Volume One: Painting Mountains for Coin in Idle Hours

1. Transmigration

Cold.

So cold.

Shi Qian'gai was jolted awake by a bone-deep chill. As she opened her eyes, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through her head, and her vision swam with black spots.

She had been slumped over a wooden desk. Lifting her head, she saw a simple, rustic wooden lattice window. It was cracked open, and a wind like a steel blade howled against her face.

Shi Qian'gai slammed the window shut, shivering uncontrollably. Her legs were stiff and numb, trapping her at the desk. But as her mind slowly cleared, a stunned realization dawned.

Where am I?

She distinctly remembered walking down the street when a sudden attacker stabbed her. Before the ambulance could arrive, her consciousness had plunged into darkness... and now, she had woken up here.

Was I saved? Is this a dream I'm having in a hospital bed?

No, her senses were far too real.

Shi Qian'gai looked down. On the antique wooden desk before her lay an opened letter, a white jade brush, and a thread-bound book lying open.

Looking closer, she saw she was wearing a long, gray-blue robe covered in patch upon patch. Her hands were riddled with chilblains, and a fresh paper cut sliced across one finger.

These aren't my hands!

In a surge of bewildered shock, she finally shot up from the desk with a clatter, a dawning, unbelievable truth taking root in her mind. The next moment, an even more overwhelming sensation struck her—hunger.

Her body was numb, her head spun, and her vision swam with black spots. Her stomach cramped with agonizing pain. Shi Qian'gai had never felt hunger like this in her life; she felt as if she might die in the next second.

No, I don't want to die! Not again!

A jolt of adrenaline shot through her. Guided by fragmented memories that had inexplicably appeared in her mind, she stumbled toward the kitchen.

She fell once along the way but gritted her teeth and scrambled back up. In the kitchen, she found a wooden box—the memories told her this was where the food was.

Inside, a translucent stone the size of her thumb lay quietly, shimmering with an inner light.

Shi Qian'gai's mind raced. "...So this is a fantasy version of ancient times?"

The thought flashed through her mind as she popped the stone into her mouth.

Instantly, the solid object melted into a tasteless liquid, yet it swiftly eased her hunger.

Though she wasn't full, a warmth spread through her body. Her limbs went limp, and she collapsed onto the floor, utterly spent.

At least I managed to cheat death. Didn't kick the bucket the moment I transmigrated.

That's right, transmigration... As the thought solidified, memories not her own surged through her mind. She clutched her head, hissing in pain.

She felt herself about to faint again. A fierce will to survive drove her to pinpoint a few spells and names from the original body's memories. She clung desperately to the window frame, pushed it open, and released a paper crane from her sleeve.

"Find... find... Aunt Wu!"

With those words, her consciousness shattered, and she pitched forward, her head landing in the cold, empty stove.

"Shi San, what on earth is wrong with you? This is the first time I've ever seen someone nearly starve themselves to death."

"When I pushed the door open yesterday and saw your head stuck in the stove, I thought you were so hungry you'd started digging through the Spirit Grass Ash! I was so scared I rushed over and yelled, 'Good heavens, you can't eat that!'"

The woman had delicate features and a slender frame. Her eyebrows slanted downward slightly, giving her a melancholic look, but her voice was crisp and decisive.

After her outburst, she noticed Shi Qian'gai wasn't responding. She waved a hand in front of her face and frowned. "Still spacing out? You haven't said a single word. Did your soul wander off?"

"Huh?... Ah!"

Shi Qian'gai jolted back to reality. Staring at the woman's Song Dynasty-style attire, she still couldn't quite adjust.

It had already been half a day since she'd woken up again.

The memories she'd inherited were incomplete, but she now knew she had transmigrated into a cultivation world. The original owner of this body was a storyteller—a writer of serialized tales. The woman before her, Wu Lichun, was her editor, though here they were called "Script Agents."

