Surprisingly Enough(NOT), Common Sense Is Overpowered in Cliché Cultivation World

1.21 Registration

[Panel]

[Name: Ji Ning

Spiritual Root: Mid-grade Spiritual Root

Attributes: Five Elemental Attributes

Talent: Extreme Space-Time Sensitivity

Realm: 3rd Stage of Qi Condensation (390/400)

Cultivation Method: Pure Qi Sutra (2nd floor: 24/400)

Martial Arts: Bone Forging Fist (Minor Accomplishment: 21/200), Shadow Steps (Minor Accomplishment: 26/100)

Spells: Small Cloud Rain Technique(Minor Accomplishment: 169/200), Soil Refining Technique(Small Accomplishment: 23/200), Scorching Purge(Minor Accomplishment:3/200), Golden Finger(Starting: 13/100)]

Ning glanced at the panel in disappointment, much like Ash Ketchum rushing toward a rustling bush expecting a wild Pokémon, only to find a girl instead.

Alas, he'd missed the finish line by a sliver.

Because of the Drunken Aphid disaster, he hadn't earned much during the harvest season. The missions he could take weren't particularly rewarding either. Being bound to the sect's farmlands meant he could only accept low-level assignments, mostly planting and cleaning work.

So even after borrowing an extra thirty spirit stones from Old Zhou, he still failed to reach the bottleneck of the third stage, let alone the fourth stage.

If he were honest, Ning was quite bummed out. Naturally so.

All that effort, only to get tripped up by luck.

"I guess being a spiritual farmer really does entail unexpected disasters," Ning thought. He understood it, but understanding didn't mean accepting it.

And since today was the last day to register one's cultivation for the newbie assessment, his time had run out. With a sigh, Ning brushed the dust off his robes and made his way toward the General Affairs Hall.

It was already evening, so while there was still a line for registration, it was much shorter now.

Glancing around, Ning noticed most of the new disciples were at the second stage of Qi Condensation, a few barely at the third. It seemed that those who'd reached the fourth stage had already registered.

It made sense; the fourth stage was all that was needed to obtain a Cleansing Pill. A day or two of extra cultivation wouldn't make much difference for them, so they probably won't wait till the last minute.

With another quiet sigh, Ning joined the end of the line. It was already dark by the time his turn came. The wait had been peaceful, unsurprising, since this was the sect's administrative hub. No one dared cause trouble here. The guards at the entrance weren't mere decorations.

Before long, a servant guided Ning inside to the elder's quarters.

"Ji Ning," the elder greeted, looking up from a pile of documents. "You were assigned to spiritual farming, yes? Your performance has been satisfactory." He nodded approvingly, then gestured for Ning to sit. "Moreover, it seems you have reached the third stage of Qi Condensation."

"Yes. It's all thanks to the teachings of the sect," Ning replied respectfully, bowing slightly.

The way to get along with senior management could be summed up in one word: loyalty.

In this case, loyalty to the sect. Gratitude to the sect.

As expected, the elder smiled faintly. "Since you managed to reach the third stage within a year, you are entitled to a reward. You may choose one technique from the Scripture Pavilion. Take this identification token, present it there, and you'll be granted access."

He flicked a small bronze token toward Ning, who caught it with both hands.

"Thank you, Elder."

"Also, as a young man, you should take better care of your health. Don't overexert yourself." The elder pointed at Ning's dark circles, his tone kind.

Sleeping barely three hours a night had clearly taken its toll; the evidence hung under his eyes. Heavy dark circles and traces of fatigue were quite visible.

Ning only bowed and retreated.

The elder's words held truth, but if he didn't push himself to the limit, he'd feel sorry for himself for slacking off. 

Just as he stepped out, someone rushed past him, nearly colliding before sidestepping with practiced reflexes.

"Sorry!" the person called out before disappearing inside.

Ning blinked. That voice, Xiao Fan.

Judging by his unsteady qi, he'd just broken through to the fourth stage. His energy was still turbulent, unrefined.

Ning couldn't help but sigh with a wry smile. "As expected of the protagonist. Showing up at the last second."

...

Back at his quarters, Ning sat for a moment before resuming his cultivation.

Now that his one-year mission exemption had ended, he needed to reach mid-stage Qi Condensation and earn his outer sect status. There was no time to waste.

His hands formed a seal, and his breathing steadied. Spiritual energy began to circulate through his meridians, weaving a soft hum through the silence.

With his eyes closed, his breath followed a unique rhythm, though heavier than usual. Ning didn’t pay it much mind, assuming it was due to a lack of spiritual incense.

