"My understanding of this world is limited—what does a noble young lady even know?"
Su Min found it strange as she looked down at the group of people below. Among them was someone she recognized—the Governor.
In modern terms, that would be a high-ranking official, equivalent to a provincial or at least a major city leader. And yet, there he was, speaking with unsettling deference to the old madam of Chunhong Brothel. A figure that, by common logic, should never hold this much sway.
Her expression darkened.
That madam had connections. Power. Enough that even the Governor bowed his head. This wasn't just a case of a rogue brothel wanting to reclaim a runaway girl. There was something deeper—something coordinated. Su Min sifted through the inherited memories of this body. Though she'd never lived through those early years herself, they clung to her soul like old bruises. The past Su Min had seen too much and understood too little—until now.
The original Su Min, that girl who'd been born into a noble family, knew little about life beyond mansion walls. Her days had been filled with poetry, embroidery, tea lessons, propriety, music, etiquette, and obedience. How to smile without speaking and how to speak without saying anything at all. That was the limit of her formal education. She hadn't learned anything about power struggles, geography, or military logistics.
Her grip tightened. "Even with all her memories, I still know nothing about how this world truly works."
Her gaze lifted, drifting to the mountains behind her—vast, feral, and swallowing the horizon whole. If she couldn't fight them, she could hide. The wilderness didn't ask for her name or her past. And right now, that was the best offer she could get.
After the clan's fall, even those comforts had become poison—memories that only made survival harder. Despite it all, Su Min had endured. And now, so would she. With no family left, no allies, and she was treated like a plague by anyone she approached, Su Min had no other path. Hiding was the only viable option until her strength caught up with her anger.
The way that madam spoke to the Governor... this wasn't simple pursuit. It reeked of conspiracy.
"I'd love to chop off that emperor's damn head," she muttered under her breath, bitterness curling behind her teeth. "But that's a fantasy for now."
She crouched lower in the underbrush, clutching her arms to still their trembling. Every breath scraped against her ribs like sandpaper. Her body wasn't just sore—it was wrecked. She'd only started cultivating Changchun Gong a few hours ago. Its healing properties were real, yes—but miracles didn't happen overnight. Not real strength. Not yet.
Certainly not enough to face trained soldiers. Or even another night of pursuit.
At best, it had stopped her from collapsing. At worst, it was holding her together like glue over shattered porcelain. Her meridians had barely lit, her qi thread-thin and flickering. Right now, she wasn't even back to what most would call healthy.
Her eyes flicked toward the mist-laced ridges beyond the cliff path. Dark trees. Cold stone. A landscape thick with danger. But it was better than what waited behind her.
Better than being dragged back in chains.
"If I can't fight them… I'll disappear instead."
The moment the cliff's edge was behind her, Su Min's body betrayed her. Every step into the treeline sent jagged fire up her legs—not the clean ache of exertion, but the deep, marrow-deep throb of half-healed wounds protesting. Her lungs burned with each breath, the crisp mountain air scraping like knives against tissue still raw from interrogation chamber smoke. Changchun Gong hummed weakly in her meridians, its healing energy barely enough to knit flesh, let alone erase weeks of systematic breaking.
Her body remembered the price. The lash marks across her back pulled taut with every movement; the old fracture in her left wrist (courtesy of Magistrate Wu's "persuasion techniques") throbbed in time with her heartbeat.
"Move. Keep moving."
Her foot caught on a root. She fell hard, biting her tongue to stifle a cry as her knees slammed into loam. For a terrifying second, her vision whited out—not from pain, but from the sudden, visceral memory of stone floors and bootsteps. The scent of pine needles became blood-soaked straw. The wind through the branches turned to whispered taunts: Traitor's spawn. Whore-in-training.
Su Min dug her nails into the earth. "Not there. Not anymore."
Still, she pressed on.
For anyone else, these mountains would be a death sentence. Wild beasts, poisonous plants, unpredictable terrain. But for her—armed with cultivation, even the faintest flicker—it was survivable. She knew how to endure.
Eventually, she found a narrow ravine carved by a thin stream. Hidden beneath a curtain of tangled ivy, it was barely large enough to lie down in, but it would do for now. She slumped beside the water, exhaling heavily. Opening her storage ring, Su Min checked her meager resources. Bigu dan—enough to sustain her for about two months. As for after that...
She unrolled the Alchemy & Artifact Manual, scanning its contents. It recorded the methods for refining first-grade spiritual treasures and pills, along with an illustrated guide to medicinal herbs.
"There are hundreds of bigu dan recipes—all with the same effect. And this mountain is rich in spirit herbs. If I can refine them, I could stay here indefinitely."
Flipping through the scroll and the herb guide, Su Min quickly found the ingredients she needed. Spirit herbs were plants that absorbed spiritual energy—imperceptible to ordinary people, but easy for someone who had even barely stepped into cultivation.
If she could start refining pills, she could remain hidden in these mountains for a long time—and the more remote the location, the purer the spiritual energy would be, and it would be more convenient to practice here.
The Changchun Gong was supposed to heal.
