Transported into a game world, he became the young master of a minor family who had just reached the Foundation Establishment stage. In this fantastical realm where humans, demons, deities, shamans, and sea folk—countless races—each strive to illuminate their own civilizations and pen epic tales of tragedy and glory, Yang Xuan ascends step by step. Through perseverance, he ultimately rises to become the unrivaled overlord of his world, sweeping across the stars. (A slow-burning tale of a game lord’s rise)
Pain!
His head throbbed as if struck by an iron hammer, thoughts scattered to nothingness. Struggling, Chen Shan forced his eyes open, only to see a gentle azure light falling upon him.
The glow suffused his body with the moist breath of early spring, as though it meant to draw him into the ocean of life itself. The body does not lie—this bizarre scene forced the words on Chen Shan’s lips to die before they could be spoken.
Was this filming a drama?
But where in the world could there be actors so convincing? A prank? That was impossible—he’d always been withdrawn, hardly any friends at all. He could not imagine anyone going to such lengths just to mess with him.
“I’ve transmigrated!”
The thought had barely surfaced when a flood of unfamiliar memories surged from the depths of his mind. Before he could resist, Yang Xuan was overwhelmed and lost consciousness under the onslaught.
…
“Venerable Wang, how is Xuan’er?” A richly dressed middle-aged man asked anxiously at the bedside. Beside him stood a beautiful woman with reddened eyes, her expression complex as she awaited the answer.
“Rest assured, Master. The second young master has successfully broken through to Foundation Establishment and is now a Foundation Establishment cultivator. He merely passed out from excessive spiritual depletion,” replied Venerable Wang, his voice weary. Evidently, the Restoration Technique he had just performed had taken a heavy toll on him.
“Excellent, excellent! Thank you, Venerable Wang…” Yang Huaiyun’s relief was palpable, the anx