At this moment, a pale blue, translucent window hovered in her field of vision, displaying two lines of text:

[Stamina: 1%]

[Spiritual Energy: 1%]

Noticing Shi Qian'gai's gaze return to it, another line of text slowly materialized below:

[Second Reminder: Your life index is critically low. Please write and publish an article as soon as possible. To prevent you from perishing before your mission has even begun, your Stamina and Spiritual Energy have been temporarily locked. During this period, their values will not decrease further. Duration: 9 days.]

[Friendly Reminder: If you fail to produce anything within 9 days, you will find it very difficult to remain among the living.]

Shi Qian'gai: "..."

Her head throbbed with a splitting pain.

From the original owner's memories, she already knew that the method of cultivation in this world was peculiar.

Here, only written words could channel the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. By writing articles and receiving emotional feedback from readers, one could cultivate their own power.

Simply put, the better a Cultivator's writing, the more readers they had, and the more those readers enjoyed the work, the higher their Cultivation Base would become. Consequently, not everyone possessed the talent for writing, yet everyone yearned to cultivate. This gave rise to the profession of the "Script Agent"—also known as an "Immortal Guide"—who managed the daily lives of Literary Cultivators, secured publishing channels, and in turn, refined spiritual energy with their assistance.

Shi Qian'gai had been an online novelist in her previous life, true, but to write a novel in ancient vernacular Chinese within nine days?

She knew that in her past life, many top authors had lost their god-tier status simply by switching to a new platform where their style didn't resonate. Now, she had switched worlds. Could the genres she'd excelled at before truly find an audience here?

Just the thought of it made her gut twist.

The last time she'd read a novel in ancient vernacular Chinese was Dream of the Red Chamber back in her second year of high school. It would be a miracle if she could even remember the names of the Twelve Beauties of Jinling now!

As for composing poetry, songs, or odes—that was even more impossible, unless she abandoned her principles as a creator and resorted to plagiarizing works from her previous life.

But even if she wanted to plagiarize, her options were severely limited. This world had only begun its spiritual energy revival and entered the age of cultivation at the end of the Song Dynasty. This meant that most of the famous lines she knew by heart already existed here.

The system-like window demanded she cultivate through writing to survive. She had no idea how it had gotten into her head, but she wasn't about to risk her life testing its authenticity.

...Shi Qian'gai felt like a pigeon with its throat clamped in the jaws of fate.

Wu Lichun had told her not to get out of bed until she'd completed one full spiritual energy cycle. Shi Qian'gai had no idea how long that was, but fearing she'd expose her unusual behavior, she could only lie stiffly in bed, consumed by anxiety.

The only silver lining was that she probably didn't have to worry about the "publish" requirement. The original owner was a contributing writer for the Spring Court Gazette; all she had to do was submit her work to Wu Lichun.

This world had developed a mature newspaper and periodical system over time. Having an editor as a contact already put her ahead of most Cultivators who had no means of getting published.

...Just as that thought crossed her mind, Shi Qian'gai heard Wu Lichun speak slowly. "My superiors gave me an order yesterday. I'm to streamline the Literary Cultivators under my supervision. Those who've failed to show any progress can no longer be affiliated with the sect."

Shi Qian'gai: Fuck.

Her brow twitched violently. She spoke for the first time since waking, her voice raspy. "Streamline?"

"You were unconscious for a full day and missed the deadline. You hadn't finished your manuscript beforehand, so your column had to be given to someone else... It's already past the printing time; panicking now won't help."

Wu Lichun's expression soured with disappointment. "You screwed up at the worst possible moment. Others are practically clawing at the chance to take your spot! To be honest, your name was on the first list of cuts Lin Xianke handed me."

Shi Qian'gai: ".................."

She shot up from the bed. "Wait! Give me another chance!"

Author's Note:

Grand opening! √

This is my unique world-building. Little Angels, let's explore and experience it together with Shi-zai~

Thanks to: Reader "Soft Moon" for irrigating with +76 Nutrient Solution. "Anonymous Hottie" for throwing a Hand Grenade.