Early summer settled gently over the Xuanmiao Sword Sect, wrapping the endless mountain ranges in a quiet, almost dreamlike stillness.
With layer upon layer of peaks rose into the distance, their pine-covered slopes washed in deep blue-green hues. A cool breeze drifted lazily through the air, brushing against the skin with a soft, lingering touch, while threads of morning mist curled and coiled between the mountains, neither fully dispersing nor settling. This entire scene felt distant from the mortal world light, tranquil, and untouched like a realm where immortals might pause in their wandering.
High above the ground, half-hidden among the branches of an ancient tree, Yun Nian sat with one leg loosely draped over the side, her posture relaxed yet her thoughts anything but. Her gaze drifted downward time to time, lingering on the dizzying height beneath her feet, and for a long moment, she said nothing. Then, as if speaking to herself, she asked in a calm, almost detached tone, “If I jump from here… would it count as a truly fatal mistake?” Not far away, tucked into the corner of her consciousness, the system shrank into itself, trembling as though it wished it could disappear entirely. Yun Nian did not look at it. Her expression remained flat, her voice steady as she continued, “So what you’re telling me is… the male lead arrived at the Xuanmiao Sword Sect a year ago?”
There was a long pause before the system responded. 【…Yes.】 This single word hung in the air like a guilty confession. Yun Nian let out a short, humorless laugh, the sound edged with disbelief and faint irritation. Five years. She had been in this world for a full five years. After graduating from the Alliance, she had been assigned to the Transmigration Bureau. This mission was her first after officially becoming a full employee and was meant to be straightforward. A routine task. As she had transmigrated into a male-oriented xianxia novel titled Shattered Thorns [a common trope in cultivation stories where a character’s life-bound sword reflects their fate and Dao (path of cultivation)].
The title itself came from the male lead’s natal sword Shattered Thorns. In the original story, Xie Qingli was everything a protagonist should be.
Beautiful, powerful, and quietly tragic.
Gentle in temperament yet unwavering in strength, his Dao heart [the core belief and determination that guides a cultivator’s path] was resolute and unshakable. Step by step, he was destined to rise above all others, to stand at the peak of the cultivation world, to become the unrivaled sword master and, in the end, to save the world itself.
And yet… that was not how the story ended. Despite his brilliance, and the suffering he endured and overcame, the final chapters twisted into something no one had anticipated. Without warning, Xie Qingli succumbed to darkness. His inner demons overtook him during his tribulation [a heavenly trial cultivators must pass to advance], and instead of ascending, he fell completely and irreversibly. Resulting in the world he was meant to save was destroyed by his own hand.
The backlash for it had been immediate. As readers flooded the comment sections of Shattered Thorns with anger and disbelief. Negative reviews piled up endlessly, their outrage echoing across platforms. And with the collapse of the story’s internal world, the Transmigration Bureau could no longer remain indifferent. That was where Yun Nian came in. Her mission was simple in theory: prevent Xie Qingli from turning evil and ensure he reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship as intended. Not difficult.
At least, it shouldn’t have been. Unfortunately, she had been paired with a teammate that could only be described as disastrous. As never in her wildest expectations had she imagined that, on her very first solo mission, the system would make such a catastrophic error. The timing by it had gone completely wrong. She had transmigrated far too early. In Shattered Thorns, the story begins when Xie Qingli has already entered the sect and become an inner disciple of Snow-Treading Peak [a high-ranking cultivation peak within sect, usually reserved for elite disciples]. But when Yun Nian arrived in this world, Xie Qingli had not even stepped into any sect, let alone become a disciple.
He simply… didn’t exist within reach. No matter how hard they searched, there was no trace of him. As for Yun Nian herself she was nothing more than a nameless extra in the original story. When she first arrived, she had only just begun the disciple selection trials and hadn’t even secured a place within a sect. Left with no better option, and driven by the need for proximity, she had used the system’s assistance to enter Snow-Treading Peak ahead of time, positioning herself so that when Xie Qingli eventually appeared, she could naturally become his senior sister.
And so, she waited. One year passed. Then another. Spring turned to summer, summer to autumn, autumn to winter, and the cycle repeated itself again and again. Five years slipped by in quiet anticipation. But finally just this morning the system detected Xie Qingli’s presence.
