His gaze was unconsciously drawn to a faint, flickering point of light in the corner of the room, where dry firewood was piled high.
He frowned slightly and slowed his steps.
"Huh? Is that a leftover ember?
…No, it doesn't look like one. What exactly is that?"
But when he was only a few steps away, he suddenly halted. It wasn't fire at all, but… something else emitting a glow from within the rotting pile of wood.
Wen Tan nudged aside several logs with his foot. A pitch-black, round object rolled out, releasing a golden light that coiled and twisted like living threads, slowly crawling across its surface. It was a small incense burner, about the size of two palms. Its body was covered in a thick layer of dust, through which only faint, incomplete ancient patterns could be seen symbols that looked like inscriptions, yet not quite whole.
"This pitch-black thing… isn't it an incense burner?
And it can actually glow on its own? Whose object was left behind here?
It doesn't seem likely… it's covered in such a thick layer of dust. It must have been discarded here for a long time."
He bent down and picked it up, a chill seeping through his skin. The instant his hand made contact, the golden patterns flared brilliantly, flowing and writhing like molten lava in the depths of night. Within that dim radiance, Wen Tan could swear he heard a faint buzz echo inside his mind.
But in the span of a single breath, everything abruptly vanished. The light disappeared, and the room sank back into suffocating darkness. Only the incense burner remained in his hand dull, lifeless, black as charcoal.
"What kind of eerie thing is this… it can emit light. Could it be… a treasure artifact?"
Wen Tan swallowed hard, his heart pounding. A fragment of memory that had not fully fused earlier suddenly stirred. The moment he gazed upon the incense burner, it was abruptly absorbed, triggering a sharp pain in his head like a forgotten dream suddenly rushing back all at once:
"This… is something the original owner of this body accidentally picked up from a pile of scrap behind the mountain…"
Wen Tan stood dazed, his fingers unconsciously brushing over the faint carvings etched into the incense burner. Cold. Rough. It felt nothing like something valuable. But the golden light from earlier… could it be that his eyes had deceived him?
Outside, the ninth bell of the sect rang out.
Wen Tan tightened his grip on the incense burner. A strange mix of emotions surged within him curiosity, doubt… and a hint of unease.
"The bell signaling the end of the watch…?
I need to hurry back, or it'll be hard to explain things to that steward again."
He hastily tucked the item into his robe and walked quickly toward the menial workers' quarters, disappearing into the darkness. Behind him, the wood storage returned to its silence, as if nothing had ever happened…
Back in the service room, Wen Tan locked the door tightly, sliding the wooden bolt into place as though afraid someone might see. The cramped room was no more than three steps across damp earthen walls, a rickety wooden bed, and a gray stone table comprised all his possessions.
He sat on the edge of the bed, took a deep breath, then pulled the item from his robe. The pitch-black incense burner lay quietly in his palm, its appearance dull and ashen like burnt coal, utterly devoid of any special aura. The faint patterns looked like natural cracks, layered thick with dust no different from a discarded trinket.
"That's impossible… I didn't see it wrong, did I?
It clearly glowed just now… Where's the treasure aura? Where's my 'golden finger'?
So why isn't it glowing anymore?"
Wen Tan muttered to himself, his fingers tracing each line of the patterns, trying to find even the slightest anomaly.
Half a watch passed. The room was filled only with the rhythm of his sighs, mingled with the flickering candlelight atop the stone table. He tapped the body of the burner lightly no strange sound. Turned it upside down no hidden mechanism. He even steeled himself and poured the meager spiritual energy within his body into it, yet the incense burner remained unmoving, like a block of cold iron.
"Why is there no reaction at all…?
What exactly are you, that you could glow before and then suddenly go dead?
Could it be that I was simply too hungry earlier, saw things, and imagined it all?"
Wen Tan murmured softly, a trace of helplessness flashing in his eyes. In the original owner's memories, there was no further information only the line: 'picked up from the scrap pile behind the mountain.' From the fragmented memory he had just absorbed, he learned that in the early days of the sect's founding, the mountain behind it was known as Void Sky Mountain.
The candle gradually burned low, and darkness swallowed the room whole. Wen Tan lay back on the bed, still clutching the object in his hand as if afraid it might disappear. His eyes remained fixed on those pale patterns until his eyelids grew heavy and everything sank into oblivion.
