Chapter Text
PROLOGUE:
FLOWER GOD’S ASCENT was a male power fantasy of a xianxia novel. To be more specific, Flower God’s Ascent was a monster-fighting, escapist cultivation novel with an incomparably ridiculous length, a plot and moral stance that circumvented any actual sense of consequence, and a collection of increasingly ridiculous magical swords with equally ridiculous special properties. In the main plot, the protagonist went about collecting every “rare and priceless” blade in his quest to ascend to the highest rank in heaven and become the Heavenly Emperor's favorite son. The year’s hottest xianxia novel—there was no other!
The male lead of this novel, the Crown Prince adorned with a Flowered Crown, was not the kind of protagonist who started as inexperienced and unsure, who needed to go on a great journey in order to grow into the perfect hero. Rather, he was seemingly born with a perfect character, perfect skills, and a perfect face. He had never encountered anything he could not do, nor had he ever met anyone who did not love him. He was the justice of the Mortal Realm, the center of the world.
He was the kind of lead who was perfect because the text told the humble and ignorant readers it was so—yet he managed to trend with tens of thousands of readers on Zhongdian Literature, inspiring countless other male fantasy novels to follow in his footsteps. He sparked fiercely loyal fans who drew his blessed image, painstakingly hand embroidered his elaborately described dragon robes to cosplay, and had even landed a live action adaptation that was said to be the most highly anticipated drama of the upcoming season.
Next, let a veteran reader of this novel omit the countless fanservice-y details and concisely summarize the million-word epic for everyone…
The Kingdom of Xianle was a vast and bountiful land. There were four treasures within it: abundant and handsome beauties, vibrant music and marvelous literature, gold and gems, and their one famous crown prince.
What would be the best way to describe this flower crowned prince? Well, he was simply perfect.
He was beloved by the king and the queen, and they doted upon him exorbitantly. They would often say with pride, “My son will become a great ruler in the future, and his good name will echo down through history!”
However, the crown prince was not interested in imperial power or wealth in the mortal world at all. What he was interested in, in his own words, was: “I want to ascend to the heights of the heavens!”
When he was young, the crown prince focused solely on his cultivation, and the bulk of the novel centered around several short stories of miraculous and cursed swords alike, all which fell easily into the hands of the male protagonist as he cultivated higher and higher. However, there was one short story of the prince's valor that stood out, so different among the dozens of chapters describing endless fantastical swords.
This tale took place when the crown prince was seventeen.
The wondrous Shangyuan Festival, upon the Grand Avenue of Divine Might. Seas of people gathered on either side of the grand street, with royals and nobles talking and laughing in merriment atop the high platforms. The glorious royal warriors bedecked in armor opened the paths, while maidens danced elegantly, their fair hands scattering flowers—and who could say whether the flowers or the maidens were more beautiful?
From within the golden carriage came marvelous music that drifted across the entire imperial city. And at the rear of the procession was a grand stage pulled by sixteen white horses in golden bridles.
Upon this towering grand stage stood the God-Pleasing Warrior, the focus of everyone’s attention. At the Heavenly Ceremonial Procession, the God-Pleasing Warrior wore a golden mask. Dressed in glamorous attire and with a sacred sword in hand, he played the role of the subduer of evil, the number one martial god for the past thousand years: the Heavenly Emperor, Jun Wu.
It was the greatest of honors to be chosen for the role of the God-Pleasing Warrior, which was why the selection criteria were exceedingly strict. Thus, the one chosen that year was that crown prince. People across the kingdom believed that he would give the most thrilling performance as the God-Pleasing Warrior.
However, an accident happened that day. During the third tour of the procession, it passed by a city wall that was hundreds of meters tall. At the time, the martial god upon the grand stage was just about to strike the demon down. It was the climax of the performance, with people on both sides of the street at the height of excitement. The top of the city wall swarmed with crowds clamoring to watch the show, pushing and shoving each other to get the best view. At that moment, a small child fell from the edge of the wall.
The screams of the crowd reached to the heavens. Just as the God-Pleasing Warrior was about to land the ultimate blow against the fearsome demon on the parade’s third trip round the the city, the child struck the ground and stained the Grand Avenue of Divine Might with blood.
This was ominous luck! The gravest of misfortunes!
Every trip the grand stage made around the imperial capital symbolized one year of peace and harmony within the kingdom. Now that it was cut short, did that not mean the invitation of disaster?!