The details, however, was almost laughable. A year ago, Xie Qingli had been gravely injured and collapsed at the foot of Xuanmiao Mountain. He had been rescued by passing disciples and brought back to the sect. After recovering, he remained there… not as a prodigy, not as a favored disciple, but merely as an outer sect disciple.
For an entire year, he had kept his head down, blending into obscurity. And during that same year, the system had done absolutely nothing.
No detection. No alerts. Not even the slightest awareness of his existence. It was only recently, when the Ancient Tomb Sword Ruins [a dangerous secret realm filled with ancient swords and opportunities, often used as a trial ground for disciples] were about to open, that Xie Qingli registered his name. And this morning, as the roster was compiled, the system finally noticed it.
Only then did everything come to light and did Yun Nian realize—While she had been living a leisurely, almost idyllic life atop the mountains picking fruit beneath the sun, fishing in clear streams, passing her days in ease ,the person she was meant to guide had been enduring hardship and quiet humiliation in the outer sect.
The system, faced with the weight of its failure, immediately collapsed into despair. 【I was wrong!】 Yun Nian did not even spare it a glance.
“You,” she said flatly, her voice devoid of emotion, “my dear partner… because of your incompetence, we’ve missed him for an entire year.”
Each word landed with quiet precision. The system shrank further into itself, as though struck. Any trace of pride it once held crumbled instantly under her calm accusation. After all, locating the male lead had always been its responsibility.
And the truth was undeniable ,it had grown complacent over the years, neglecting its duty, leaving Yun Nian to wait blindly. It had no argument to offer. So in a small, almost pitiful voice, it attempted to make amends. 【How about… we go find him now? He’s at the twelfth gate. Logically speaking, at this hour… he should be cleaning the mountain peak…】 Cleaning.
For a moment, those words echoed strangely in Yun Nian’s mind. The future Sword Master—the one destined to shake the Four Seas and Eight Wastelands [a phrase referring to the entire world] with a single strike—was currently… sweeping a mountain.
Yun Nian slowly closed her eyes. For a brief second, she seriously considered dragging the System out and beating it senseless.
Trying to remain rational, she stayed seated on the branch. The tension in her shoulders eased only slightly as she lifted her gaze once more toward the distant peaks. Mist still lingered there, soft and shifting, stretching endlessly beyond sight. The Xuanmiao Sword Sect stood vast and structured, divided clearly between inner and outer domains. Within the inner sect, three great peaks rose in prominence named Snow-Treading Peak, Branch-Breaking Peak, and Rain-Watching Peak each housing elite disciples and powerful cultivators. Beyond them lay the outer sect, sprawling and expansive, divided into twelve gates. To step into the inner sect, one had to pass through these twelve gates one by one, enduring trials and examinations at each stage, climbing slowly, relentlessly, toward the heights above.
Xie Qingli was assigned to the Twelfth Gate , that is so far removed, it was almost like being cast to the very edge of the sect, a quiet exile hidden among mountains no one cared to notice. And in future if he even wished to step into the inner sect, he would have to pass trial after trial, climbing one gate at a time.
For most disciples, that journey alone would take decades. And even here, in this forgotten corner, his days were far from peaceful. The disciples of the Twelfth Gate treated him poorly. They ordered him about without restraint, pushing the dirtiest and most tedious tasks onto him, yet Xie Qingli, with his naturally gentle temperament, never once raised his voice in protest. Even when they crossed the line, he simply endured it in silence.
Up on the tree, thinking all of this Yun Nian exhaled slowly, then pushed herself to her feet. And with a light motion, she leapt down, landing steadily on the ground below. The basket of freshly picked fruit in her hands disappeared in an instant, stored neatly within her Qiankun bag [a spatial storage artifact used by cultivators to carry items beyond normal capacity]. Without furthur hesitation, she turned and began walking down the winding mountain path. Inside her mind, the system also perked up, rubbing its hands together in barely concealed excitement.
【Are you going to find him now?】Yun Nian curved her lips into a faint smile, though there was little sincerity in it.
