My name is Chen Mo. I spent three years preparing for the civil service exam, and in my third year, I failed to make it to the interview stage again.
That night, after going over my mistake notebook one last time, a golden light flashed before my eyes, and I transmigrated to a world where people could cultivate immortality.
I thought transmigration meant I could lie flat, but the rules in this world were even harsher: mortals weren't allowed to cultivate immortality. Want to cultivate? Take the exams first. The law exam, the practical exam, the policy exam, the test of the heart, each one more twisted than the last.
The good news was that I'd spent three years taking exams. I might not know much else, but solving questions was my specialty.
The bad news was that the mysterious stele in my dantian only ate “wrong answers.” It wouldn't touch questions others got right. The more incorrect, edited, or suspicious a question was, the tastier it found it. After eating, it even boosted my cultivation.
Qi Refining, first level, second level, seventh level... Others spent ten years cultivating painstakingly; one year of grinding through questions let me make more progress than they made in half a lifetime.
I passed the exam to become a Dao Registry disciple of the Nation-Guarding Bureau. I secured a year in the library. I fought my way to first place in the sect tournament.
So what if I have no spiritual roots? So what if I'm a mortal? In this cultivation world, I can still make the cut.