With a flourish of elaborate and colorful robes, the God-Pleasing Warrior leapt to the child’s still body, quickly discovering that the child was already dead. When he stood, it was without so much as a drop of blood or grime on his pristine garb. The warrior stood tall, and with a sweeping movement of his arms that drew the eyes of the crowd away from the gruesome sight, he pointed his sword towards the “demon” still standing on the stage.
“For the sake of innocence lost, I will not stop until the evil has been subdued!” he cried, before leaping grandly towards the processional he’d left behind. His voice was so triumphant, his movements so graceful and powerful, that it elicited joyous cries from the crowd!
The broken and mangled corpse was quickly collected and hidden away by city guards as the crowd completely forgot about the very real tragedy in favor of their beloved crown prince, who continued the parade an additional 7 times around the city capital, ensuring prosperity for the whole of the people of Xianle!
Truly, this Royal Highness was no doubt the darling of the heavens. Whatever he wanted, he received; whatever he wanted to do, he succeeded. Whatever choice he made was the most righteous and virtuous of all decisions!
“But that's horrible! How could he continue the parade, just like that! How is it right for him to just step on anyone beneath him! AHH! Dumbfuck author, dumbfuck novel!” With his dying breath, our transmigrator spat this final curse.
Who could have imagined that an upstanding young man like him—who had properly purchased the website’s VIP currency and read the novel’s official version—would find himself persevering before his untimely death to finish a novel so narcissistic, so elitist and overtly morally corrupt, that it left him speechless with rage?
How could he not curse? Flower God’s Ascent, by Skyward Shooting High Roller. Just looking at that euphemistic handle smacked you in the face with a dirty feeling. Grade-school level writing with landmines everywhere, breaking all suspension of disbelief. And our transmigrator couldn’t bear to pretend that he wasn’t horrified at the way the crown prince was routinely praised and rewarded for pushing himself towards greater heights, even when it required him to trample over the misfortune and dismay of others.
So why had he started this book, even going so far as to read it to the very end? Don’t misunderstand, our transmigrator didn’t enjoy degrading himself. The reason he had persisted was also what had caused him the most frustration.
This novel had an incredible amount of foreshadowing, plotlines everywhere, mystery after mystery, layer upon layer of red herrings. And at the very end—not a single one paid off! It was enough to make him want to puke a fountain of blood.
Who had been the culprit behind the scores of atrocities? Exactly what was the purpose of the unending list of swords so hyped up for being awesome and without equal? Why were none of them crucial for furthering the prince’s cultivation, or saving his doomed Kingdom, or even once the solution to give more than an empty promise of prosperity to the side characters who praised him endlessly?!
Skyward Shooting-bro, High Roller-bro, “Great Master”: Can we have a discussion? Fill! In! Plot holes! Okay?!
Our transmigrator felt like he could have come back to life with the power of sheer indignation and righteous fury.
In the endless darkness, a mechanical voice sounded by his ear:
【 Activation code: “Dumbfuck author, dumbfuck novel.” System automatically triggered. 】
The tone reminded him of Google Translate. “Who is this?” our transmigrator looked around. It seemed like he was floating in a virtual space, one so dark that he couldn’t see his hand before him. The voice came from all directions.
【 Welcome to the System. This System operates in line with the design concept “YOU CAN YOU UP, NO CAN NO BB”; we hope to provide you with the best possible experience. It is our sincere wish that during your time, you can fulfill your desires and, in accordance with your wish, transform a stupid work into a magnificent, high-quality, first-rate classic. We hope you enjoy. 】
In the midst of his ensuing vertigo, a man’s voice asked lightly beside him, “…Dianxia? Dianxia, can you hear me? We must hurry, it's time to dress for the Heavenly Ceremonial Processional.”
~800 years later~
Walking alone along the dirt path, with white robes whose sleeves were frayed and hem stained with mud, Xie Lian inspected the newest pieces of scrap he’d collected in the nearby village before he’d been chased out.
“Hmm, not too bad,” he mumbled aloud as he thumbed through the broken shards of a teapot. “No major pieces missing. With a strong enough sealant, I’m sure I could fix this until it could hold enough for a hot cup of tea.”