“Little one,” she replied lazily, “you’re far too impatient.” Yet even as she spoke, her steps did not slow. On the contrary, she continued down the slope, her direction unmistakably set toward the Twelfth Gate. The system, wisely choosing not to call her out, instead offered a cautious reminder. 【But your master, Fu Tan Zhenren [a high-ranking cultivator; Zhenren is an honorific title meaning “True Person,” often given to powerful Daoist practitioners], is about to return. If he finds you absent from Snow-Treading Peak, he’ll definitely be displeased.】
At the mention of this, Yun Nian’s brows twitched faintly, irritation surfacing in it without restraint.
“Oh, you’re absolutely right, my dear partner,” she said coolly. “If only you had told me an hour earlier that the male lead was already here.”
The system faltered. After a brief, awkward silence, it cautiously suggested: 【…Why don’t you use your sword? It’ll be faster.】
Yun Nian paused mid-step. She turned her head slightly, glancing back at the distant outline of Snow-Treading Peak, its silhouette hazy beneath drifting mist. Then she lifted her gaze forward, toward the layered mountains stretching endlessly ahead.…It did have a point. So without further hesitation, she made her decision. As a wooden sword slipped into her grasp, and with a practiced motion, she stepped onto it. The blade rose gently beneath her feet, lifting her into the air as she guided it forward.
She knew if she moved quickly, she could make the trip to the Twelfth Gate, assess Xie Qingli’s situation, and return before Fu Tan Zhenren noticed her absence. For now, that was enough. After all, before making any plans, she needed to see him with her own eyes and if possible, find a way to bring him into the inner sect sooner. Snow-Treading Peak stood far from the outer sect, but by sword, the distance shrank to a mere quarter of an hour. The wind brushed past her robes as she descended, the wooden sword carrying her smoothly down toward the lower gates.
Inside her mind, the system continued to chatter. 【Xie Qingli should be nearby. At this time of day, he’s usually at the mountaintop.】
Soon, Yun Nian landed lightly and dismissed her sword. Lifting the hem of her dress slightly, she began walking along the narrow path ahead.
Strangely, the calm she had maintained for five years began to ripple at this time. As a faint, unfamiliar excitement stirred within her chest.
She was finally about to meet him. The male lead she had waited for ,searched for five long years. And more than that… This was her first mission alone. The system, sensing her mood also , eagerly cheered her on. 【Host, keep it up! Just show him a little warmth, and we’ll earn 500,000 points!】 At that, Yun Nian’s eyes brightened instantly.
Her pace quickened. Compared to Snow-Treading Peak, the Twelfth Gate sat at a much lower elevation. The air here was warmer, less biting, though the forest seemed denser. With towering trees stretched skyward, their twisted branches reaching out like clawed hands, casting shifting shadows across the ground. She walked for quite some time. All the while, the system flipped frantically through the original text, recounting whatever fragments of information it could find. 【There’s a part in the original story that mentions Xie Qingli’s natal sword, Broken Thorns, was obtained in the Ancient Tomb Sword Ruins [a secret realm filled with ancient weapons and remnants of past cultivators, often serving as a trial ground]. After he emerged, several peak elders tried to seize it from him. Among them, your master Fu Tan Zhenren was the most eager.】
Yun Nian nodded thoughtfully. “Anything else?” 【No… I just mean—since he’s going to the Ancient Tomb Sword Ruins, you should also—Host, wait!】 Her steps halted instantly. The system’s voice sharpened with urgency. 【There’s someone ahead. Something’s not right—you should hide!】 Yun Nian reacted without hesitation. She slipped silently to the side, pressing herself behind a cluster of thick tree trunks. The dense foliage provided perfect cover for her , concealing her presence almost entirely.
Than carefully, she leaned forward, peering through the gaps. At a bend in the path ahead, a group of figures had gathered. They were all dressed in white robes, the collars and cuffs of it embroidered with slender green bamboo the distinctive attire of the outer sect disciples.
And at the center of the group stood a young man. Even with his head lowered, his figure was striking tall and straight, towering above the others. His long hair was tied high into a ponytail, and though Yun Nian stood too far away to see his features clearly, the outline of his face alone hinted at a refined, handsome appearance.
Than some voices drifted toward her from the group. “What are you staring at?” one of them sneered. “Is sweeping the ground really that hard?”
