The Smiling, Proud Wanderer: I Nearly Got Killed by Old Yue from the Start

Li Wei, who had driven a heavy-duty truck for eight years, dropped dead at the wheel. As luck would have it, the Great Transport Sect of the cultivation world was holding a “traffic accident pickup.” Their truck hit a young man on a zebra crossing and took the innocent driver along for the ride. When he arrived, they only wanted the “chosen one” they'd hit. They flat-out refused to take the driver, the free extra thrown in with the purchase. To shut him up, the person in charge tossed him a pill. “Eat this. It'll remake your body and let you throw your weight around in another world.” Li Wei believed him. But before he even landed, he heard that bastard add, “It's defective, though.” When he opened his eyes again, he had become a nine-year-old disciple of the Huashan Sect. Before he could catch his breath, he looked up to find the whole sect dead, blood flowing like a river, and Yue Buqun's sword tip pressed against his neck. “Survivors of the Sword Sect. Leave no one alive.”