On his first day after transmigrating to the cultivation world, Lin Yanyu nearly got hacked to death by three bandits.
His will to survive kicked in. “If you’re going to kill someone, don’t you need a reason?”
The bandits had an epiphany on the spot. Weeping, they cried, “Thank you, Senior, for enlightening us!” Then they ran off.
Lin Yanyu: ???
Later, he discovered that this world had a bizarre rule: the higher your cultivation, the more you loved “reading between the lines.”
He said, “The weather’s nice today,” and people took it as a lesson on the Great Way of Yin and Yang.
He said, “I’m hungry,” and it was revered as the Cultivation Method of Returning to Simplicity.
He said, “Can you all please act normal?” and they enshrined him on the sect’s founder’s altar.
Lin Yanyu just wanted to lie flat, but the cultivation world wouldn’t let him.
The supreme champion of the righteous path begged for his guidance, demonic overlords wept as they asked to become his disciples, and ancient powerhouses queued up for a single word of nonsense from him.
Even the Heavenly Dao personally showed up to ask, “Do you know what the Dao is?”
Lin Yanyu really didn’t know.
But he didn’t say so. He’d realized that as long as he kept quiet, everyone else would think up an answer for him.
And their answers were always more spectacular than anything he could have said.
This is the story of a protagonist who “speaks plainly” and gets forcibly deified in a world where no one acts like a normal person.