A foot lashed out, kicking apart the neat pile of fallen leaves at the boy’s feet. The leaves scattered with a dry rustle, brushing against the hem of his spotless white robes before falling once more to the ground. Yun Nian’s gaze darkened slightly. She recognized that voice. It belong to Chang Xuan. The eldest disciple of the Twelfth Gate. He had once visited Snow-Treading Peak to deliver a letter. His background was said to be tied to the imperial family, and his behavior was arrogant, domineering which had left a clear impression on her .
At the same time laughter broke out among the group. “What are you standing there for?” another person chimed in mockingly. “Sweep it again! If the senior brother in charge comes and sees this mess, you’ll be punished!” The sound of their amusement echoed sharply through the quiet forest. Yun Nian’s brows slowly knit together. …Bullying a fellow disciple. According to the rules of the Xuanmiao Sword Sect, such behavior was strictly forbidden. Any disciple found instigating harassment or oppression would be subjected to one hundred lashes and expelled from the sect forever barred from entering the Three Sects, Six Schools, and Fourteen Palaces [a collective term referring to the major orthodox cultivation factions].
And yet these people acted without the slightest restraint here. As though they were dancing carelessly atop a blade, unaware or perhaps unconcerned that they stood directly within the bounds of a forbidden line. The white-robed youth showed no reaction at all. As though the harsh words had never reached him, he simply bent down once more, picked up the broom he had set aside, and began sweeping the scattered leaves again slowly, steadily, as if nothing had happened. Dry leaves whispered against the ground under the brush of straw.
Behind him, the mockery only grew louder. “Did you hear that?” someone scoffed. “Who do you think you are? Just because you passed the trial at the Ancient Tomb Sword Ruins, you think you’re qualified to enter the inner sect?” Another voice followed, thick with disdain. “What can our junior brother even do? He’s been in the outer sect for a whole year, and all he knows is how to sweep!” “That’s not necessarily true,” someone laughed. “Maybe the three peaks are short of sweepers!” Laughter rippled through the group, sharp and unrestrained. Yet the youth standing at the center of it all remained utterly still. He continued sweeping, his expression calm and distant, as if the ridicule wasn’t directed at him at all as if it belonged to another world entirely.
That quiet indifference, however, did not soothe Chang Xuan. On the contrary, it struck him like silent defiance. Or worse like disdain. Chang Xuan’s expression darkened immediately, his eyes turning cold. “What kind of face are you making?” he snapped, stepping forward. “Hey—!”
He lifted his leg, intending to kick him. But just as his foot lashed out, the youth shifted slightly, turning to sweep the leaves to his left. The movement was natural, unhurried as Chang Xuan’s kick met nothing but air. He lost his balance instantly and crashed forward, falling hard onto the ground.
“Brother Chang!” The others rushed forward in alarm, scrambling to help him up.
Hidden among the trees, Yun Nian couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at her lips. Chang Xuan, however, was already seething with humiliation. He shoved aside the hands trying to help him and staggered to his feet, his face twisted with anger. “Xie Qingli,” he spat, “you did that on purpose, didn’t you?!” The boy said nothing. He didn’t argue. Didn’t explain. He simply stood there silent allowing Chang Xuan to storm forward and slam him back against the trunk of a tree. The impact echoed dully. And then fists came down. One after another.
【Host! It’s the male lead! Go save him!】Yun Nian’s smile froze instantly. Her gaze snapped toward the scene, disbelief flashing across her eyes. …Xie Qingli? The one being beaten was Xie Qingli? A tall young man in white robes, his black hair tied high, standing quietly as he endured the blows this was him? Inside her mind, the system let out a shrill repeated scream.【Host! It’s the male lead! Go save him!】
He was not just a male lead he was her points! The thought barely formed before her body had already moved. Her hand drew her sword in one swift motion as she rushed forward, faster than her thoughts could catch up. Ahead, Xie Qingli lifted his arm slightly, shielding his vital points. His long dark hair fell forward, obscuring the cold, flickering killing intent hidden deep within his eyes. By his calculations… it should have been about time. So he raised his head. As Chang Xuan’s fist cut through the air, aimed directly at his eye, the force behind it sharp and unrestrained.
Xie Qingli did not dodge. He simply watched, his gaze cold and unmoving, as the blow descended. And then— Everything changed.
As a flash of green cut through the space between them. Before anyone could react, Chang Xuan was kicked away, his body sent flying backward before slamming heavily into a distant tree trunk. The impact shook loose a scatter of leaves. At the same time, a blade swept through the air.
