After Switching Bodies with the Villainous Demon Lord - Chapter 1

This time, the grand Cultivation Ceremony was held at Cangyu Sect. All the sects arrived as expected, with rows of large flying artifacts hovering in mid-air, creating a magnificent spectacle.

People in different robes descended from the vessels. Leading each group were the sect leaders, followed by the young, talented cultivators representing their sects in the competition.

The crowd was bustling, noisy beyond compare.

After the sect leaders gathered, they were led to the viewing platform. Along the way, they exchanged casual greetings and polite banter, every move exuding the calm confidence of those in high positions.

But when they arrived and saw the faint figure behind the gauzy curtain next to the Cangyu Sect sect leader, their expressions froze. That previously unbothered air vanished in an instant, and they quickly composed themselves, heading to their seats with stiff faces.

They waited for a long time, until sweat drenched their backs, but the man seated behind the veil still didn’t speak a word.

It wasn’t until then that Cangyu Sect’s sect leader, Li Qingyuan, gave a light cough, stood respectfully from his seat, and walked to the curtain with cupped hands. “Shizun, the time has come.”

Duan Ze’s head drooped down, and he jerked awake from his nap. He instinctively looked up at the sky to make sure nothing had changed, then lazily tidied his robes. After a brief pause, he let out a cold, indifferent hum from deep in his throat. “Mm.”

With that, the man stood from his seat.

His pale, slender fingers pinched the edge of the curtain and pulled it aside. In an instant, a powerful pressure surged out through the gap and swept across the entire arena.

All noise ceased.

The man stepped out, dressed in flowing white robes, tall and elegant like a crane. His eyes were lowered slightly, lips lightly pressed together, his features cold as if carved from eternal snow. A gentle breeze lifted a few strands of his dark hair, and his robes fluttered like mist. Every gesture, every step stirred the heart, yet he carried an air of aloof detachment.

“Let’s begin.” Duan Ze’s lips moved slightly, his tone indifferent. He casually raised a hand, and as he spoke, his gaze swept past the other sect leaders nearby before he turned and walked back into the gauzy curtain.

The others, sensing his glance, immediately sat up straight. A few of their faces even twitched slightly.

Why the hell did no one tell them Immortal Duan Ze came out of seclusion today?!

Li Qingyuan nodded, the corners of his lips curling up in a proud smile, then announced the official start of the ceremony.

Back behind the curtain, Duan Ze slumped onto the soft couch prepared just for him, like his bones had been pulled out. He rubbed his face with one hand, and the elegant, immortal aura from earlier vanished in an instant.

No matter what he did behind the veil, to the outside world he was just a calm, seated shadow.

It had already been fifty years since he transmigrated into this cultivation power fantasy novel.

The original owner of this body was the Shizu of the protagonist, a high and mighty figure with unrivaled cultivation, feared and revered by all in the cultivation world. A pretty decent role, honestly.

But the reason this cannon fodder’s cultivation was so OP was because the original had secretly practiced a forbidden technique. Not only did it skyrocket his strength, but it also came with a deadly side effect.

To make up for it, the original set his sights on the protagonist. On the surface, he was the kind, white-bearded grandpa giving sage advice. But secretly, he’d taken a liking to the protagonist’s special physique, and had plans to turn the poor kid into a walking medicine cauldron.

Sure, it was a power fantasy novel, but it followed the whole “break then rebuild” trope. The protagonist’s early life was as miserable as it could get. And once the protagonist rose up later, it’d be the original’s turn to suffer a fate worse than death.

The worst part? When Duan Ze arrived, the forbidden technique was already fully cultivated, and the human-medicine plan was more than halfway done. No way to back out now.

Duan Ze let out a small sigh. He hovered his hand over the fruit platter next to him, hesitated, then pulled out a spiritual fruit from his storage ring and popped it into his mouth.

In the past fifty years, he’d also discovered that if he did anything out of character in front of others, he’d get struck by lightning.

Like that fruit platter over there—his cold, aloof Shizu self wouldn’t just casually eat fruit.

Even if he did eat it, no one could see.

Through the curtain, he could just make out the protagonist of this novel, Xie Qingyu, standing in the waiting area, chatting and laughing with others. There wasn’t even a hint of darkness in his expression.

That made Duan Ze feel a bit relieved.

After taking a few days to adapt when he first arrived, he had taken the protagonist—who’d been stuck doing menial labor in the outer sect for nearly a hundred years—under his wing. He went from being the Shizu to become the Shizun.

Part of it was sympathy—he didn’t want to see the kid suffer so much. The other part was wanting to rewrite fate.

