Cultivating Immortality began with Farming.

I woke in darkness.

My head throbbed, and my vision blurred as if a heavy fog clouded my mind. Something large hovered above me—a shadow with outstretched wings. It swooped closer, its presence pressing down on me, and I could hear the sharp rustling of its feathers cutting through the air. A predator, maybe.

Was it coming for me?

I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t respond. Pain in my chest kept me pinned down, overwhelming. The shadowy figure—no, a bird, I realized—hesitated. Its shape wavered in my vision, as if confused. Then it let out a sharp hiss, flapped its wings in frustration, and lifted away, vanishing into the darkness above.

For a moment, I lay still, gasping for breath. My mind was sluggish, struggling to piece together where I was—or how I got here. Slowly, the numbness in my body began to fade, replaced by a burning ache. My stomach felt like it had been ripped open. I pressed my hand against it, but instead of raw, bloody flesh, something strange was happening. No, two—

I blinked, forcing my eyes to focus. The torn skin around my abdomen was… healing. Slowly, but visibly, the blood and shredded muscle were knitting themselves back together.

“What…?” I muttered, my voice weak, barely a whisper. Within moments, the pain eased. When I looked down again, my chest was smooth. The wound had vanished completely as if it had never been there at all.

If that was the end of the strange things, I wouldn’t have been so dumbfounded. My fingers brushed against my now bloody, unblemished skin. Something soft flickered against my leg.

A tail?

I jerked, heart pounding. What the hell?

I tried to sit up, my hands shooting out to balance myself. That’s when I saw them: delicate, pale hands with sharp nails at the tips. Not my hands. My breath hitched, and I looked down. I was wearing a robe—soft and unfamiliar—but underneath it, I felt the distinct presence of… tails. Not one, but several.

Nine tails.

I gasped, the sound strangled in my throat. I reached behind me and grabbed at them—each one thick, furred, and real. My pulse raced. My hands flew to my head, only to find two long, pointed ears nestled in my hair.

“What the—” My voice cracked, softer and more feminine than I remembered.

Panicking, I scrambled to my feet and stumbled toward a nearby puddle, faint moonlight reflecting off its surface. The face that stared back at me wasn’t mine.

A young woman, no older than 23, with large golden eyes and raven-dark hair cascading down her shoulders, looked back at me. Her cherry-red lips parted in shock, mirroring my own. I blinked, and she blinked back. Her features were striking, sharp, and almost otherworldly. I touched my face—her face—and my fingers grazed smooth skin, a narrow jawline, and two triangular ears poking through the hair.

“I’m… a fox-girl?” The words came out shaky, and my voice—higher, unfamiliar—didn’t calm me. I was Baek-Luchion-Jagi, an ordinary guy. I’d come home from a usual stressful day at my office job, play a dumb video game in bed, and eat a bowl of cereal. Now… this? Was this a dream?

I scrambled backward, nearly tripping over my tails—tails!—and tried to gather my thoughts. How was this even possible?

As I struggled to make sense of it, my breathing was ragged, and I clutched at my chest, hoping to find something familiar. But nothing was. My body was entirely foreign. I was a nine-tailed fox-girl.

I forced myself to sit up, my heart still racing. Think, Baek-Luchion-Jagi. The last thing I remembered was that stupid game, and now I was… here, in this body.

Then, memories that weren’t mine flashed through my mind. This body wasn’t mine. It belonged to someone else—someone named Qin Jaewon Yeon.

Flashes of her life flooded in. Qin Jaewon Yeon—a small-time magical plant farmer, working for the Southern Mortal Pavilion, scraping by on the fringes of the Shen Lian Sect. She had dreamed of joining the sect but failed to progress beyond the first level of Divine Sea after seven years of struggle. Her rejection, her struggles, her life in the shadows of the mighty sect—all of it was hers.

And now, somehow, I had become her.

I swallowed hard, trying to focus on these foreign memories. They were becoming clearer—her pain, her frustrations, and her failure to cultivate. It was overwhelming. But I had to figure out how she died. There was a flash—a black-clad figure in a bamboo hat. That was all. No face, just a blurry image. Whoever killed her must have been strong, far beyond her abilities.

I glanced around and noticed the remnants of what looked like a maize field. Something tugged at the back of my mind—her mind, now. This was her field. She had worked it with painstaking care, hoping to survive another season.

I touched my waist instinctively, hoping to find something familiar, something to ground me. But panic flared when I realized everything was gone. Her belongings, her magical portion for cultivation, the Bǎo Rán Pills she had saved—gone.

“Damn it!” I cursed under my breath, startled by the sound of my own voice. It was strange, hearing my anger come out in this soft, feminine tone. But the reality was sinking in fast. Without those pills, I was as good as dead. As a low-level cultivator, I couldn’t survive on mortal food anymore.

Feeling the weight of my tails dragging behind me, I shifted them awkwardly, trying to keep them under control. This body—this nine-tailed fox-girl—was nothing like what I had been before. I sighed, looking over the maize field again. The green stalks swayed gently in the breeze. If nothing else, I still had the crops. But without the Bǎo Rán pills, my plan for the next few months was shattered.

