Chương 1: The Untouchable Goddess’ Secret Side Job — Number 8, Reporting for Duty

"You're an Eighth Realm Half-Step Martial God, and you threw your life away holding off a beast horde to save a few dozen ordinary people. Was it worth it?" In a pure white room, on a hospital bed surrounded by blinking instruments. Wang Xian's body was wrapped in bandages, pierced with tubes. He paid them no mind, just smiled at the man beside him.

"It's not about worth. I stepped onto the Martial Path too late, and I took the old martial route. I drained my body's potential long ago. The eighth realm was my limit."

"Besides, I'm a martial warrior. Defending the nation, protecting the people—that's my duty." Beep, beep— The nearby instruments pulsed weakly. The man at the bedside sighed.

"Still putting on that act. You think your brother doesn't know you? It's because Chen Yuting was in that crowd, wasn't it? Over the years, you've met what, a thousand outstanding women? Eight hundred at least? I've seen you scrolling through those thirst-trap short videos. You're really that hung up on her?"

"You know some Charm Clan beasts transform into human women to seduce men. I mainly watch those for public safety research..."

"Get lost!" Wang Xian fell silent for a moment, then sighed.

"Back in freshman year, during the Initial Martial Aptitude Test, they measured my Innate Vitality at 0. 1. Dead last in the class. Almost completely locked out of the Martial Path. I was in despair back then."

"If it weren't for that painting, I probably never would have set foot on this path." In the Initial Martial Aptitude Test, the higher one's Innate Vitality, the stronger one's blood and qi, and the easier it is to achieve Life Transcendence. Even without awakening any martial talent, one could still achieve considerable success. Innate Vitality of 0. 1 for a teenager just starting high school, dreaming of a future on the Martial Path, that was a devastating blow.

It was also why Wang Xian completely slacked off his first two years, idling his days away, becoming a marginal figure in class. A notorious underachiever. Until the start of senior year, when he received an anonymous letter. The letter held only a painting: a grown-up version of himself, wearing the Martial God Cloak that symbolized the divine realm and holding a Martial God Weapon. The meaning was clear: you will become a Martial God. A ridiculous and naive encouragement. But...

It was like a beam of light shining from behind on a dark road. Faint, yes, but it lit up a bit of the path ahead. From then on, Wang Xian had a sliver of confidence. He threw himself into his studies in college, built his martial foundation, and after graduation fought on Alien Planets, narrowly escaping death time after time. In the end, he was a late bloomer, becoming a renowned Half-Step Martial God within the Blue Star Martial Alliance.

And that painting, he'd believed it was a gift from the class beauty Chen Yuting, because back then, only Chen Yuting in the class was skilled at drawing.

"What letter?" The man pondered for a moment.

"Wait. When you got that letter, was it after a PE class?" Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings. Wang Xian nodded slightly. He remembered clearly. The man looked at him, speechless.

"Wrong. All wrong. That PE class, I went back to the classroom to get water. I saw Ye Miyue from another class sneak into our room and slip a piece of paper into your desk... A few days later, Ye Miyue died in a disaster. I thought you'd moved on, which was why you were so obsessed with Chen Yuting." Hearing this, Wang Xian's whole body shook violently. His eyes filled with disbelief.

"Impossible. I asked her about it later. She said she was the one who sent it!"

"How could it have been Ye Miyue?"

"She... lied to me!" BEEEEEP! As Wang Xian's final words fell, the lifeline on the cardiac monitor ran parallel to his life, never to intersect again. — Rong City, Northern Fist Martial Hall, on the soft mat beneath the sparring platform.

"Xiao Xian, wake up!" Dazed, Wang Xian heard a familiar voice. His whole body was being shaken hard. What the hell? I'm already dead. Can't you let me sleep a little longer?

"Dad, stop shaking him. Let me try."

"Hey, there's a 50D black-stocking JK pure-and-alluring beauty here?" Wang Xian jolted awake. His pupils contracted as he scanned his surroundings with hawk-like sharpness. Brand-new wooden training dummies. Densely packed plum-blossom stakes. Strength testers, speed-measuring belts, and the massive "Martial" character on the wall, all of it instantly filled the gaps in Wang Xian's memory. Finally, two familiar faces came into view.

