Li Qingran had never seen anything like this before.
It was one thing for a cultivator to build a house with spells, but to instantly transform a rundown hut into a sturdy stone house? That was beyond comprehension.
And then there was the food and clothing that had appeared out of thin air.
Summoning an item from a storage ring was common, but that always involved spatial fluctuations. Yet here, no such energy had been felt—everything had simply materialized.
Creating something from nothing…
This wasn’t just magic. This was divine power.
Could this be the work of a Spiritualization Stage cultivator? Or perhaps… a Fusion Stage master?
Even her master, Taoist Qingxuan, a terrifying figure in the Spiritualization Stage, could not perform such miracles. He could transmute ingredients into a prepared dish, but he could not conjure food from nothing.
Unless… he had never bothered to learn. After all, cultivators beyond Foundation Establishment no longer needed to eat.
The rich aroma of roasted meat filled the air, making Li Qingran’s stomach tighten.
Since losing her cultivation, she had struggled to find safe food. The meat of many demonic beasts was poisonous, and without her spiritual senses, she couldn’t distinguish safe from deadly. She had survived on wild fruits and bitter roots—barely enough to keep her alive.
But hiding under the bed forever wasn’t a solution.
After hesitating for a long time, she finally peeked out cautiously.
Her fingers gripped the bedframe as she gathered her courage.
“Senior,” she called softly. “May this humble disciple ask which great master has cast such powerful spells?”
Silence.
Only the rhythmic pounding of rain against the bamboo window answered her.
No presence. No fluctuations.
Li Qingran bit her lip. Her heart pounded.
Was the senior invisible?
Or… was he watching her right now?
Her cheeks burned.
She was hiding under the bed. Like a terrified little animal.
And earlier, when she had flinched away from that light touch on her foot… was that his hand? Warm, steady—like a teasing gesture?
A surge of embarrassment hit her.
Enough. If I am to die, then so be it.
Steeling herself, she crawled out from under the bed.
Scanning the room, she found no sign of anyone.
Her gaze fell on the table—piled high with steaming delicacies.
Gulp.
Her stomach roared in protest.
Still, she did not immediately eat.
Instead, she knelt beside the table, pressed her hands together, and bowed deeply.
“Senior, if you do not wish to reveal yourself, may I humbly ask if this food is meant for me? If you remain silent, I will not touch your offerings—even if I starve to death.”
Then, she closed her eyes and waited.
Chen Huai’an had been cooking lunch—just a simple tomato and egg stir-fry.
When he returned to his phone, he found Li Qingran sitting stiffly at the table, her face pale, sweat beading on her forehead.
Her delicate nose twitched as she resisted the temptation of food, her posture a strange mix of discipline and suffering.
Chen Huai’an couldn’t help but laugh.
“Why are you meditating in front of food? Training your willpower?”
A pop-up appeared:
[Li Qingran requests permission to eat. Do you agree?]
“…Huh?”
Even eating needed permission?
“So strict?”
Shaking his head, he tapped “Agree.”
The moment he did, Li Qingran’s eyes shot open in astonishment.
Then—joy.
“Thank you, Senior!”
Chen Huai’an almost dropped his phone.
She spoke.
A clear, elegant voice, as crisp as a mountain stream.
“What the hell? This game has voice acting?”
Until now, he had assumed the game was purely text-based. There was no background music—only natural ambient sounds, like the gentle crackling of the stove and the drumming of rain.
But now…
This meant Li Qingran had a fully voiced dialogue system?
“Damn. This ‘indie’ game is seriously high-budget!”
Chen Huai’an continued watching as Li Qingran began to eat.
At first, she took small, careful bites.
Then—her chopsticks moved faster.
Then—she completely devoured the meal, like a starving beast.
“…Yep. Definitely a game. No way a real person eats that fast.”
When she finally finished, Li Qingran took a small silk towel and wiped her mouth gracefully.
Then, blushing, she knelt again and bowed deeply.
“Senior, I have not tasted such delicious food in years. I will never forget your kindness!”
Her words were filled with sincere gratitude.
But her mind was in turmoil.
Just moments ago, as she meditated, she had heard a voice.
A single syllable.
“Ke.”
The sound had echoed inside her very soul, vibrating through her bones like a divine decree.
When she opened her eyes, she had seen a massive golden character floating above the food, formed entirely from spiritual energy.
This was not normal sound transmission.
Most cultivators who transmitted sound through spiritual energy merely borrowed the existing energy around them.
But this character had been created from nothing.
How far away was this mysterious senior?
How powerful was he?
Li Qingran shivered.
She had stumbled into the domain of a god.
But—if he meant her harm, he would have done something by now.
For now, she would trust him.
Rising, she glanced outside.
The rain was heavier than before.
If not for this miraculous stone house, her old hut would have collapsed by now.
“Senior, I will clean the dishes now.”
She carried the plates outside.
The downpour blurred the landscape into streaks of gray. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Under the eaves, she found the wooden barrel she had set out to collect rainwater. Now full, it would be perfect for washing dishes.
[Li Qingran is washing dishes.]
[Li Qingran’s favorability +5. Current favorability: 10.]
Chen Huai’an chuckled.
“She even does housework? And there’s a favorability system?”
This game kept surprising him.
The characters weren’t just lifelike—they lived.
Why had he never seen this game advertised anywhere?
A notification popped up:
[Identity and medical report will be ready in a few minutes.]
Chen Huai’an decided to explore the game’s other features.
Clicking on the map, he expected the game world to be limited to the house.
But—
The map expanded.
And expanded.
Li Qingran’s house was only a tiny dot.
The surrounding land was shrouded in black fog, indicating unexplored territory.
Not far from her location was a massive complex labeled with three golden characters:
“Qingyun Sect.”
Chen Huai’an narrowed his eyes.
“Wasn’t that her old sect?”
If Qingyun Sect was so close, why was she alone and abandoned in the wilderness?
Something wasn’t right.
Zooming out further—
His expression changed.
Five red dots had appeared.
And they were moving—
Rushing toward Li Qingran’s location.