While secretly detoxing the protagonist, he also constantly instilled the value of respecting one’s teacher. After fifty years of careful work, he’d finally raised him into a bright, optimistic, and well-mannered good boy.

Duan Ze was zoning out when suddenly, a surge of heat burst up from his dantian and spread rapidly through his body.

His eyes sharpened. Something was off.

He closed his eyes and checked internally. When he opened them again, his expression carried a trace of panic. “How is that possible?”

It was only mid-month. The side effects that usually hit at the end of the month were suddenly arriving early.

And right when all the powerful figures of the cultivation world were gathered at the ceremony?! If anyone saw his current state, the so-called righteous cultivators would definitely gang up and kill him on the spot.

Duan Ze quickly calmed down. He pulled out two talismans from his storage ring—a substitute talisman and a teleportation talisman.

He slapped the substitute talisman onto his seat. In an instant, a perfect double of him appeared, sitting still in the exact same pose. Then, while forcibly suppressing the evil energy raging in his body, he used his spiritual power to activate the teleportation talisman.

Far away in the crowd, Xie Qingyu blinked. His gaze lifted toward the shadowy figure behind the veil. He said something to the person beside him, then got up and walked away.

——

The mountain forest at night was pitch-black, like ink poured across the land. Moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

It had just rained yesterday, so the air was thick with the earthy scent of damp soil.

From a cave in the distance came a shaky breath, like a wounded little animal curled up inside.

Duan Ze tightened the obviously ill-fitting robes on his now tiny body. His sharp eyes scanned his surroundings cautiously. Only when he was sure no one had followed him did he lower his head and look at his small hands—now several sizes too small—with helplessness. “Can’t I just catch a break…”

He had already discovered, back during his first side effect episode after transmigrating, just how twisted the creator of this forbidden technique was.

Besides permanently shattering any hopes of ascending, every month for the last three days, the side effect would cut his cultivation in half and shrink his body down to that of a three-year-old child.

If someone saw him during that time, forget the secret technique getting exposed—he couldn’t even fight back in this tiny, short-limbed state.

But this side effect had never shown up early before. What was up with that?

Duan Ze felt it was strange, but there was no clue to go on. As far as he knew, no one had ever discovered him. It was probably just a freak accident.

Returning to the sect wasn’t an option for now. He just had to survive the next three days. After that, he’d go back and explain—no, wait. Cold shizus don’t explain things. He’d just disappear and reappear like always.

After running through the options in his mind at lightning speed, Duan Ze relaxed a bit—only to immediately start trembling all over. He took out a set of child-sized clothes from his storage ring, changed quickly, then grabbed a soft towel, placed it under his face, and—

The tears fell.

This side effect had one more annoying trait—it made his emotions nosedive. Every time it hit, he’d cry non-stop in seclusion for three whole days. Now, he could only sob in this cave.

“Shifu—” The voice of a young man rang out in the quiet forest, jarringly loud.

Duan Ze hiccupped mid-cry and looked in panic toward the mouth of the cave, eyes red.

Xie Qingyu?! Why the hell was he here?!

No time to cry now. He perked up his ears and listened—and realized the worst. He wasn’t alone.

Did someone spot him when he ran off?

No way.

The ceremony lasted three days nonstop. He even used a substitute talisman before leaving. No one would dare lift his curtain to check. Even if he was discovered, it shouldn’t have happened this fast.

Duan Ze paced anxiously in place.

If it were the original, he’d probably kill to keep the secret.

But Duan Ze wasn’t him.

Still, if someone found out… he’d probably get killed off early.

He knew he couldn’t stay here. Forcing down that “screw it all” mindset brought on by the side effect, he grabbed his robes and bolted from the cave.

“Boom—” As soon as he took a step, a blinding bolt of lightning split the sky and struck right beside him—a warning for stepping out of character.

Duan Ze flinched slightly. He was sure now—he wasn’t alone. Someone had seen him. But thankfully, no one would recognize him like this.

Keeping his face calm, he gritted his teeth and charged ahead.

He poured all his spiritual power into his feet. His tiny body darted through the dense forest like a squirrel on caffeine.

The clouds above thickened. Thunder rolled and lightning followed him like a hound.

Even at full strength, these divine bolts would sometimes zap him by surprise. Now, during his weakened phase, with short little kid legs—he hadn’t gotten far before one bolt caught up and slammed into him.

A web of electricity spread from his back to his limbs. This time, the pain was fiercer than all the past strikes combined, like it was trying to rip him apart.

As the searing pain consumed him, Duan Ze suddenly felt his soul and body tear apart.

⸻

Author’s Note:

Duan Ze: “I’m just a kid, okay?!”