“Do I have to beg Old Man Mo Yuju for spirit stones now?” I muttered bitterly. I already knew the answer. He wasn’t generous, and asking for more without collateral would be a long shot.

I glanced up at the sky and sighed. I needed to water the fields. If I didn’t keep them growing, I’d lose everything. Raising my hand, I made the familiar gesture—Dog (Inu)—for the only spell I knew. A cloud began to form above the field, and rain—infused with Qi—started to fall, nourishing the crops.

The spell drained me, taking nearly a third of my Qi as I gasped for air. I’d need to rest before I could do anything else.

Just as I was about to sit down, a bright translucent character appeared before my eyes.

[Rain-fall Technique +1]

I blinked in surprise. What was this?

Before I could even process it, a panel appeared in front of me, like something out of the games I used to play back home:

[Name: Qin Jaewon Yeon/Baek-Luchion-Jagi.]

[Profession: Farmer.]

[Advanced Profession: Magical Farmer...]

[Lifespan: 23/280]

[Cultivation: First stage of Divine Sea.]

[Skill: Qi Regeneration(19/100)]

[Spells:]

[Rain-fall Technique (beginner): 36/100]

[Water Fist (Manipulation)—(First level: 11/100]

[Farming benefit: Increase Growth Production (Magical Plants)]

My heart raced. Could this be—? Did the original Qin Jaewon Yeon see this when he was alive? Was it some hidden advantage in this strange new world?

I shook my head, dismissing the thought. If he had seen something like this, he wouldn’t have lived like a third grader. That means—

“Hah…”

A sharp breath escaped me, disbelief still gripping my chest as my eyes locked on the screen. My pulse pounded in my ears, my hands tightening around the edges of my robes. I couldn’t look away. The words on the screen seemed to pulse with a life of their own as if daring me to believe what I was seeing.

[Increase Growth Production (Magical Plants): Incorporate Qi into gathering clouds and making rainfall to increase the production of Magical plants. This Farming benefit can be integrated into the RainFall technique, and other planting techniques and the output of spiritual fields will increase by 15% (the rain-fall technique can only be integrated after reaching the proficient level).]

A grin spread across my face. Maybe things weren’t as hopeless as they seemed after all.

— — — — 

“Increase Growth Production? By 15%?”

For a moment, my mind spun as my bushy tails tensed up, curling at the ends. A bitter laugh slipped out. Fifteen percent? That’s it?

In the novels I used to read, transmigrators always had cheat-like advantages—immortality shortcuts, world-shattering techniques, insane power-ups. But me? A slight boost in farming yields. I guess I’m destined to be average, in this life and the last. Still, it’s better than nothing.

If I can upgrade the Rainfall technique before the magical maize matures, I’ll get an extra 381 kilograms per acre. Not bad, considering it’s tax-free, pest-resistant, and immune to bad weather. No harvesting errors either, since I inherited the real Qin Jaewon Yeon’s flawless technique. No mold or fungal infections, thanks to the untainted Qi in the soil. And best of all? It’s all mine.

It’s not glamorous, but in this cutthroat cultivation world, every corn counts.

I recalled casting the Rainfall spell earlier and noticed my proficiency had increased by one. So, if I keep casting it, can I level up the technique? The original Qin Jaewon Yeon struggled with advanced spells, so maybe this could work.

Maybe this was my way forward.

Determined, I formed the hand sign again. Dark clouds started gathering, but then I paused. Wait. After the harvest season, magical maize needs rain every four days—not twice a day. Sure, this isn’t Earth, but if I overdo it, the roots will bloat. Four days, one point of proficiency—three months, 22 points? Nowhere near enough for an upgrade.

Great. Now what?

Sighing, I trudged toward my wooden hut, my nine tails flicking the dirt in agitation. This little house, the only thing I owned after renting the magical field, seemed smaller every time I came back. At least the Hengshan sect’s protection array kept me safe—unless another crazed cultivator decided to show up, willing to risk the sect’s wrath. I shuddered, remembering the last attack. I could still feel the blood on my robe.

I kicked off the bloodstained robe and changed into something plain, sitting at the rough wooden table. The room was bare—just a bed, chair, and table. Definitely not a life of luxury. I poured myself a glass of water, bringing it to my lips. As I sipped water, a thought hit me like lightning. My field can’t take any more rain, but… other people’s fields can.

I scanned the endless stretch of magical fields surrounding mine. Sure, I couldn’t overwater my land, but maybe my neighbors could use some extra rain. And I could trade.

South? Sa Tae Kang. I shuddered at the thought of him—definitely not the friendliest farmer-cultivator, and not one to negotiate. His bald head, wrinkled face, and gruff demeanor didn’t help either.

West? Some poor cultivator who rented less land than I did. Not much potential there.

Then my gaze landed on the fields to the east—Feng Xiu’s fields. She had plenty of land and might be open to a deal. Worth a shot.

I reached her wooden house quickly, my tails flicking nervously as I knocked. “Old Feng, are you home?”

A gruff voice answered from the pavilion nearby. “Who’s at my door?”

“It’s me, Qin Jaewon, your dear neighbor.”

… I hope this deal goes well.