No one knew that when his breathing finally steadied, at the deepest part of those carvings, a tiny point of light thin as a strand of silk flickered briefly, then swiftly vanished into the void…
Half-dazed amid the wavering candlelight, Wen Tan suddenly sat bolt upright, his eyes shining brightly as if a realization had struck him.
"Wait… this scene appears in every xianxia novel from my previous life!
Doesn't a magic treasure need fresh blood to recognize its master?
A divine artifact… I'm coming! Hahaha!"
Images flooded his mind great experts biting their fingers, a drop of blood falling onto a treasure, radiant light bursting forth, spiritual resonance awakening… A dazzling spectacle he had once watched countless times on a screen, utterly enthralled.
"Ha ha ha! Has my luck finally come at last?
Come on then my golden finger, light up again!"
Wen Tan chuckled softly. Even he himself felt the idea was a little ridiculous. But in his current situation, what did he have left to lose?
He lifted the incense burner and placed it neatly on the stone table, his eyes fixed on the dull gray patterns. Then, without hesitation, he bit down hard on his index finger. A drop of dark red blood immediately welled up.
The blood fell into the mouth of the incense burner, spreading across the cold surface… then slowly slid down, leaving no trace behind.
One heartbeat. Two heartbeats.
Still nothing happened.
Wen Tan frowned and tried again another drop. Then a third. The mouth of the incense burner remained icy cold, with no mystical glow flashing forth as he had imagined.
"…Wasn't there supposed to be dazzling divine light in all colors once blood was offered?
Or an ancient, powerful voice appearing out of nowhere?"
The room was so quiet that the wind whistling through the door cracks could be heard clearly.
"Damn it… was I scammed? Is reality really this different from novels?
So xianxia stories were just meant to fool people all along?
Or is it that I didn't use enough blood?
Or maybe the quality isn't good enough?"
He cursed inwardly, irritation and disappointment mixing in his chest.
After wasting blood to no avail, Wen Tan flopped onto the bed, one arm draped over his forehead, eyes staring blankly at the moldy roof tiles. The incense burner remained silent, as if mocking him, with only a few dried bloodstains clinging to its rim.
Yet just as his eyelids grew heavy and were about to close, at the very bottom of the incense burner, a thread-thin golden pattern suddenly flashed for an instant then vanished without a trace…
Wen Tan lay there with his arm over his forehead, eyes shut tight, but his mind kept circling around two things: transmigration and that strange ancient incense burner.
"I thought it was my golden finger, something that would let me stand at the peak of life…
Haizzz. Turns out it was just my own wishful thinking.
Is there really no way back? Or is this just a long dream?
If only I could wake up and still be in my rented room…
After all, this world is far too dangerous for me."
Exhaustion quickly dragged him into sleep.
…
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself standing in an endless void. Vast land stretched without end, while the sky flowed with rivers of purple qi like a galactic stream. In the distance, pillars of golden light pierced through the clouds, and the sound of an ancient bell echoed as if carried from primordial times.
Before him stood a colossal incense burner towering into the sky. Golden patterns carved with ancient spirit beasts covered its surface, each line twisting like a coiling dragon, radiating a majestic pressure that left him breathless.
"Where is this? That incense burner… isn't it… exactly the same as the one I picked up?
But why is it so enormous?!
Don't tell me I'm dreaming again?"
Wen Tan's voice trembled as he stared in disbelief.
At that moment, a sound emerged from within the incense burner like an ancient language, deep and drawn out, as if countless voices were fused into one:
"This impure flesh and blood… is not enough…
I require higher-grade flesh and blood…"
Wen Tan stammered in reply: "W-who said that? Who are you?!"
The voice did not answer. It merely echoed once more then the entire space suddenly shattered like broken glass.
…
"AAAAAAH!"
Wen Tan jolted upright, his entire body drenched in sweat, his heart pounding like a drum.
He looked around.
The familiar room. Silent darkness. The chirping of insects outside.
"A dream… so it was just a dream?"
He gasped for breath, lifting a hand to clutch his head. But in that very instant, his gaze swept toward the stone table where the incense burner sat.
