Earth. This one felt empty, yet buzzing with a strange energy he didn't understand or know how to control.
He was confused, but the weariness of the middle-aged man kept him from panicking. There was no point in shouting no one would understand anyway.
He looked around. The room was a small, sad clay box, just big enough for the wooden bed he lay on. It was like the cheapest kind of shelter, hidden in the rundown back alleys of a huge city. Bright afternoon light poured in through a tiny window covered with greasy paper.
Then a sharp sound broke through his confusion: a quick, high-pitched chime, followed by a rush of wind like a whip cracking.
He got off the bed and ripped the paper from the window.
Outside, the scene was overwhelming. The houses were packed closely together, but beyond the neighborhood, huge stone walls soared up, leading to grand pagodas that vanished into the clouds.
Across that vast sky, a small, graceful figure in red robes floated by, casually standing on a glowing green sword blade.
'A sword immortal', Nie Lianfeng realized, his stomach tightening. 'This had to be one of those legendary cultivation worlds he'd heard about in novels and fantasy'.
The irony hit him hard. He was a man who couldn't even handle taxes or a simple job.
Now, he was in a world where people could fly and battle gods.
To survive here, you needed spiritual power, lots of money, and a strong master. But he had nothing no money, no skills, and no one by his side in a place locals called the Outer District of Azure Sky City.
"Great," he hissed bitterly to the empty room. "I went from drowning in crushing debt to staring straight into the jaws of instant death."
He sank back onto the plank bed, the reality hitting him like a bucket of cold water.
No cultivation, no money, and no clue how to survive in this strange world.
All he had left was the memory of a failed life and a weak, unfamiliar body. His survival here seemed impossible. He stared blankly at the muddy floor, hoping the exhaustion would come back and put an end to this pointless reincarnation.
It was this deep, suffocating stillness of despair, this sharp focus on the certainty of his own end, that shattered something inside his mind.
An instantaneous, excruciating shock pulsed behind his eyes.
A sudden, burning pain tore through his skull, like his eyes were being reshaped by fire and metal.
He screamed in unbearable pain, collapsing to his knees, clutching his face desperately as the world around him faded into a bright, blinding white light.
When the pain finally eased, and he forced his eyes open, gasping for breath. Drenched in sweat and trembling, he blinked at a world that no longer felt real.
Everything was covered in a web of glowing, shimmering energy.
Every wall, every speck of dust, every shadow was linked by these bright Fate Threads.
They weren't illusions they were real, glowing threads connecting the present to futures that hadn't yet happened.
He didn't know what he was seeing, but his logical mind immediately looked for patterns. The sight was overwhelming, but the flow of fate showed three clear colors. He concentrated, trying to understand their meaning by studying how the energy moved.
There were thick, golden ropes glowing warmly, winding toward futures filled with comfort and fortune.
Then there were silver strands, twisting and shimmering slowly, showing the undecided paths choices that could still change.
And closest to him, where a small mouse nervously scurried along the baseboard, was a short, thick cable of deep, terrifying black.
The black thread shook with deadly energy, running tight from the mouse's small body to a dark crack in the floor.
Danger was coming, and Nie Lianfeng, cold with fear, watched the inevitable path of death unfold.
A moment later, a shadow slipped out from the crack a sleek, jet-black scorpion with pincers raised. It moved with unnatural speed, cutting the mouse's thread of life right where the black line had shown.
The vision faded, pulling him back to the real world. He felt dizzy, cold, and completely drained of energy.
The black line was doom, he realized, his mind racing. The power showed him death before it happened. It didn't respond to him, it reacted to his despair.
He had no Qi to cultivate, no power to fight with currently.
But he could see what no one else could. He could see the hidden truth behind life and death.
Fate wasn't mystery it was a clear, visible path for him.
His cynicism returned, now driven by a cold, desperate plan. He had no skills in this new cultivation world, but he had one thing everyone wanted even if they didn't know how to find it.
He stood up slowly and picked up a piece of wood and a broken piece of clay from the corner.
He carved five simple words into the clay: One Copper Coin for Divination.
He refused to beg for help.
Instead, he would sell the knowledge of fate itself. This was the beginning of his new life, the only way he could stay alive and find a place in this strange world.
For the first time in two lives, Nie Lianfeng realized this was a gift, and a weapon, unlike anything he'd ever known.