Sending the remaining three disciples crashing to the ground. The entire scene shifted in an instant. Even Xie Qingli had not reacted in time.
“You dare hit him?!” Yun Nian’s voice rang out, sharp with anger. He was the male lead! Her mission target worth five hundred thousand points!
Chang Xuan and the others lay sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain, but Yun Nian spared them not even a glance.
She turned immediately, her attention falling entirely on the young man before her. “Are you alright?” Without waiting for an answer, she reached out and turned him slightly, her gaze sweeping over him carefully. But when she noticed the bruising along his arm, her brows knitted together at once. “I’ll heal you—” Before she could finish, the young man gently withdrew his hand from her grasp. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
His voice was clear and cool, like ice fracturing against jade soft, yet carrying a quiet resonance. Yun Nian stilled. As for the first time, she truly looked at him. He was tall, taller than most and his presence seemed to gather the light around him. His black hair was tied into a high ponytail, his features refined and striking. With a straight nose bridge, delicate brows, and slightly upturned eyes that gave him a faint, natural sharpness.
And yet, there was something else. Something impossibly calm in him . As his gaze rested on her, serene and still, like the moment after a snowstorm had settled everything quiet, everything frozen. He was pure. Handsome. Youthful. As sunlight filtered through the trees behind him, falling across his figure, turning the edge of his ear faintly translucent. There, just at the lobe of it , a small mole stood out subtly against his pale skin. They stood far too close.
As his presence, cool and distant, seemed to wrap around her like an invisible net, faintly restraining. There was also a scent about him fresh, crisp like bamboo after rain. He was her mission target. The future number one swordsman. Xie Qingli.
Yun Nian’s thoughts stirred, and she asked inwardly, “What’s my mission again?” The system responded instantly, eager to redeem itself.
【The host’s mission is to save—】 “Save the beautiful, strong, tragic, and pitiful one, right?” Yun Nian interrupted smoothly. “I can do that.”
System: […]
A smile now curved her lips, her eyes softening as she looked at him. “Let me treat your wounds first,” she said, gesturing lightly toward his arm, still mindful of her task. Xie Qingli did not answer. His gaze, instead, shifted past her focused on something behind her. Yun Nian paused, a flicker of confusion crossing her expression. She followed his line of sight, turning her head and at that very moment, a rough, thunderous roar tore through the air. The previously gentle breeze turned sharp in an instant, whipping strands of her hair across her face. From the southeastern hillside, a massive figure came rushing forward.
It is a spirit beast. Its body was enormous, its movements swift and powerful with a mane of crimson fur flowed behind it like fire, dazzling and fierce, while its eyes once said to be gentle now burned with a violent, blood-red glow. The Crimson Feather Beast [a mountain-guarding spirit beast, typically docile and protective of the sect]. It roared again, the sound harsh and frenzied, echoing through the forest like a storm breaking loose. But the Crimson Feather Beast was known for its calm nature. So why… did it sound as though it had lost all reason?
【Its condition is wrong! You must deal with it quickly!】 The system’s voice rang out sharply in her mind. Yun Nian’s heart skipped.
What kind of luck was this? She hadn’t stepped foot in the outer sect for five years and the very first time she came down, she ran straight into a spirit beast gone berserk. Still her instincts moved faster than reason. As without thinking, she reached for Xie Qingli, intending to pull him away.
But the system stopped her at once. 【Don’t run! The male lead has only just formed his Golden Core [a major cultivation stage where spiritual energy condenses into a core]; with him, you absolutely can’t outrun the Crimson Feather Beast! No matter what caused it to lose control, such a disturbance will definitely alert the elders. You just need to hold it off for a while until they arrive!】
Yun Nian clenched her teeth. Her gaze flicked briefly toward Chang Xuan and the others, who still sat frozen on the ground in shock, before she turned decisively. She pushed Xie Qingli behind a nearby tree, her voice quick and firm. “You stay here. I’ll deal with it.” Before he could respond, she had already spun her sword in her hand and rushed forward.
Against the towering form of the Crimson Feather Beast, her figure seemed almost fragile ,small, fleeting, like a single leaf caught in a storm.