Faint golden patterns were glowing upon it, wisps of mist-like qi coiling around its surface. Though it lasted only a brief moment before fading away, Wen Tan was certain he had not seen it wrong.
"Huh? Not a dream… This time, it's definitely not a dream."
He murmured, his heart filled with confusion mixed with excitement.
That incense burner… just what exactly is it?
And what does "not enough flesh and blood" mean?
"Could it be that it needs to absorb more powerful essence blood to awaken…?
If so, then it must be demon beast blood."
Suddenly, loud shouting erupted from outside, shattering the eerie atmosphere of the small room:
"Ah Tan! What the hell are you doing in there? The Fire Drink Hall is about to take roll call!"
"Hurry up! If you're late, the steward will knock your teeth out and make you drink porridge!"
Another voice followed, mocking laughter echoing loudly.
Wen Tan jolted in alarm, hurriedly tossing the incense burner into the corner of the bed and covering it with a torn piece of cloth. His heart was still pounding wildly, the mysterious voice from moments ago echoing in his mind.
"It said my essence blood wasn't enough…
That wasn't an illusion definitely not…"
He whispered to himself, yet he didn't dare linger for even a second longer.
Pushing the door open, he stepped outside. Before him lay a small courtyard still damp from last night's rain. Several figures in faded gray robes were already waiting.
"Ah Tan, where did you sleep yourself to death? Carried too much firewood yesterday, or did you sneak off to a brothel last night?"
A skinny man with sharp, crafty eyes smirked as he teased.
Wen Tan forced a smile, his thoughts in complete chaos. A brothel? I haven't even finished digesting the fact that I transmigrated, and now this?!
"Let's go. Don't keep the steward waiting. The Fire Drink Hall has to prepare extra spiritual food for the outer disciples today."
A round-faced man named Wang San interjected, his voice tinged with worry.
The group hurried off, the sound of worn sandals slapping against the ground. The scent of kitchen smoke and food drifted faintly through the air, making Wen Tan's stomach growl.
"So I've entered a cultivation world… and I still have to deal with cooking?
Didn't cultivators in movies eat spiritual fruits and drink morning dew instead of mortal food?"
He sighed, silently following the others, his mind still shaken by the image of the glowing incense burner.
"This is even worse than life on Earth…"
The steward's deep, hoarse voice rang out as Wen Tan and the group of menial disciples entered the Fire Drink Hall a spacious building with dark gray roof tiles, heat rolling out in waves. The smell of grease, smoke, and a faint hint of fresh blood mixed together, assaulting his nose and making him frown.
"You're finally here? Line up!"
The steward, Su Feng short but solidly built, bald head gleaming, sharp eyes sweeping over the group held a thin bamboo scroll and pointed as he spoke:
"Ah Rong, you go to the rice storage.
Luo Hang, Qu Yang split firewood.
You two, Ah Dan and Ah Gou, tend the fires.
And…"
His gaze stopped on Wen Tan, brows knitting slightly as if noticing his lateness.
"Ah Tan, today you're assigned to the slaughter area. Follow Uncle Chu and do as he says!"
"The… slaughter area?"
Wen Tan froze, but no one bothered to explain. A nearby disciple nudged him and sneered:
"You got lucky! You get to see demon beasts before they end up in the pot!"
Wen Tan followed an elderly man with a thin frame but sturdy shoulders. His gray robe was mottled with dried bloodstains. His hands were calloused, his back slightly hunched, and his graying hair was simply tied behind his head.
The slaughter area was set apart in a rear section. The air was cold and oppressive, the wooden floor soaked so dark with blood it was nearly black. Several demon beasts resembling wild boars and deer hung from racks only their extinguished eyes, once glimmering with faint spiritual light, set them apart. Even though they were low-grade beasts, the lingering aura made an ordinary person's heart race.
"You're Wen Tan, the new menial disciple?"
The old man spoke, his voice low and rough but steady.
"Y-yes."
"Take the knife. Do as I do. Be firm don't panic. They're already dead."
He handed Wen Tan a long blade, its edge gleaming coldly.
Wen Tan accepted it with trembling hands, one thought flashing through his mind:
Isn't this basically my old profession as a chef?
The old man glanced at him, the corner of his mouth lifting faintly in what might have been a smirk.
