Master, What Dao Do You Cultivate?-Chapter 1: Want the Big One?

"Handsome, want the big one? Latest model male peripherals, just plug into your neural interface and you're good to go!"
"Uh… no thanks, my original is still going strong."
"With your good looks, sooner or later, you'll have beauties in both arms. Even gods can't resist the toll on the body. How about—"
To get rid of the persistent vendor, Ji Qinglin bought a Big Cannon and casually tossed it onto the shelf.
The general store finally quieted down. Ji Qinglin leisurely picked up his freshly brewed Full Sky Stars tea, took a small sip, and looked up at the glass window.
It was 9 PM, and the entire city of Bangkok had cooled down.
Outside the alley of his shop, vendors who hadn’t packed up were still trying to attract customers.
The holographic signs at their stalls flashed rotating text: "Safe and Virus-Free Cracked Versions: Golden Bell Shield, Monument-Splitting Palm, Flying Lian Kick..."
A few reckless tough guys squatted by the stalls, browsing martial techniques they could install, completely unconcerned about potential malware.
At the street entrance, a digital billboard displayed an ever-changing carousel of beautiful women, with bold text beneath:
"A Customized Dao Companion Every Day"—Dual Cultivation Simulator, Limited Edition!
There were obviously a lot more
gentlemen
gathered below that one.
In the blink of an eye, two years had passed. Xin Dong Street was still the same as when he first arrived.
VROOOM—
The distant roar of a motorcycle engine grew closer, breaking Ji Qinglin's train of thought.
A man dressed in simple Taoist robes stopped his bike at the entrance, its headlights illuminating the "Ji's General Store" sign.
The man swiftly dismounted, pushed open the door, and upon seeing Ji Qinglin, impatiently cupped his fists in greeting.
"Elder Ji, the disciple acceptance ceremony started long ago. The President sent me to bring you there."
On the chest of his plain Taoist robes, the yin-yang fish emblem bore the characters "Xin Dong"—a Qi Refiner from the Xin Dong Street Commerce Guild.
Qi Refiners were still fairly respected in this era. However, most cultivated under the sponsorship of guilds or corporations, which made them particularly courteous to fellow members.
"Wait a moment, I'll change my clothes."
Despite his status as an Elder, Ji Qinglin showed no airs. The Qi Refiner sighed helplessly, glancing around the store while waiting.
The shop’s layout was simple. The first floor had a desk on the left, rows of shelves on the right, and presumably, a living space upstairs.
The shelves were stocked with all sorts of cultivation accessories—outdated cybernetic arms, still-usable artificial meridians…
And then—what the hell? A Big Cannon?!
This Elder Ji seemed… rather unserious.
Based on the ed earnings of Ji's General Store, Ji Qinglin had little influence within the Xin Dong Street Commerce Guild.
Forget taking in disciples or sponsoring cultivation—outsiders would probably assume this store owner was too broke to even install high-end cultivation implants himself.
Had he not once saved the President’s son—and benefited from Old Hu's connections—he probably wouldn't have even secured an Elder seat.
The disciple acceptance ceremony was an event hosted by the Commerce Guild, providing sponsorship opportunities for member organizations to take in disciples.
Ji's General Store clearly lacked the financial means for such a thing, yet Ji Qinglin attended every time.
Partly to freeload goodwill from potential disciples using his Elder status, and partly to search for remnants of the old era.
But this time was unusual—the ceremony was suddenly rescheduled for the evening, and the location was oddly mysterious.
Ji Qinglin hadn’t been able to arrive on time, so the President had sent someone to fetch him.
As Ji Qinglin changed into his formal robe, the Qi Refiner took the chance to size up the youngest and most laid-back Elder in the guild.
Most people pictured him always wearing a deep blue hoodie, its brim pulled low over his face.
Now, with his hood removed, he revealed a fair, strikingly handsome face—high nose bridge, gentle curved brows, and a perpetual smile.
Indeed, ridiculously good-looking. No wonder rumors spread about him seducing the President’s daughter to secure his Elder position.
Honestly, with that face, he’d probably rake in solid earnings even at a dual cultivation club.
His frame was tall and lean, appearing normal except for visible cybernetic modifications on his right hand and a neural interface at his chest.
Wait—at his chest?
Weren’t neural interfaces usually installed at the back of the neck?
Then again, he had even seen Qi Refiners who placed them… elsewhere. Everyone had their own
preferences
, he supposed.
Ji Qinglin threw on a raincoat and, making sure the Qi Refiner wasn’t paying attention, glanced at his jet-black right hand.
The white "lifeline" on his palm was still complete—meaning his "phone" was fully charged.
This disciple ceremony was different. Better be careful.
His modified right hand had been there ever since he awakened. Embedded within was an old-era smartphone, though all data and programs had been erased.
In his past life, his phone had never left his side. In this life, he’d literally become one.
God had to be messing with him.
This era’s modern apps were incompatible with his phone. At first, he thought the ancient relic was useless—until, one day, he accidentally entered the wrong password twice.
His palm vibrated slightly, and suddenly, all smart appliances and networked devices within three meters automatically shut off.
After some testing, he discovered the effect also worked on Qi Refiners with cybernetic implants. Even better, they couldn't even trace the source of the attack.
The only downside? It drained battery fast and the shutdown effect only lasted eight seconds.
He had no idea how it worked, but for now, it was his best self-defense mechanism.
The Qi Refiner pulled his helmet low, covering his guild insignia as if afraid of being recognized.
With a sharp twist of the throttle, the motorcycle disappeared into the alley.
Cold wind brushed Ji Qinglin’s face, bringing memories with it, like scenes from an old film.
He had been terminally ill with late-stage liver cancer. His parents had tried everything, but his condition only worsened.
Eventually, he came to terms with it and voluntarily donated some of his organs, ensuring his parents would at least receive compensation.
But he never expected to wake up again, this time with a completely healthy body, in a completely different era.
According to Old Hu, the store’s previous owner, a junk dealer had brought in a truckload of old goods one morning.
The man was nervous and in a hurry, selling the entire truck for next to nothing.
Old Hu suspected the guy was a recent smuggler, offloading stolen junk.
That wasn’t exactly uncommon in modern Bangkok.
But as Old Hu sorted through the junk, he found a cylindrical pod among the trash.
Thinking it was medical waste, he pushed it near the drain and used some tools to pry it open.
Then, Ji Qinglin—along with a flood of pale liquid—spilled out into the gutter.
At first, Old Hu thought it was a corpse and was already praying for intact organs to sell.
But then, Ji Qinglin sat up.
He had read enough web novels to react instantly—playing dumb, pretending to have amnesia to avoid suspicion.
Thinking back, he really had to thank Old Hu for not chopping him up and selling him to black-market organ traders.
Rather than another world, Ji Qinglin felt like he had traveled to another timeline.
According to the internet, his original era was now considered the "Old Era."
But if this was the future, then how had his consciousness…?
Lost in thought, he barely noticed the Qi Refiner leading him through countless twists and turns into an abandoned factory.
Why the hell was the ceremony being held in such a remote, rundown place?
Had the Commerce Guild's real estate investments crashed?
Ji Qinglin cautiously scanned his surroundings, debating whether to hijack the bike and bail if things got sketchy.
Just then, the warehouse’s side door silently slid open.