Behind her, Chang Xuan and the others finally snapped out of their daze. As panic surged through them , they scrambled to their feet, turning to flee. But the moment they took a step their bodies locked in place. Their feet refused to move, as if frozen into the earth itself. Fear spread instantly. How… how was this possible? Someone… had immobilized them. Xie Qingli lowered his gaze briefly, then lifted it again, watching Yun Nian as she clashed with the Crimson Feather Beast. A faint, almost imperceptible chuckle slipped from his lips.
This female cultivator… was unnecessarily meddlesome. The mountain-guarding spirit beast was not something she could defeat. Charging forward like this would only lead to one outcome. Death. He watched this scene in silence for a while. Listened to Chang Xuan’s panicked cries.
Watched Yun Nian struggle beneath the beast’s relentless assault. And gradually, his interest faded. After all, the injuries he had already sustained at Chang Xuan’s hands were more than sufficient. When questioned later, they would serve as perfect proof, neatly clearing him of suspicion.
There was no reason for him to remain here any longer. So Xie Qingli turned to leave. But he had only taken a single step when suddenly, a figure tore through the air above, moving so swiftly it left behind overlapping afterimages. And the aura that descended from it was vast and overwhelming. It was of Mahayana stage [a peak realm in cultivation, just below ascension, possessing immense and near-unfathomable power].
There were only three cultivators at this level within the entire Xuanmiao Sword Sect.
Thinking about this Xie Qingli’s step paused. Quietly, he withdrew. At the same time, with a subtle shift of his fingers, the invisible force restraining Chang Xuan and the others dissipated. His thoughts moved swiftly, calculating. But before he could act Chang Xuan, who had collapsed nearby, suddenly lifted his head. With tears streaked his face, yet his expression twisted into something vicious. And without warning, he reached into his Qiankun bag [a spatial storage artifact] and pulled out a talisman and a sharp flick of his wrist, hurled it straight toward Xie Qingli.
Xie Qingli’s brow lifted slightly.…Perfect. The talisman shot forward, cutting through the air. And yet he did not move. He did not dodge. He simply watched, calm and unflinching, as it struck his chest. The force behind it slammed into him instantly, sending his body flying backward straight toward the Crimson Feather Beast. At that exact moment Yun Nian raised her sword, preparing to block the beast’s descending claws.
As wind roared in her ears. Spiritual pressure surged wildly around her. And then a faint scent drifted past. Cool. Crisp. Like bamboo after rain.
And a figure stepped into her space. Before she could react sharp claws tore through flesh. And a muffled groan escaped. The sound was low, restrained yet it cut through the chaos with chilling clarity. Blood burst into the air, thick and metallic, the scent overwhelming her senses in an instant. Yun Nian froze.
Her pupils contracted sharply as she watched the tall figure collapsing toward her. Her body moved on instinct. She reached out, catching him as he fell, but the weight and force drove her backward several steps, her footing unsteady as she struggled to hold him upright. Above them a massive net descended from the void, glowing faintly as it spread wide, trapping the Crimson Feather Beast just as it lunged forward again.
The beast roared violently, thrashing within the confines of the net. And then a figure descended from the sky. With a single, effortless wave of his hand, overwhelming spiritual power surged forth, pressing down like a mountain. The frenzied Crimson Feather Beast let out a strangled roar before being forced to its knees, its massive body trembling as the spirit net tightened around it.
Silence followed. Heavy. Absolute. The man who stood before them wore the robes of an elder of the Xuanmiao Sword Sect. His black hair was tied high, his posture straight and imposing, his expression stern and unreadable.He was Fu Tan Zhenren [“True Person Fu Tan,” a high-ranking cultivator and peak master]. The master of Snow-Treading Peak. Yun Nian’s master. And yet she did not look at him. Her entire world had narrowed to the person in her arms. Xie Qingli. He was taller than her much taller.
Now, his body leaned heavily against her, his head resting weakly near her neck, his breathing faint. Yun Nian had to straighten her back just to support his weight. Her hand, pressed against his back, trembled slightly. When she lifted it , it was stained red. Her pale, jade-like fingers were slick with blood. Thick drops of his blood slid slowly down her palm, trailing along her wrist, soaking into the edge of her sleeve.
Inside her mind, the system’s voice exploded. 【Host—!! The male lead is injured!!】
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