"This kid's eyes aren't bad. Feels steadier than the previous ones. Don't worry it's not hard. Just remember… swing the blade decisively."
Wen Tan swallowed, sweat seeping down the back of his neck..
"They're… not all dead yet?"
"Some still have a breath left. Pray for yourself."
As he spoke, the old man brought his blade down in one clean stroke, severing a demon beast's neck. Hot blood sprayed out, splattering the wooden floor crimson.
Wen Tan stared, stunned, his head spinning.
That knife is fast…
Good knife.
The old man glanced at him again and said calmly:
"Chu Zhuo. Just call me Old Chu. Get to work. If you want to eat in the outer sect, you need to get used to blood."
He flicked his blade toward a dead crane-like demon beast whose wings still twitched.
"Pluck the feathers, cut the joints, remove the organs, clean it thoroughly. You can do that, right?"
Wen Tan picked up the heavy knife resting on the chopping block. When the blade touched the crane beast's soft white feathers, it felt as though he had returned to his former life.
At first, his hands trembled, movements clumsy. Each cut either went astray or lacked force, prompting Old Chu to bark:
"Harder! This knife is for demon beasts, not slicing kitchen meat!"
Wen Tan gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and mimicked Old Chu's motions. On the third attempt, he delivered a decisive cut. Dark red blood splashed out, the stench rushing into his nose and nearly making him retch. Yet gradually, he found his rhythm each strike becoming more accurate, faster, and cleaner.
I adapted this quickly?
Or did this body used to work in kitchens too?
At first, the body was too weak even holding the knife made my hand shake but once I focused, it became easier.
He felt a faint surge of confidence.
Just then
A chilling sensation, like an invisible current, slipped into his soul. Wen Tan froze, his vision blurring slightly. The sounds of chopping bones and running water faded away, replaced by a deep, low voice echoing in his mind:
"Blood… essence blood… more… I need it…"
The voice stretched on, as if coming from the depths of nothingness, reverberating through his sea of consciousness. Wen Tan startled and dropped the knife, eyes wide.
That voice again… from last night's dream?!
His heart pounded violently as the hazy image from the dream resurfaced a pitch-black incense burner, strange carvings etched into its body, golden patterns slithering around it like tiny snakes.
This image suddenly became vividly clear in his mind.
Wen Tan hurriedly closed his eyes and relaxed his consciousness. Sure enough, within the boundless darkness of his sea of consciousness, the incense burner floated quietly. The gray-black cracks on its surface remained, but faint golden light flickered around them, like thin streams of flowing energy.
"Essence blood… absorb… bloodline…
Only through it will you grow stronger…"
The voice sounded again, clearer this time, seemingly emanating directly from the incense burner itself. Wen Tan shuddered.
"Could it be… the demon beast's blood triggered it?
But this amount still seems too little far from enough to cause a clear reaction."
He quickly looked down at his hands, still smeared with fresh demon beast blood. According to this body's memories, the incense burner had been picked up from a pile of scrap artifacts in the sect's junk storage. No one knew its use. Last night, he had tried the cliché blood-recognition method from xianxia stories yet nothing happened.
And now, merely by coming into contact with demon beast essence blood, it manifested within his consciousness…
In that instant, Wen Tan felt a tiny thread of power being siphoned from the blood on his hands, traveling along his meridians before vanishing into the incense burner in his sea of consciousness. The golden patterns on it grew slightly brighter weak, but unmistakable.
"Too little… not enough… I need more…"
The voice faded, leaving behind a tremor in his mind and countless questions.
He snapped his eyes open, sweat dotting his forehead. Thankfully, no one noticed everyone else was busy with their own tasks.
This incense burner… restores itself by absorbing essence blood?
If so… could it be a high-grade artifact? Or… something dangerous?
As more demon beast blood soaked into his hands, the image of the incense burner in his consciousness brightened again. The thread-thin golden patterns emitted a faint glow, like tiny serpents crawling over its surface.
At that very moment
A warm current surged up from deep within his meridians, slowly gathering in his lower abdomen. Wen Tan trembled, eyes widening, heart racing.
This is… spiritual energy being infused into my body unconsciously?!
Though weak like a thin mist it filled him with overwhelming excitement.
Does this mean… I can cultivate thanks to the incense burner?!