The ribbon on his wrist wriggled to life, unlooping a bit until it was just long enough to poke at the shards for a moment, before tilting up towards his face with a clear impression of disbelief,
“Don’t doubt me, Ruoye!” he said with a chuckle. “It is an artform to some! Kintsugi… I think that’s what it was called. Gold and lacquer mixed together in order to repair broken pottery and turn it into something even more beautiful!”
Xie Lian paused mid step as Ruoye tilted slightly, like a child cocking its head to the side in confusion.
“Ah, well. Perhaps here it's more similar to Jin Shan? I’m not really sure what the history of the two are, or what came first. Or even if it was just two languages referring to the same thing…”
Xie Lian’s voice trailed off as he tried to recall details of a life long gone.
Living as an immortal was not something Xie Lian had ever tried to conceptualize as a young man. In his home world, cultivation towards immortality and ascension was a distant religious belief, and a popular fantasy trope for a semi-otaku like he had once been.
Back then, being immortal was part of a power fantasy. But in reality, his immortality was just another part of the curse keeping him trapped in a world where he was utterly out of place, and very alone.
When he had first transmigrated into the protagonist of Flower God’s Ascent, he woke knowing that his name was Xie Lian, and everyone had always called him by that name. But for some strange reason, he couldn’t remember if that had truly been the name of the original goods, or if Xie Lian had been his name before death, and the System had just reworked the world to know him by his true address.
It hadn’t mattered to him very much at first. Having been an avid reader of transmigration and isekai novels, he had instantly realized the golden opportunity he’d been given by arriving in the role of the protagonist. In all the excitement and compartmentalizing he’d done to try and adapt quickly into his new life, he’d forged ahead with changing the plot, believing that the original goods’ plot armor of always achieving his goals and always being right would naturally transfer to him!
But of course, that wasn’t the case.
Somehow, it hadn’t occurred to him when he failed to save Xianle. It hadn’t even occurred to him when he was first banished from the Heavens. It took losing the only two friends he had made in this life, and the parents he’d come to care for as his own leaving him early, before Xie Lian realized he was no longer living in a power fantasy novel, but a tragedy.
“Either way, I don’t have anything of value, much less gold, that I could use to begin fixing this mess,” he continued. “Still, I think the sap from the trees in the regions just north of here will make a good base for a laquer…”
Xie Lian continued to wander and wonder idly aloud to his only companion, his thoughts straying only occasionally to the world he’d called home, several lifetimes ago.
Eventually, the sun began to set, and Xie Lian found a small overhang of rocks to shelter under for the night, as clouds had begun to gather overhead.
Despite his abysmal luck, he’d managed to salvage a bed roll before leaving the previous village. He rolled it out, ignoring the thinning sections and several holes before laying down just as the gentle sound of rain began to hit the leaves of the trees outside his small shelter.
Before falling asleep, he mentally summoned the System’s window, as he had done every night since his second banishment.
“System?”
【 Welcome to the System. Searching for objectives… searching… searching… sear-ERROR! ERROR! ERROR.exe! Plot could not be found! Please standby as the System attempts to reconnect… standby… standby… standby… 】
Though he’d known to expect it, the all too familiar message still sent a small pang of dejection through him.
Xie Lian waved his hand to close the window, rolling over abruptly with the movement to look away from the entity that had brought him here and abandoned him so long ago.
Xie Lian soon fell asleep, not wanting to bother wallowing in the same desolate feeling.
He didn’t see that he had not succeeded in fully closing the glowing blue window, and had only muted the sound by mistake.
【 Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Important things must be said three times! Current C-points: 1,000,000! User has amassed enough points through collecting useless trash to cultivate towards ascension! Would user like to accept ascension? 】
Unseen to Xie Lian, a second window popped up with two choices, “Accept” on the left and “Reject” on the right. Under the two choices was a timer countdown, signalling an automatic choice selection should the timer run out.
The timer ticked ever so slowly down as clouds continued to gather, and the light rain slowly grew into a raging storm. Amidst the crashes of lighting and the roars of thunder, Xie Lian startled awake, leaping to his feet at the sound of the storm.
He hazily realized the System’s window was still open, and he read the message, its meaning clicking just as the timer reached zero.
Suddenly, there was another huge rumble in the sky. The heavens fell and the earth cracked, the ground trembled and the mountains shook, and the crown prince ascended, just as he began to reach for the button to the right.
END OF PROLOGUE