The faces gradually overlapped with the figures in his memories, and Wang Xian blurted out:"Third Uncle, you're not blind yet?"

"Second Brother, where's your prosthetic?" Both men's faces darkened. They exchanged a glance, then each planted a fist on Wang Xian's temples and twisted. They didn't stop until Wang Xian begged for mercy. Wang Xian looked at the two of them and broke into a silly grin. Was this a dream? Third Uncle Wang Dabiao was like a father to him. His own parents had died early, and Third Uncle had raised him from infancy. Second Brother Wang Yan was Third Uncle's son, a brother as close as blood.

It was just that later, while Wang Xian was away fighting on Alien Planets, Third Uncle was ambushed by enemies and lost his sight. Then Second Brother offended certain powerful figures and had both legs broken. By the time Wang Xian returned, it was already too late...

"Alright, kid, rest for a bit. I'll have someone give you a massage later." Third Uncle patted Wang Xian's shoulder.

"Don't know what's gotten into you lately, training so hard..."

"As the saying goes, freshman year is a young girl, sophomore year is a maiden, senior year is a mature woman. Didn't nurture the freshman, didn't chase the sophomore, now you want to go after the senior?"

"Too late." Wang Xian chuckled but said nothing. Third Uncle's dirty jokes still had that same flavor. He walked quietly to the side, pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, and looked at the date on the screen. New Martial Calendar, Year 2024, December 1st.

"I've been reborn." Wang Xian murmured softly in his heart. This day, he would never forget it for the rest of his life. On this day, Rong City suffered a rare attack from an S-rank alien beast, the Wind King Falcon. The aftershocks rippled through several streets, with over a thousand casualties. It was also on this day that he had trained to exhaustion at the Northern Fist Martial Hall his Third Uncle ran, hadn't gone home, hadn't passed through those streets, and so escaped disaster.

And it was on this very day that Ye Miyue died on Tianfu Street, shredded to pieces by the aftershocks of the Wind King Falcon's attacks. Ye Miyue. In his previous life, he hadn't actually known her well. They weren't in the same class, and the halo around her was simply too dazzling. For him, sneaking a couple of glances at her from a distant corner was satisfaction enough. After receiving that painting, his thoughts had shifted entirely to Chen Yuting, who was in his own class.

"That painting... if it was from Ye Miyue..." Wang Xian drew a deep breath. His heart churned with countless thoughts.

"Xiao Xian, Dad's got it all arranged. Room 18. Follow me." Second Brother approached from a distance, draping an arm over Wang Xian's shoulder and steering him toward the back of the martial hall.

"Hey, wait, I've got things to do..."

"What could be more important than this? Perfect timing, a new girl started today. You can sample something fresh..." Can you not make it sound so damn lewd? Wang Xian thought. The Northern Fist Martial Hall did have a legitimate massage room. Of course, they also had the illegitimate kind. It just cost extra. Ahem, by "illegitimate," he meant the kind that could massage your entire body until it fell apart...

using martial yuan force to help students open their blood flow, relax their sinews, and expand their meridians. Those packages started at tens of thousands per session. The legitimate ones were only a few hundred to a thousand, helping students relieve fatigue and refresh their spirits. Dragged along by Second Brother, Wang Xian was pushed into Room 18 and pressed down onto the soft bed.

"Young man, enjoy yourself." The dim indigo lighting, soft and gentle, eased Wang Xian's mind a little.

"No, I have to go find Ye Miyue." Wang Xian thought for a moment and was about to get up. Suddenly, with a click, the door opened. A faint, delicate fragrance slithered into his nostrils like a small snake. Wang Xian froze. The next moment, a voice, timid yet tinged with cool detachment, rang out:"H... hello... I'm masseuse number 8..." The voice was like heavenly music, carrying the aloofness of a fairy untouched by mortal affairs. It instantly stirred a memory deep within Wang Xian's mind. It's her!

➤ Next: Hands Have No Strength Left… Well, Aren't There Still Feet?