After Returning from a Faked Death, My Crazed, Rebellious Disciple Forced His Love Upon Me - Chapter 1

A layer of fresh snow from last night covered the pilgrimage path built of bluestone slabs.

Disciples of the Sword Sect walked past in small groups, all rushing to the Hall of Cleansing Dust for their morning lessons.

Only one person moved without haste, holding a broom and leaning over to sweep the accumulated snow off the path.

The disciples passing by caught sight of Ji Chen, who was buried in his work, and all of them wore expressions of disdain.

“Why is there still a manual laborer in a cultivation sect? Doesn’t he have classes?”

“Are you new? Don’t you know he is the only disciple in our sect who entered without even having a spiritual root?”

“How is he supposed to attend class without a spiritual root? He would not understand or learn anything anyway. He is better off spending his time as a laborer to earn a little silver.”

“If he likes sweeping so much, why does he not go do it for the commoners down the mountain? Lingering here as a servant in a great cultivation sect is such an eyesore.”

“Isn’t that the truth? Who knows how he got in back then? I guess because the sect is so big, one more person does not make a difference. Anyway, no one in the sect wants to talk to him, and he does not care to acknowledge anyone else either.”

“You are going to be late! What are you lot whispering about over there? Today the Sect Leader is teaching; if you are late, see if he does not punish you to death!”

The one who spoke last was Fu Gangeng, the Sect Leader’s personal disciple. Naturally, his voice carried an imposing weight.

The disciples passing Ji Chen picked up their pace and scurried away.

Once they were far off, Ji Chen’s gaze landed on the ground covered in dirty footprints. He stood with one hand on his hip and the other leaning on the broom handle, letting out a long, melancholy sigh.

“Sigh.”

Was sweeping really this difficult?

He had finally managed to sweep this patch of snow clean, only for those bastards to step all over it and get it dirty again.

Now he had to sweep it all over again.

He never used to do such menial tasks.

But he had no choice; he was now the sect’s “most hated” individual.

He was a spiritual-rootless waste.

He could not pick up commissions, and he did not receive a disciple’s stipend. He could only take odd jobs, working as a sanitation cleaner just to scrape by.

It was a world of difference compared to his former life as the Sword Dao Ancestor.

This whole mess started with his transmigration into this book.

To be honest, he could accept the transmigration part, especially since he had become the number one powerhouse in the immortal realm, the Sword Dao Ancestor.

However, the System had forced him to take on three disciples.

It then made him follow the plot to train these three disciples into the Sect Leader of the Sword Sect, the High Grandmaster of the Imperial City, and the Demon Venerable of the Demon Realm, respectively.

Only by completing these tasks could he return to his original world.

Ji Chen diligently completed the tasks, but the System then claimed it had encountered a bug that could not be fixed yet, and he could not go back.

But Ji Chen had already initiated his “death escape.” He had not even finished listening to the System’s explanation.

And it was not a fake death; he had actually died.

The dead cannot be resurrected.

The System gave him a “smurf” account, allowing him to be reborn with a different identity and appearance five hundred years later.

But he never expected that this was not a smurf account. It was a literal trash account!

He had no spiritual root, no family background, no cultivation, and no money.

He had absolutely nothing, and everyone around him despised him.

Ji Chen wanted to argue with the System, but the System had also “died” and vanished.

So, he could only remain in this world, living as a sunny and cheerful sweeping boy.

In his spare time, he could even build a snow sculpture of the Mixue Ice Cream logo.

Oh well.

Looking on the bright side, at least he was still alive.

And it really was peaceful.

All he had to do every day was sweep the floor.

He no longer had to worry about raising disciples, teaching disciples, or the drama of tormenting disciples.

He also did not have to be held up on a pedestal by all the cultivators, forced to act in a way that did not suit his personality.

Living like this was actually quite free and happy.

The money he earned from sweeping could be used to buy wine down the mountain.

Even though alcohol was forbidden for cultivators.

But he had no master, did not have to go to class, and even the managing elders treated him as if he did not exist. No one bothered him.

After half an hour, Ji Chen finally finished sweeping the snow. The middle of the path was spotless.

Just as he was admiring his masterpiece, he suddenly saw a burning talisman flying through the air.

The flames at the tail end were black, and the words “Voice Transmission” were written on the talisman in ancient script.

It was, predictably, a Voice Transmission Talisman.

However, the talisman did not stop in front of Ji Chen. Instead, it followed the pilgrimage path he had just swept and flew toward the Hall of Cleansing Dust.

That was where the disciples were having their lessons.

Today, the Sect Leader was teaching.

That talisman burned with black fire. It was a top-tier Voice Transmission Talisman. It definitely was not meant for an ordinary disciple.

Most likely, it was for the Sect Leader.

Ji Chen did not pay it much mind.

It had nothing to do with him anyway. Even if the sky fell, it would not fall on a sanitation worker like him.

And so, shouldering his broom, he walked off in the opposite direction with a swaggering, arrogant stride.

Shift is over!

Time to drink!

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