Ethan was practically vibrating with excitement as he trudged back from the Ancestral Tomb, having just completed his daily cleaning duties.
The usual bone-deep exhaustion from scrubbing ancient stone and battling against the persistent yin energy was overshadowed today by the anticipation of finally trying his hand at fishing.
His muscles ached from hours of work, his hands were raw from handling the coarse cleaning tools, but none of that mattered.
For once, he had something to look forward to rather than just enduring another mind-numbing day of monotonous survival.
The tomb work had been particularly grueling today.
The yin energy seemed more aggressive than usual, actively resisting his efforts to clean the intricate carvings that adorned the entrance.
Ice had formed faster than normal on the surfaces he’d just finished scrubbing, forcing him to repeat sections multiple times. By the time he’d finished, his fingers were nearly numb despite the physical cultivation that should have made him more resilient to the cold.
He reached his humble dwelling—calling it a "home" was generous, but it was the only shelter he had in this frozen wasteland.
The small hut looked even more pathetic in the afternoon light, its wooden walls weathered and gaps between the planks letting in drafts of frigid air.
But today, even this miserable structure couldn’t dampen his spirits.
Slowly opening the door with the care of someone savoring a long-awaited moment, Ethan entered his hut and began methodically storing away the cleaning equipment he had used at the tomb.
The bucket of dirty water was emptied outside, the brushes were cleaned and arranged neatly in the corner, and the various tools were checked and maintained as he had been taught.
His movements were deliberate and unhurried, building up the anticipation for what was to come while also taking pride in completing his duties properly.
The routine of caring for his equipment had become almost meditative over the past ten days.
It was one of the few aspects of his new life that he could control completely, and maintaining his tools in good condition was both practical and psychologically important. In a place where so much was uncertain and hostile, having a small routine that he could execute perfectly provided a sense of stability.
His eyes immediately darted toward the corner of his hut where a fishing rod lay propped against the rough wooden wall.
The simple piece of equipment might as well have been made of gold for how precious it seemed to him in that moment.
The rod was elegantly crafted, its length perfectly balanced and its surface polished smooth from years of use.
He had borrowed the fishing rod from Kael, and thankfully, the man hadn’t minded sharing.
During their conversations over the past few days, Kael had mentioned with his characteristic pride that he had spent almost two years in this village and had witnessed many residents building their own fishing rods from scratch.
Being the observant type—or perhaps just desperately bored—he had learned the craft himself and had constructed several rods throughout his tenure.
"You’d be amazed at what people can create when they have nothing but time," Kael had explained during one of his rambling monologues.
"I’ve seen residents carve chess sets, weave baskets from lake reeds, even attempt to write poetry. Fishing rod construction is actually one of the more practical skills you can develop here."
The process, according to Kael, involved carefully selecting branches from the few hardy trees that grew near the village, seasoning them properly, and crafting the various components needed for a functional fishing implement.
It required patience, skill, and access to materials that weren’t always easy to obtain.
Giving one of his spare rods to Ethan posed no problem for him, especially since he seemed genuinely pleased to have someone show interest in his expertise.
Kael’s enthusiasm for sharing knowledge was one of his more endearing traits, even if his mental state was questionable.
"Consider it a welcome gift," Kael had said with that slightly unhinged smile of his.
"Everyone needs a hobby to keep the madness at bay, and fishing is one of the safer options around here. Some people try to explore the restricted areas of the tomb complex, others attempt to swim in the deeper parts of the lake—those activities tend to end poorly."
The implications of Kael’s warning had been clear enough.
The Serene Mirror Lake held dangers beyond the obvious cold and yin energy.
There were boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed, depths that shouldn’t be explored, and activities that carried risks far beyond simple failure.
Ethan slowly walked toward the fishing rod, his hands trembling slightly as he picked it up. The wood was smooth and well-crafted, clearly the work of someone who had put considerable care into its construction.
The weight distribution was perfect, the joints fitted seamlessly, and the line guides were positioned with precision.
It was obviously the product of many hours of careful work and attention to detail.
Beside the rod lay an empty bucket that would hopefully serve as storage for whatever fish he might be lucky enough to catch.
The bucket was simple but sturdy, crafted from the same type of wood as most of the village’s equipment.
Even if he didn’t catch anything substantial, having the bucket would make him feel more like a real fisherman rather than just someone playing with a stick and string.
His hands were literally shaking with excitement—a sensation he had almost forgotten was possible after the past week of unrelenting misery and despair.
The trembling wasn’t from cold or weakness, but from genuine anticipation and hope. It was such a simple pleasure, but in his current circumstances, simple pleasures were more valuable than any treasure the sect could offer.
When was the last time I felt this excited about anything? he wondered as he gathered his equipment.
Probably not since before I transmigrated into this world. Maybe fishing will help me remember what it feels like to actually enjoy life.
Making his way out of the hut, Ethan followed the dirt path that led toward the lake.
The path hadn’t been intentionally constructed by anyone—it had formed naturally over time as countless residents walked the same route day after day, their footsteps gradually wearing down the earth and creating a clear trail between the village and the water’s edge.
The path was well-worn and easy to follow, marked by small stones and other landmarks that previous walkers had placed to help navigation.
The walk felt different today, filled with purpose and anticipation rather than the usual trudging resignation that characterized his trips to and from the tomb. His step was lighter, his breathing easier, and even the weight of the fishing equipment felt pleasant rather than burdensome. Even the oppressive cold seemed less harsh, and the ominous mist rising from the lake’s surface looked almost mystical rather than threatening.
