Chu Feng woke to a pain that felt as if it were drilling into his heart.
He abruptly opened his eyes. A pink gauze canopy filled his view, and a sweet, cloying but not overpowering scent lingered beneath his nose. The smell was strange and unfamiliar, nothing like the mix of instant noodles and takeout in his rented apartment.
“Argh...” He tried to prop himself up, but a tearing pain shot through his chest, making him suck in a sharp breath. Just then, a wave of memories that weren't his flooded his mind. The original owner was also named Chu Feng, an outer disciple of the Hehuan Sect in the Qingyun Realm. He had mediocre aptitude and, after three years of cultivation, was still stuck at the third level of Qi Refining. He was famous throughout the sect as a “second-rate good-for-nothing.” Yesterday, after accidentally witnessing Zhao Hu, an inner disciple, secretly skimming cultivation resources meant for the outer disciples, he was cornered behind a rockery and beaten by Zhao Hu and his men. His injuries were so severe that he died on the spot, and then the modern-day Chu Feng took over his body.
“The Hehuan Sect? A cultivation world?” Chu Feng struggled to process the memories, completely dumbfounded. Just a moment ago, he had been at his computer rushing to finish a project report. After working overtime continuously, he had died suddenly. How had he opened his eyes in a place that existed only in novels? And not only was he a good-for-nothing, he'd transmigrated into the Hehuan Sect, famous for dual cultivation?
