Dying Is Not an Option—Tell That to My System!

Lu Chunhe had one rule—stay low-key.

He had read too many transmigration stories to know how things worked. In those novels, the main character could do whatever they wanted because the author handed them plot armor. But in real life? If you acted like an idiot, you'd end up dead.

Right now, he was hiding in Liuhe Village, a quiet place surrounded by green hills and a slow-moving river. It looked peaceful, but Lu Chunhe knew better. Even small villages had dangers—bandits, corrupt officials, and worse.

And he was already on the wrong side of things.

The Dark Thunder Sect wanted him dead. Last time, he had barely escaped with his life. If they found him again, there wouldn't be a next time. Even though he had his spatial farm as a hidden card, it didn't make him invincible. One wrong move, one careless moment, and he'd be a cold corpse in the dirt.

A sudden knock at the door broke the silence.

Lu Chunhe's hand froze. He wasn't expecting visitors. His heart tensed. In this kind of world, a knock at the wrong time usually meant trouble.

He let out a slow breath. "Enter."

The door creaked open. Old Li, the village carpenter, stood outside. His face was serious.

"Chunhe, something happened near the river. You should come see."

Lu Chunhe frowned but put down his work. Trouble, huh? He had a bad feeling about this.

As they reached the riverbank, his stomach twisted.

Corpses.

Bodies lay scattered in the shallow water, their robes slashed, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles. The air stank of blood and burnt Qi—clear signs of a battle between cultivators. Some of the bodies were still fresh, others had already started to stiffen.

The village chief stood nearby, his hands behind his back. His old face was calm, but his eyes held a heavy look. When he saw Lu Chunhe, he gave a small nod.

"This is bad," the chief muttered. "Looks like a battle between sects. No good will come from this."

Lu Chunhe crouched near a corpse, careful not to touch it. The man wore dark robes with a lightning emblem. His breath hitched.

Dark Thunder Sect.

Damn it.

He forced himself to stay calm and checked another body. This one wore green robes with a crescent moon symbol. He didn't recognize the group, but they were clearly strong.

The chief sighed. "Chunhe, gather some of the men. We'll bury the bodies. If we leave them here, trouble will come knocking."

Lu Chunhe hesitated. "Shouldn't we report this?"

The chief gave him a sharp look. "And invite sect warriors or officials? The moment they come, they'll start looking for someone to blame. And it won't be the dead men."

Lu Chunhe clenched his jaw. In this world, the weak had no rights. If powerful people got involved, the village would suffer.

Just as he was about to reply, a low growl shattered the silence.

Big D, the village dog, stood beside the corpses, fur bristling.

Lu Chunhe turned his head—

One of the "dead" men moved.

A weak breath escaped his lips. Blood bubbled from his mouth.

A survivor.

The chief's face darkened. "This… is even worse."