Other residents he passed along the way nodded or offered brief greetings, some noting his fishing gear with knowing smiles.
It was clear that fishing was a popular activity among the long-term residents, and his decision to try it marked him as someone who was beginning to adapt to life in the village rather than just existing in misery.
"Good luck out there," called out an older man who was returning from his own fishing expedition, a modest catch visible in his bucket.
"The fish are biting well today—something about the mist pattern makes them more active."
Ethan reached the Serene Mirror Lake and took a moment to appreciate the view that he had only seen from a distance before.
Up close, the lake was even more impressive and unsettling than he had imagined. The water was impossibly dark, so black that it seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.
The surface was mirror-smooth despite the gentle breeze, creating an effect that was both beautiful and deeply unnatural.
Wisps of ethereal mist drifted across the water like ghostly fingers, and the temperature near the lake’s edge was noticeably colder than in the village proper.
Ancient willows lined portions of the shore, their drooping branches creating natural alcoves that provided some shelter from the wind.
The entire scene possessed an otherworldly beauty that was simultaneously captivating and ominous.
He found a quiet spot along the shoreline where no other anglers were currently stationed, settling on a flat stone that provided a decent makeshift seat.
The location offered a good view of the water while being far enough from other fishermen to avoid interfering with their lines or disturbing their concentration.
Ethan didn’t have particularly high expectations for catching a large quantity of fish today—this was more about the experience than the results, about proving to himself that he could find moments of peace and enjoyment even in his current circumstances.
As such, he didn’t mind settling in what might not have been the optimal fishing location where the most fish would congregate. Sometimes the journey was more important than the destination.
Settling himself comfortably and preparing his line, Ethan took a deep breath of the cold, clean air.
For the first time since arriving at this cursed place, he felt genuinely optimistic about the immediate future. Just as he was about to cast his line into the dark waters and begin his first fishing expedition in this strange new world—
[System has found a suitable host for the God-tier fishing system]
The words appeared in his vision like glowing text suspended in mid-air, causing Ethan to nearly drop his fishing rod in shock.
His heart pounded as he stared at the impossible display floating before his eyes, the text pulsing with a soft blue light that seemed to emanate from within his own consciousness.
[Complete missions by fishing and you can obtain great rewards]
[The starter gift has been delivered to the system inventory, please open it as soon as possible]
What the hell? Ethan’s mind reeled as he tried to process what was happening.
A system? Like in those web novels I used to read back on Earth? This is actually happening? After everything that’s gone wrong, am I finally getting the classic transmigrator’s cheat ability?
His hands gripped the fishing rod tighter as excitement and disbelief warred in his chest.
This was beyond his wildest dreams—not just because of the potential power, but because it represented hope. Real, tangible hope for changing his circumstances.
Before he could fully process what was occurring, more text began appearing:
[The starter gift is being opened, please wait...]
A progress bar materialized in his vision, slowly filling as some unseen process completed itself. Ethan watched in fascination and growing excitement as the bar incrementally advanced, each percentage point representing possibilities he had never dared imagine.
[The starter gift has been opened successfully]
[Items obtained:]
[- Top-tier Water Spiritual Root]
[- Saint Tier Technique: "Nine Waves of the Eternal Sea"]
[- Saint Tier Body Refining Technique: "Celestial Jade Physique Scripture"]
Three rewards. Three incredible, impossible rewards that could potentially change everything about his situation.
Ethan stared at the notifications with wide eyes, his excitement reaching levels he hadn’t thought possible since his transmigration.
A spiritual root—something he had never possessed and never thought he could obtain. Not just any spiritual root, but a top-tier one specifically attuned to water.
The implications were staggering. He might actually be able to practice spiritual cultivation now, to follow the same path as those who had looked down on him his entire life.
The very foundation of this world’s power structure suddenly seemed within his reach.
The techniques were clearly extraordinary as well.
"Holy Tier" designations suggested power levels far beyond anything a mere outer sect disciple would normally have access to.
These were the kinds of cultivation methods that sect elders would kill to possess, the legendary techniques that created the powerful cultivators whose names became legend.
As his mind struggled to process this impossible windfall, Ethan noticed something else had changed in his vision.
A "Status" option that had been grayed out and inaccessible before was now highlighted in white, clearly indicating it was available for use. The interface seemed intuitive, responding to his thoughts and intentions in a way that felt natural despite being completely alien.
With trembling fingers—though now from anticipation rather than simple excitement—Ethan mentally selected the Status option. Another screen materialized before him, displaying information that made his breath catch in his throat:
[Name: Ethan]
[Cultivation: Physical Cultivator]
[Comprehension: Super]
[Realm: Comparable to the perfection of the Qi Refining Realm. Note: There is no clear cultivation realm in physical cultivation, and it needs to be determined by actual combat ability]
[Evaluation: Will not die while taking a stroll in a low-tier city.]
Ethan stared at the information displayed before him, his mind racing to understand what he was seeing. His physical cultivation was equivalent to the perfection of the Qi Refining Realm—a level he hadn’t realized he had achieved through his years of training and the constant struggle for survival.
The "Super" comprehension rating was particularly intriguing, suggesting that his ability to understand and learn new techniques was far above average.
perfection of the Qi Refining Realm, he thought with wonder. That’s... that’s actually not terrible. Most outer sect disciples never make it past the perfection of the Qi Refining during their entire time in the sect.
The evaluation was almost insulting in its backhanded nature, but he supposed not dying during casual travel was better than his previous assessment of his own abilities. At least the system had a sense of humor, even if it was rather dry.