Character Status Screen
Name: Yang Haoxuan
Level: 8
World Tier: Martial Cultivator - 4th Layer
Class: Full-time
HP: 314/314
MP: 178/178
Strength: 78
Intelligence: 265
Spirit: 36
Agility: 64
Class Skills: Fireball +4 (Mage)
Life Skills: None
Available Stat Points: 20
Available Skill Points: 4
Another night, another breakthrough.
Yang Haoxuan had leveled up—again. But unlike before, the excitement felt different this time. As the levels climbed, so did the difficulty. This wasn't the early game anymore. He was playing in the big leagues now. And the sheer complexity of the world in Longevity Codex—Changsheng Jue—was beginning to show.
Without hesitation, he dumped all his stat points into Intelligence. The logic was simple: higher Intelligence meant faster cultivation speed, and that was all that mattered right now.
But when it came to the skill points, he paused. Instead of impulsively maxing out Fireball, he opened the skill interface and began analyzing the options. A good player never wasted a resource—not in this world.
Warriors, for instance, weren't just brawlers. In Fantasy World, they were veritable tanks—human fortresses. Their core skill, Stoneform, once unlocked at level 30, boosted base defense by 60% and health by 30%. It made them near unkillable. Sure, he couldn't learn it yet, but the basic Warrior skills were available.
A plan began forming in his mind. What if he used Warrior moves as a smokescreen? Throw in a surprise Fireball mid-combo—bam, caught the enemy off guard. The idea was almost thrilling.
He learned Quick Slash, the fundamental Warrior skill.
Was it strong? He had no clue. In the game, numbers told the story. But here, it was all about execution. Still a bit hesitant, he committed a point to it.
And like magic, the knowledge flooded his mind—how to grip the blade, where to pivot, how to strike.
With a flick of thought, a battle saber appeared in his hand. It felt... natural. Like he'd trained with it his whole life. He didn't question the feeling.
In his room, he practiced. Three rapid slashes formed one full combo of Quick Slash. The blade sliced through the air with a haunting whoosh, his body dancing like a swordsman in a martial arts film—fluid, aggressive, and deadly.
Three strikes—Yin and Yang, strength and finesse, hard and soft.
Then, instinctively, he chained the second strike into the next sequence, and again. His form became faster, sharper. The original combo expanded into something new. Something alive.
It was exhilarating.
He could feel his Strength and Agility responding, his body lighter, faster—like he'd shed dead weight and been reborn.
A wild grin spread across his face.
"Yes!"
With excitement pumping through his veins, he threw another point into Quick Slash, then turned back to the mage path and added a point to Fireball. At level five, it unlocked the next tier of Mage skills—a potential game-changer.
But just as he was about to explore further, a memory stirred—Longevity Codex.
Everyone said it was useless, but that couldn't be true. If it was a joke, why was it hidden so deeply in the system? There had to be a powerful secret art hidden inside. He just hadn't found it—yet.
Once Fireball hit level 5, the system revealed a new Mage technique. From the description alone, he could tell—it was the class's ultimate move.
His eyes lit up with anticipation.
"Yang Ying may be at the sixth layer now, but give me a few more days…" A smirk tugged at his lips. "When the time comes, I'll make him pay for humiliating me. That's a promise. After all, what kind of transmigrator lets a rival walk away unpunished?"
By the time morning light crept through the window, Yang Haoxuan had reached the fourth layer of Martial Cultivation.
Back in the original owner's memory, that kind of progress was unheard of. Miraculous, even. Naturally, he was feeling pretty pleased with himself.
At breakfast, he casually chatted with his father, Yang Batian.
"Oh, right—Haoxuan," Yang Batian said between bites. "When you were returning from the Great Yan Mountains, did you pass by Red Maple Lake?"
Red Maple Lake?
Yang Haoxuan's mind instantly conjured the image of a beautiful young woman—wasn't her name Yan Ya? Why was his father asking about her?
Feigning ignorance, he replied, "I was hurrying back, didn't really pay attention."
"Hmm." Yang Batian didn't press the issue. "Well, turns out the Ninth Princess was attacked near Red Maple Lake the day you returned. Heard her face got disfigured. Can you believe that? The Ninth Princess! She's a genius—already at the ninth layer at her age. And her master? Someone with serious backing."
That offhand comment hit Yang Haoxuan like a thunderbolt.
The Ninth Princess… is Yan Ya?!
His mind raced. That night… he had used Fireball. But it was barely powerful enough to dent someone at the second layer. Yan Ya was at the ninth! How could she possibly be injured?