He circulated his qi as per the Pure Qi Sutra. One circulation, two circulation. Slowly, refining his qi.

Yet as his consciousness sank deeper, his thoughts began to stir, like bubbles rising from a dark pond.

When will days like this end?
Was all that effort in vain?
Maybe I should just relax and stop being so hard on myself.

Each thought slithered into the next, soft at first, then louder, sharper, overlapping until they felt like voices whispering directly into his mind.

The gentle hum of qi warped into jagged, erratic pulses.

Ning’s breath caught. His vision blurred.

Transmigrator…
chosen one…
hah… chosen for what, exactly?
If Xiao Fan never existed… if he died…
You think you’re special?
You’re nothing… just another shadow…
Stop pretending…

Kill him…
Take the spotlight…
Or fail miserably…

Why even bother?
All of this… meaningless…

NO!

What are these suicidal thoughts?
He was obsessed.

Panel!

𝕀𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝?
𝔸𝕞 𝕀 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘?
𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕒 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕟 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕖𝕝𝕤𝕖'𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖.
𝕎𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕦𝕡. 𝕹𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝.

[Name: Ji Ning]
[Realm: Qi Condensation – 3rd Stage (390/400)]

That mechanical glow stabbed through the chaos. Ning seized onto it desperately.

Panel… focus on the panel!

The whispers tried to crawl into every corner of his mind:

𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘!
ℕ𝕠 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕤. ℕ𝕠 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕤.
𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕𝕟’𝕥 𝕖𝕩𝕚𝕤𝕥.
𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕞𝕚𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕚𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝.

His thoughts trembled, fought, but the words were like claws scraping the inside of his skull. 

Ning clung to the glowing words on the panel. His anchor. His lifeline.

Gradually, the cacophony slowed, shadows receding like a tide being pulled back.

He gasped as his vision snapped back into focus.

Puff!

A mouthful of bright red blood splattered onto the floor.

Inner demons.

A term he hadn’t truly grasped, yet it fit perfectly.

He had merely been cultivating when a surge of negative emotions erupted. Those thoughts had almost caused his spiritual energy in the dantian to boil over.

But wasn’t “inner demons” reserved for Jindan masters and above? How could a mere Qi Condensation cultivator suffer such a thing?

He closed his eyes, steadying his breath. Slowly, realization dawned.

Inner demons attacked those whose hearts were clouded, people drowning in obsession, doubt, or fear. Cultivation demanded calmness and clarity.

But compared to his peers, Ning’s heart had never been calm.

He was a transmigrator, a stranger in another’s skin, his soul stitched together with another’s memories. His very existence was a mystery.

Being dropped into another world, merging souls, inheriting foreign memories, it was far removed from the ordinary Joe.

Even while going about his everyday life, his thoughts occasionally spiraled back to his past life, abruptly left behind.

And being in a sect alongside Xiao Fan, a protagonist straight out of a third-rate xianxia novel, didn’t help. Ning couldn’t stop questioning his reality.

Normally, these thoughts were suppressed. But the recent workload and setbacks had unbalanced his mind, leading to a crack in his psyche.

“If I hadn’t woken up just now, I might’ve gone mad and died.”

Recalling the sensation of boiling energy surging through his meridians, he shuddered.

Unlike the “inner demons” gym bros faced after breakups, Ning’s were lethal, both physically and mentally.

“Fortunately, I managed to snap out of it… just barely.”

With the panel as an anchor, he calmed himself amidst the chaos. The fear lingered; the whispers had felt disturbingly real.

Alas! An inner demon attack at the Qi Condensation stage was a privilege reserved for protagonists, sentimental fools, desperate men… and now transmigrators.

He stood, washed his face, and stepped outside.

The night was deep and silent.

The cool breeze cleared his mind.

“It’s just a few bumps on the road to immortality,” he murmured. “Mysteries, so what? As long as I keep moving forward, everything will sort itself out.”

“Strive, strive, and never give up!”

A sudden gust hit him square in the face. Ning shivered violently. The cold in this world far surpassed his previous life.

“…Damn,” he muttered through chattering teeth, “how do protagonists make this look so cool?”

Shaking his head, he added under his breath, “Moon-staring scenes… dramatic breakthroughs… aura farming in sub-zero winds… yeah, I’ll leave all that to the protagonist.”

Alas! In a cliché xianxia world, overthinking apparently leads to dramatic character arcs.

With that, Ning turned and walked back inside, shaking his head, half-amused, half-exasperated, and entirely done with existential crises for the night.

...

Thanks for reading~