The First Transmigrat

My days followed a rhythm by now—quiet mornings, long meditation under the trees, hanging out with Old Dao, refining myself piece by piece. Life was simple. Calm. Good.

That morning, though, the atmosphere around the academy was a little more theatrical than usual. Turns out, the owner of the Martial Academy had decided to show up. Not just any instructor, but the wise, ancient sage himself. The Great Martial Patriarch. The guy who probably had his face carved into some mountain somewhere.

I saw him from a distance.

He walked slowly, each step deliberate, long white robes flowing like a river spirit. His beard was immaculate—clearly oiled and trimmed daily. He posed near his disciples like he was being painted, hand behind his back, offering insights in a deep, gravelly voice. Probably said something like "Feel the qi of the world," or "Balance is within," that kind of stuff.

I held my laugh in.

He wasn't a bad guy. I mean, he looked the part, had three senior disciples fawning over him like loyal puppies, and he spoke in poetic metaphors. Classic martial arts stuff.

But all that wisdom and stage presence just made me want to giggle.

Anyway.

After my amusement with the sage ended, I returned to my usual spot under a tree. That's when I noticed him again—the kid.

He'd been watching me for over a week now, every single day. Just staring. I tried to ignore him, but that stare… sharp, full of curiosity and just a bit of irritation, like he couldn't understand what the hell I was doing.

Eventually, I got tired of it.

"What do you want?" I asked, opening one eye.

The kid didn't hesitate. "I want you to become my master!"

I blinked. Then burst into laughter.

He looked serious. I just waved him off and walked away, leaving him standing there with his fists clenched like some righteous protagonist from a bad novel.

Later that evening, I overheard some gossip.

Turns out… that brat was no ordinary kid. He was the son of a Duke. A Duke. Holy hell.

I didn't believe it at first. Thought someone was pulling my leg. But Old Dao confirmed it. Apparently, the academy master had been trying to convince the Duke to send his heir here for years with no success.

But turns out, that wasn't it.

The brat just ran away from home.

Wanted to become a martial hero. Roam the world. Live the jianghu life or whatever romantic nonsense he'd read in books.

I laughed so hard I almost spat out my tea.

The brat—his name was Zhen or Jin or something, I forgot—kept pestering me.

He tried all sorts of ways to please me. Brought me food. Tried to flatter me. Tried calling me "Master" in public. I ignored him every time.

Once, I told him flat out, "Martial arts are a scam."

He froze like I'd slapped him across the face.

He tried to say something—his voice rose, a bunch of words about honor, dreams, swordsmanship, and some grand destiny—but I honestly didn't listen. I just walked away mid-sentence.

For a few days after that, he left me alone.

Peace returned.

I spent time refining myself—less on the body now, more on the soul. I'd already refined my nerves, organs, muscles, and even my energy control. Now, I was shifting inward.

That night, in meditation, I focused on my soul.

It was strange.

When I looked inside, I saw it—this small blob of light. Pale and soft, with a greenish glow at the center. It pulsed gently, surrounded by wispy threads of color. But near the edges, floating lazily, were these… leech-like things. Blackish-brown, drifting like parasites around a star.

I didn't touch them. Not yet.

I closed the vision and went outside, letting the cold night air wash over me. The stars shimmered. Distant. Silent.

Next day, Old Dao was in a particularly annoying mood.

"Time to start a family," he said.

"I'll think about it," I replied.

That seemed to satisfy him—for now.

Then he raised an eyebrow. "Been to a brothel yet?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"No interest."

"Tea, then?"

"Yes."

He sighed dramatically. "You're no fun."

We drank in silence after that. Some days, Old Dao liked to test the boundaries of my patience. But we both knew the game. He was the only person I could tolerate for hours.

On my way back that day, guess who I saw again?

Yep. The brat.

He was standing awkwardly by the gate, clearly waiting for me.

The moment he saw me, he ran up.

"Why do you sit like that all day if there's no martial arts?" he asked, frustrated.

I ignored him.

"I mean, if you don't believe in cultivation, why do you meditate? Why do you breathe like that? Why do you move like—?"

I walked right past him.

He tried to keep talking, but the more I ignored him, the quieter he got.

Then one day, he tried a new tactic.

Old Dao invited me over, and there he was—sitting in the corner, grinning like an idiot.

"he bribed you," I said to Old Dao.

Old Dao just shrugged. "Free wine."

The brat didn't give up after that. He followed me around like a shadow. But he stopped talking so much. Just sat nearby, imitating my posture. Probably thought I was secretly teaching him through silence or something.

He called himself my disciple now.

Said he was enduring my "mysterious trials."

I didn't correct him.

He brought food, and I ate it. Didn't ask for it, but if he insisted, I wasn't going to refuse free meals.

Time passed like that.

Then came another rumor: the Crown Prince had gone missing. Again.

I just raised an eyebrow.

"Oh well. Who cares."

Later that evening, I asked Old Dao a question that had been on my mind for a while.

"Why do you like herbs so much?"

He smiled, leaning back.

"When I was young," he said, "I wanted to be a grand martial hero too. Fought in wars, climbed mountains, took wounds. One day, a little girl saved my life with a weed growing out of a rock. Since then… I decided I'd rather learn how to save lives than break bones."

I nodded slowly.

He sipped his tea. "Besides, the herb market's good money."

We both laughed.

Under the twilight sky, wind rustling through the trees, I sat back and stared into the horizon.

A brat at my heels, an old man at my side, leeches in my soul, and a missing prince I didn't care about.

Yeah.

Life was weird.

But I liked it.