And maybe it would—eventually. But right now? Right now, Su Min's body was barely holding together.
At the Early Body Refining stage allowed one's physique to surpass that of an ordinary mortal. But that was theory. That was for someone who hadn't been chained in darkness and fed just enough to keep breathing.
Her real condition was far from ideal.
Her limbs were stiff from weeks of captivity. Her muscles had wasted. She moved on sheer willpower, not strength. Her steps were uneven, though she tried to keep them steady. Her skin still bore the marks of too many hands. Her breath came sharp and shallow, as if her lungs still remembered the smoke from burning incense and the suffocating perfume of the brothel.
If she hadn't been granted this new life, this second chance, she doubted the original Su Min would've even lived long enough to escape. Even so, Su Min could sense the potential awakening within her—like coals waiting to catch fire.
"Once I reach the middle or late stages of Body Refining, maybe I really could carve a bloody path through an army," she thought, a quiet fire behind her tired eyes.
That time hadn't come yet. But it would.
Now, she moved carefully, conserving every shred of stamina. Her path wound deeper into the mountains—not out of boldness, but necessity. The deeper she went, the fewer the patrols. She didn't have strength to fight. Not yet.
All she could rely on now was her caution, her will—and time to heal.
She had to lay low for now, and let fate do what it would. A few days ago, she would've laughed at the idea of being a fugitive in cultivation world. Now, she was living it.
"If I'd known it would be this tough," she muttered under her breath, "I'd have picked a better damn build from the start."
Still, something about her body felt… different. In a good way.
Innate Divine Ability, and Talent.
Not something learned. Not something stolen. And not something from this world.
She had chosen them herself—back when this was just a game on a screen, when she was still a programmer, still twenty-two, still alive in a world that made sense.
Immortality—a talent that granted having infinite lifespan and eternal youth, halting aging at the peak of one's physical prime.
Heavenly Dao Insight—an Innate Divine Ability that allowed one to comprehend the laws of the universe over time, no matter how slow the progress.
A slow build. Weak in the beginning, terrifying in the end.
And now, in this unfamiliar world, in a body that was unmistakably her own—just younger, thinner, not yet hardened by adulthood—that talent and innate divine ability were still with her.
They were hers. Truly and absolutely.
Even in this fragile body, even while stumbling through the lowest stage of cultivation. The fact that she was able to step into early stage of body refining overnight showed that she definitely had great potential.
When Su Min went deep into the mountains, the general who had left the periphery also rushed over with a large army. Looking at the mighty troops entering the mountains, he was extremely dissatisfied.
"It's just a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old girl. She hasn't done anything heinous. If the brothel couldn't keep her locked up, that's their problem."
He'd seen Niu Ma's wounds—smooth as polished jade. It made him wonder if the girl had been rescued by an old ally of her father's. The madam was just making trouble for nothing. By now, the girl could be anywhere. This was a waste of time.
"REPORT!"
A shout rang out from the distance as two constables came rushing back.
"We found this in a ruined temple up the mountain—looks like a scrap of clothing."
Before the Governor could even react, the madam snatched the cloth fragment and snarled:
"It's hers, no doubt about it. That little brat planned this all along—she even stashed a change of clothes in the mountains. She's still in there. No one dares shelter her now."
"Just a little girl! Why all this fuss? Your lord can't pick another?"
It wasn't just the general—the Governor, too, was growing tired of the whole mess.
The mountains were vast; if the girl died out there, all of this effort would have been for nothing. From his point of view, she wasn't worth mobilizing an entire army. But the madam snapped coldly:
"That's no ordinary girl. The Master said her innate spiritual potential is once in a hundred years. With her, she could fully restore her strength—and satisfy His Majesty's demands."
"..."
Faced with her unrelenting pressure, the Governor kept silent. He owed his position here to the need to assist in the master's recovery. Who would have thought that things would spiral out of control like this?
"This Minshan range... even during times of war, it remains untouched. Sending a few thousand soldiers in is useless. We'll need more troops. I've already sent word to nearby regions. If anyone finds her, they are to capture her immediately."
He glanced over at the nearby bushes where bloodstains remained—the bodies had long been cleared away. He hadn't forgotten the smooth, unnatural wounds.
"Will these soldiers even be able to stop her?" he muttered.
"I told you before—she has exceptional natural talent. She's a good material. If my master didn't need to continue replenishing her blood and essence, she would have taken her in as a disciple. Under life-threatening pressure, awakening some hidden power is normal. But without proper training, she could only unleash one instinctive attack. Otherwise, do you think those thugs would've survived?"
As she spoke, the madam also looked at the hooligans standing there obediently. These bastards, if they were not so scared that they dared not to take action, they could have rushed over and captured the person. It's all because of these cowardly losers that things are in such trouble now.
"Hmph." The Governor frowned, staring grimly at the endless stretch of mountains.
"If we can't find her... then when autumn comes, we'll set the mountains ablaze. Burn them. Burn her out."
"...."
The Governor had no response to that grim suggestion. He simply stood in silence.