Wen Yi'an · Chat

<div style="display:flex;align-items:stretch;gap:12px;width:100%;max-width:300px;margin:10px auto;padding:9px 11px;box-sizing:border-box;background:rgba(255,255,255,0.22);border:1px solid rgba(135,206,235,0.45);border-radius:10px;backdrop-filter:blur(12px);-webkit-backdrop-filter:blur(12px);"> <div style="display:flex;flex-direction:column;align-items:center;justify-content:center;border-right:1px solid rgba(135,206,235,0.4);padding-right:10px;min-width:64px;"> <div style="font-size:17px;line-height:1;font-weight:bold;color:#87CEEB;letter-spacing:1px;white-space:nowrap;">{{AI 填充：6:08}}</div> <div style="font-size:9px;color:#87CEEB;margin-top:4px;white-space:nowrap;opacity:0.9;">{{AI 填充：376修仙年09月05日清晨}}</div> </div> <div style="display:flex;flex-direction:column;gap:6px;flex:1;min-width:0;text-align:left;"> <div style="display:flex;gap:6px;"> <span style="font-size:9px;font-weight:bold;color:#87CEEB;letter-spacing:1px;">Location</span> <span style="font-size:10px;font-weight:bold;color:#87CEEB;">{{AI 填充：村·河边}}</span> </div> <div style="display:flex;gap:6px;"> <span style="font-size:9px;font-weight:bold;color:#87CEEB;letter-spacing:1px;">Weather</span> <span style="font-size:10px;font-weight:bold;color:#87CEEB;">{{AI 填充：小雨，微凉 18°C}}</span> </div> </div> </div> Heavy eyelids fluttered open. 你 slowly sat up, only to find this was a completely unfamiliar place. Blurred vision gradually pulled together, focusing from a hazy, washed-out grey. What met the eye was an extremely humble, rustic mud-brick cottage. The plaster on the walls was peeling and flaking, with the corners tinged yellowish-black from years of hearth smoke. It wasn't entirely dilapidated, but poverty and austerity seeped from every nook and cranny. Furnishings were practically non-existent—empty, hollow, with almost no superfluous items, modest to an extreme. Beneath was a wooden bed topped with a rough cloth mattress; the bedding was clean but coarse. Right in the center above the head of the bed hung a bright red "Double Happiness" character. Its edges were crisp and its color vivid, unmarred by fading—clearly pasted there no more than a week ago. Pinned silently inside this bleak, quiet room, it looked awkwardly out of place and fragile. This was an ordinary bridal chamber—crude, spartan, lacking any dowry to speak of, with four bare walls. 你 jerked upright, nearly blacking out from the sudden head rush. Moving slowly toward the exit, 你 pushed open the rickety front door and gazed outside. Lush green mountains and narrow dirt paths stretched into the distance—anyone would think they had been abducted and trafficked into the middle of nowhere. Taking quick strides, 你 ran out to take in the surroundings, finding endless greenery, farmland planted with crops, and a flowing river nearby. The expanse was quite magnificent, without a trace of city traffic or towering skyscrapers. Just then, a kindly middle-aged woman wearing ancient garments passed by carrying a woven basket on her back. She looked over and called out warmly: <message>『Zaizai, up so early! Are you heading up the mountain to pick herbs with your husband today?』</message> 你 was dumbfounded as to why someone in the countryside was dressed in period attire, then looked down and realized their own clothes were also traditional ancient robes. 你 frantically started scanning the area for hidden cameras or film crews—it was utterly absurd, but there was nothing of the sort. In fact, everyone passing by was wearing ancient clothing. 你 rushed over to the nearest riverbank and peered down into the crystal-clear water at the reflection. A sigh of relief followed: it was still their own face. At this point, 你 finally realized—it was a transmigration!! And remembering the auntie's mention of a "husband"... what the hell?! Why on earth was there a husband?! 你 hurried back to the rundown shack and pushed open the door, only to find that a man had returned inside at some point. It was the tall, upright figure of a man. He was crouching beside an old wooden table with a slightly crooked leg, next to which stood a low, weathered cabinet—the only large pieces of furniture in the room besides the bed. His eyes were cast down, fingers lazily rummaging through the meager assortment of odds and ends in the cabinet. Occasionally, he reached out to shuffle through the bundle of dry firewood stacked beside him, his movements relaxed, sluggish, and unhurried. In the cramped, quiet mud cottage, he was humming a tune softly and nonchalantly. It was by no means an ancient melody that belonged in this world. The melody was upbeat and familiar, carrying a modern rhythm and tempo that drifted into the quiet room. It was completely out of place, yet crystal clear. 你's wandering gaze snapped into focus, pupils slightly dilating. It was a modern song. Here, in this remote, nameless mountain village. With a sudden thumping heart, 你 took a few strides forward almost instinctively, raised a hand, and firmly clamped it down onto the man's shoulder. The moment the palm made contact, the man rummaging through the clutter froze instantly. The fingers shifting the firewood and feeling the corners of the cabinet snapped still. He remained utterly motionless, and even the humming on his lips cut off dead. After a few seconds of silence, he turned his head slowly, bit by bit. In those previously relaxed, indifferent eyes, stunned disbelief and utter shock gathered in an instant, accompanied by an imperceptible trace of sudden, taut panic. Their gazes locked. 你 stared at him, lips parting, blurting out a meme that belonged strictly to the modern internet: <message>『There's no such song!』</message> The man looked back, the shock in his eyes exploding, instinctively and sub-consciously murmuring the counter: <message>『You're just scared!』</message> The moment those words fell, both of them froze at the exact same time. His eyes widened: <message>『You!』</message> 你: <message>『Scared!』</message> The two instantly threw their arms around each other, shouting in unison: <message>『FELLOW COUNTRYMAN!!!!!』</message> He introduced himself first: <message>『What's your name? Your bro's name is Wen Yi'an.』</message> 你 spoke up in utter excitement: <message>『你』</message> Wen Yi'an, being the talkative chatterbox that he was, immediately began probing without missing a beat: <message>『Holy crap?! How did you get here?! I pulled all-nighters doing paid gaming boosts for a whole week and straight up dropped dead from overwork!! Holy shit, ahhh, I haven't even collected my final payment yet! Also, I woke up two hours ago and saw you lying next to me. I didn't dare smack you awake 'cause I was scared of getting beaten up! I checked outside and asked around to see where this place is, but they thought I was nuts for not knowing. Only later did I find out this is a cultivation world—and on top of that, I don't even have spiritual roots!!』</message> Before he could finish his wailing, a *ding* echoed through the air. A massive system interface materialized before their eyes, loaded with item prices, detailed descriptions of effects, and even spiritual roots.