Lu Jiangxian dreamed.
Endless rice paddies stretched to the horizon. Steel flashed under a pale moon, shadows of blades crossing like lightning. A celestial sect perched on a peak, piercing the clouds. A woman stood by a vast, cold lake.
“Hand over the Taiyin Breathing Qi Art and the Essence of Moonlight Records, and we might merely cripple your cultivation.”
The voice was melodic but carried a chill that froze the marrow. Lu Jiangxian tried to focus on the speaker’s face, but it remained a hazy blur, just out of reach.
……
Clang!
A violent shock jolted him awake.
His mind spun. Colors he had no name for flashed and faded. He tried to sit up, to open his eyes, but his body didn't respond. It was as if he were pinned beneath a heavy, invisible stone.
Then, a pillar of white light pierced the dark.
The darkness surged like a black tide, trying to swallow it, but the beam held firm. Golden runes burst from the core of the light, unfurling into the void and scattering like sparks from a dying fire.
So beautiful, Lu Jiangxian thought, entranced.
The runes multiplied, straining against some invisible limit, until a sound like breaking glass echoed through his consciousness.
Crack.
The world snapped into focus.
He saw a sky of piercing blue. Below, ancient cypress trees choked the riverbank, their roots gnarled like arthritic fingers dipping into the water. The air smelled of wet moss and decaying leaves.
A streak of white light slid gracefully into the water’s rippling surface. Below sat a cluster of thatched huts with straw roofs, surrounded by muddy rice paddies.
His vision lurched. He felt weightless, soaring over the tiny village and the gray hearth-smoke rising from it, skimming low over the river.
In that fleeting glance, Lu Jiangxian caught his own reflection in the water.
A round, shiny thing... he thought, bewildered. A cold premonition settled in his chest.
I’m not human anymore.
Splash!
Gravity took hold. Lu Jiangxian sank rapidly into the water. The river was shallow; the impact drove him into the riverbed, knocking him against a green stone.
The collision felt like a punch to the gut. He gasped for air that wouldn't come. The turbulent current caught him, flipping him over until he lay face-up, staring at the sunlight dancing on the surface.
I was up late fixing a design proposal, he thought, watching the light. In my rental apartment.
He tried to recall the details, but his head throbbed. He only remembered collapsing onto his bed, exhausted. The smell of stale smoke, the glow of neon lights outside the window, the warm condensation on a beer bottle.
Then, the spinning dizziness. The heart racing wildly in his chest. The breath that just wouldn't come.
I think... I died?
That’s not bad, he realized, a hollow feeling spreading through him. No more deadlines. No more rent.
Perhaps because he had been ground down by life for too long, the thought brought a strange, quiet relief.
He took stock of his surroundings. Dark green roots dangled from above, swaying with the current. A water beetle skimmed past, and the faint sound of splashing water echoed nearby.
Lu Jiangxian sighed internally.
But if this keeps up, I’m going to die of boredom.
So he watched. The shadows of the roots stretched across the gravel, then shortened as the sun climbed. A brilliant sunset burned itself out, and the river beneath the trees dimmed into shadows.
Two fish swam circles around him. A crab scuttled over and tried to flip him over with its claw, giving up when he wouldn't budge.
It wasn't until the moon climbed above the treetops that things changed.
Clear, soft moonlight filtered down to the riverbed. Lu Jiangxian felt a refreshing energy seep into him—a vague, comforting coolness.
He watched the light gather above his body, taking shape, forming a faint, white halo.
Lu Jiangxian froze. His relief vanished, replaced by a sharp spike of alarm.
What is this? Devouring the essence of the sun and moon?
Are there really immortals in this world? Divine powers? Monsters? Ghosts and gods?
Then what am I? A tool spirit?
Deep within, a surge of curiosity rose to meet the fear. The halo of moonlight seemed to reach a critical mass; it drifted down and settled onto him.
A chill washed over his entire form. He sank into a trance that was neither sleep nor wakefulness.
He lost track of time. The flow of energy thinned, and Lu Jiangxian woke with a start. The crescent moon had faded, and the sun was already above the treetops, casting warm morning light over the river.
That was fast.
He couldn't contain his delight. Focusing inward, he sensed a faint current of energy circulating inside him, moving in a loop around the edge of his body.
He concentrated. Through his own eyes, he could vaguely see a grayish-green mirror lying quietly on the riverbed. Colorful pebbles paved the bottom, and several fish were foraging nearby.
That crab was still digging in the mud. His view was grainy and indistinct, like an old CRT TV, limited to a meter in all directions.
So this is me now, Lu Jiangxian thought, amused.
He experimentally pushed the energy to the center of the mirror. The grayish-green surface immediately emitted a thread of light.
Aside from glowing, I haven't found any other use.
I'll keep absorbing the moonlight properly for now. Maybe there will be a qualitative change, he planned silently. I don't know what material I'm made of, or how the world views spiritual objects.
Suddenly, the water above him surged. A massive shadow swept across the riverbed, plunging his vision into twilight.
Lu Jiangxian looked up, straining his limited vision against the glare. A long, narrow shape was skimming just above the water's surface, moving with impossible speed. It wasn't a bird. The glint of sunlight caught a sharp, metallic edge.
A flying sword?
The object paused directly overhead, the water churning from its wake. Lu Jiangxian held his metaphorical breath, terrified the slightest movement would give him away.
I’d better not be discovered by some cultivator who decides to wipe out my consciousness on a whim.