Unbeknownst to him, the Fireball hadn't actually hurt her—it merely startled her. In the panic, some shrapnel from the explosion nicked her cheek. A minor wound, really. But on a woman's face? People called it "disfigurement."
Everyone assumed the assailant must have been a powerful cultivator. Someone far beyond Yang Haoxuan's known level. So even though a few had suspected him, they quickly dismissed the idea.
"Damn," Yang Haoxuan muttered, guilt flashing across his face. "Sinful… I'll make it up to her someday." He remembered the system mentioned a cosmetic skill under life professions. Maybe one day he could fix this mess.
After the meal, he strolled through the manor's garden, soaking in the role of a pampered heir. He even took the time to admire the elegant maids as they passed, each one more graceful than the last.
By evening, he was ready to get back to cultivation—until a young servant came running.
"Young Master! Master Huang is here to see you!"
"Huang? Huang Peng?" Yang Haoxuan blinked, then smirked as he pulled up the memory. A notorious skirt-chaser and his former partner-in-crime. "What are you waiting for? Invite him in!"
Huang Peng was a short, chubby fellow with an oddly lovable face. Though cowardly and sleazy, he rarely got involved in any of Yang Haoxuan's darker exploits. That earned him a small measure of goodwill.
Of course, the real reason the old Yang Haoxuan kept him around was simple—money.
Still, something in him softened. After all, in his past life, Yang Haoxuan had been a lonely homebody too. Maybe… maybe it wouldn't hurt to tag along for whatever mischief Huang had planned.
In the hall, Huang Peng sipped tea while eyeing the maids with a greasy smile. He looked every bit the sleazy noble heir—but somehow, it was more comical than offensive.
When he spotted Yang Haoxuan, he stood and beamed.
"Congratulations, Young Master Yang! I heard your dantian's healed—fantastic news!"
It sounded like flattery, but somehow it felt… sincere.
Yang Haoxuan shrugged, playing it cool. "Healed or not, my cultivation's still stuck at the second layer."
"Pfft, that's temporary!" Huang waved it off, then leaned in conspiratorially. "By the way… the top courtesan at Fragrant Pavilion is performing tonight. Want to join me for a little… sightseeing?"
Yang Haoxuan coughed, suddenly unsure whether to laugh or blush. But curiosity got the better of him. "Well… I suppose a look wouldn't hurt."
The servant ran off to make arrangements. Huang Peng remained unbothered, snacking and chatting as if they were heading to the market instead of a pleasure house.
"Young Master Yang," he said with a grin, "most guys our age wouldn't last an hour in the Great Yan Mountains. But you? You made it through a whole night. Talk about legendary!"
Yeah… hanging in a tree doesn't count as "hardcore," but I'll take the praise.
As dusk fell, golden light bathed the city in warm hues.
When the time came, Huang Peng finally stood. "Let's not keep the ladies waiting!"
Yang Haoxuan followed, head slightly lowered from lingering modern embarrassment—but one look at Huang's smug swagger, and he quickly got over it.
Outside, a lavish carriage awaited, flanked by well-armed guards.
Bodyguards? Of course. No wonder the old Yang Haoxuan had dared to be such a menace.
As he approached, he caught the looks from the guards—disdain, contempt, even boredom.
Yup. The old me really was an asshole, he thought with a sigh. Not even my own guards respect me. If someone tried to assassinate me, they'd probably cheer.
With a helpless shrug, he climbed into the carriage beside Huang Peng, bound for the infamous Fragrant Pavilion.
What greeted them was not the sleazy dive he expected.
The building dominated half the street—an elegant circular structure painted in crimson and gold. There were no scantily clad women by the door, only two towering guards and a hundred-foot red carpet.
Inside, it was even more opulent—two floors of circular architecture, with a shimmering pool at the center and a polished stone platform rising like a stage.
Silken laughter echoed through the hall. Nobles in fine robes lounged with beauties on their arms, sipping wine worth more than most people earned in a year.
As they walked in, girls threw flirtatious glances at Huang Peng and Yang Haoxuan.
Clearly, they were regulars.
They climbed to a private box on the second floor, and just as Yang Haoxuan began to wonder how he should act, he noticed Huang Peng's eyes fixed on the stage below.
"It's about to begin," Huang whispered, his voice trembling with excitement.
Yang Haoxuan leaned forward.
Below, the dragon-head fountains flanking the pool began to spew clear streams of water, sparkling under the glow of lanterns.
A show was about to start.
And he had no idea how wild this night was about to become.