But before that joy could last even a single breath, disaster struck.
The faint spiritual energy barely reached his dantian before dispersing like smoke in the wind, scattering and vanishing completely. In an instant, everything returned to nothingness, leaving not a single trace behind.
Wen Tan stood frozen, body stiff, cold sweat soaking his back. He could clearly feel the emptiness of his dantian cold and hollow like a bottomless abyss, without even a wisp of true qi remaining.
A memory from this body suddenly surfaced in his mind:
"Severed spiritual roots… crippled spiritual root…
Unable to absorb, unable to condense…
A mortal for life."
His hand trembled, the knife nearly slipping to the ground. His heart sank to the very bottom.
A severed spiritual root… the kind of useless root scorned by ten thousand people.
Unable to draw in spiritual qi, unable to open meridians, unable to cultivate.
Meaning even if he had transmigrated to this world… he could only remain a menial disciple for the rest of his life?
He clenched his teeth hard. A flash of gloom passed through his eyes, yet deep within them flickered a trace of unwilling defiance.
No!
If I were truly useless, then why does the incense burner exist within my sea of consciousness?
Why does it need to absorb demon beast essence blood?
There must… be another path!
That voice sounded again, faintly, within his sea of consciousness, like a breeze brushing past:
"Essence blood… more… power… awakening…"
Hearing this, Wen Tan suddenly felt his blood begin to boil. Hope had not yet been extinguished. Could it really help me become stronger?
After a long, exhausting day in the Fire Drink Hall, the sky had already been dyed with the colors of dusk. Crimson clouds, like burning flames, cast their glow over the distant mountain ranges. Wen Tan stepped out of the smoke- and blood-filled building. Though his hands had been washed clean, the faint scent of demon beasts still clung to them.
He let out a long sigh, his mood heavy, as if a massive stone were pressing down on his chest. The hope that had just ignited had been cruelly snuffed out by reality.
A severed spiritual root… Am I truly destined to be a menial disciple for my entire life?
Laughter and chatter ahead pulled him from his thoughts. Three or four menial disciples were walking together, talking animatedly as they went.
The chubby one, Qi Hu, spoke excitedly: "Haha, only three days left! End of the month already! Are you all ready?"
The skinny one, Li San, snorted with a grin: "Ready for what? I've already done the math. This month the sect still gives each menial disciple four low-grade spirit stones, plus ten jin of spirit-grain rice. That alone is enough to keep me full for twenty days!"
Another man cut in:
"All you think about is eating! Here's the latest news this time the sect is making an exception. Each menial disciple will also be given an entry-level cultivation manual, the Earth-Tempering Breathing Technique!"
At those words, the group immediately erupted in excitement.
Qi Hu's eyes widened:
"What?! A cultivation technique?! Aren't those only taught to outer disciples? Why are they suddenly giving them to us?"
Li San replied smugly: "I heard it's because when the sect master held a Dharma assembly last time, the elders discussed giving menial disciples a chance. Who knows maybe a hidden talent will appear. But… don't get too happy too soon. The Earth-Tempering Breathing Technique is the lowest-grade method there is. Even if you cultivate it to the end, you'll only open two minor meridians at best."
The group burst into laughter, voices overlapping:
"Even a low-grade technique is better than nothing! Maybe once I succeed, I'll be chosen as an outer disciple and turn from a carp into a dragon!"
"You? A carp? You don't even have a spiritual root stop dreaming!"
Their laughter echoed along the stone-paved path.
Wen Tan followed behind them in silence, saying nothing. One phrase kept echoing in his mind:
"Cultivation technique…"
A Breathing Technique? What use would it be to me… I can't properly absorb spiritual qi at all. No matter how hard I try, I'll never break through any realm…
A bitter feeling welled up in his heart. This world was truly cruel even when opportunity was laid out before him, he was still nothing more than an outsider.
At the fork leading back to the menial quarters, the group split up, each returning to their tiny rooms. A few were still excitedly discussing how, once they became outer disciples, they'd receive more spirit stones and learn martial techniques.
Wen Tan walked slowly back to his narrow room, his hand unconsciously clenching into a fist. In his mind, a single thought kept repeating:
I can't cultivate the conventional way… but I still have the incense burner.
Tonight… I have to try again.