Cultivation System: Rise of the First Patriarch

Golden waves of rice swayed beneath the gentle afternoon wind, stretching endlessly beneath the vast blue sky like an ocean of gold. The scent of fresh earth lingered in the air while the cries of birds echoed from distant trees surrounding the village.

Under the blazing sun, a young boy carrying a bundle of harvested rice across his shoulders wiped the sweat from his forehead before revealing a carefree smile. Though his clothes were plain and slightly worn, his dark eyes carried a calmness far beyond his age.

“What a good day…” the twelve-year-old boy muttered while gazing at the peaceful fields before him.

Suddenly, a loud voice thundered across the farmland.

“Zan Yunxiao! Are you slacking off again?!”

The shout startled nearby birds into the air. Zan Yunxiao immediately turned around and saw an old man walking toward him with a wooden cane in his hand. His back was slightly bent from age, but his sharp eyes remained fierce enough to intimidate anyone in the village.

“I’m not!” Zan Yunxiao quickly replied with an innocent expression.

The old man narrowed his eyes suspiciously before snorting coldly. “Good. If I ever catch you being lazy again, you know what will happen.”

After leaving behind the warning, the old man turned around and continued inspecting the fields nearby.

Watching the old man leave, Zan Yunxiao maintained his obedient smile for a few moments before the corners of his lips slowly rose into excitement. His heartbeat quickened, and his eyes shone brightly as if suppressing unimaginable joy.

“At last…” he thought inwardly.

A mechanical voice suddenly echoed inside his mind.

[Ding!]

[The Eternal Ancestor System has successfully bound to its host.]

For a brief moment, the world around him seemed to freeze.

Zan Yunxiao’s pupils trembled.

After twelve long years… it finally arrived.

Zan Yunxiao’s consciousness trembled the moment the system’s voice echoed within him. For an instant, memories buried deep within his soul stirred, he was not native to this world. Once, he had been a man from Earth, though the memory of his death was already blurred by the passage of time.

When he opened his eyes again, he had become a newborn in this vast cultivation realm, abandoned by parents, until the old man from the rice fields took him in and raised him.

Twelve years had passed like flowing water beneath the mortal sun. Twelve years of hardship, of tilling soil and enduring scolding beneath the heavens. And throughout all of it, he had been waiting for the fate every transmigrator was promised.

Now, at last, it had arrived.

A faint light flickered in his eyes as he sank his consciousness inward.

“So this is the Eternal Ancestor System…” Zan Yunxiao murmured inwardly, his voice carrying a trace of awe. “Such a name… it looks profound.”

A moment of silence followed.

Then, the system responded cold, mechanical, without the slightest trace of emotion.

[System initialization incomplete.]

[Host does not meet the required conditions.]

[Function temporarily sealed.]

Zan Yunxiao’s expression stiffened.

The anticipation that had just begun to bloom within his heart was instantly frozen, as though an invisible hand had extinguished a rising flame. His fingers tightened slightly, and a faint trace of frustration surfaced in his eyes.

“What do you mean… not available?” he said aloud this time, his voice low but edged with disbelief. “I have waited twelve years beneath these heavens for this destiny…”

Zan Yunxiao stood silently in the middle of the rice fields, the wind brushing against the golden stalks around him, yet his mind was no longer at peace.

The system’s earlier response lingered like a locked gate before a treasure he could not yet touch. He tried again, sinking his consciousness inward, carefully focusing his thoughts as though speaking to something deep within his soul.

“System?”

No response.

A faint pause passed in his mind, like an endless void that refused to answer.

Zan Yunxiao frowned slightly.

“System… are you there?”

Still silence.

The fields around him remained calm, the distant sound of insects filling the air, but within him, anticipation slowly turned into irritation. He tried once more, his mental voice growing firmer.

“Eternal Ancestor System, respond.”

Nothing.

A faint vein seemed to twitch on Zan Yunxiao’s forehead as disbelief crept in. He had waited twelve years for this moment, and now that it had finally arrived, it was acting like it had died on him.

“Hey… don’t tell me you’re just some broken illusion,” he muttered inwardly, his patience thinning. “You finally appear after twelve years and now you go silent?”

Still no answer.

His frustration slowly built like a pressure cooker with no release. He tried again and again, calling the system in different ways, his thoughts growing louder, more forceful, even slightly angry but the same dead silence greeted him every time.

After what felt like countless attempts, Zan Yunxiao finally stopped.

The anger faded, replaced by a long, tired exhale in his heart.

He looked up at the endless sky above the rice fields, then lowered his gaze slightly.

“…Forget it,” he thought with a hint of resignation. “If it’s not responding, then I’ll just figure it out myself.”

The excitement from earlier had not disappeared completely, but it had been buried beneath layers of confusion and impatience. For now, Zan Yunxiao chose silence, letting the wind carry away his unanswered calls as he stood alone among the golden fields.

...

Three months had passed since the system’s first awakening, yet nothing had changed.

No prompt, no mission, no hidden notification only a cold silence buried deep within Zan Yunxiao’s consciousness, as though it had never existed at all.

During this time, he had tried everything he could think of: meditation, concentration, even deliberately provoking it with curses and desperate calls, but the result remained the same absolute silence.

Now, beneath the same endless rice fields bathed in the afternoon sun, Zan Yunxiao stood alone once again, his hands loosely hanging by his sides as he muttered under his breath with growing irritation.

“Trash system…” he murmured, his voice low and repetitive, as if saying it enough times might finally force a reaction. “Really just a useless trash system…”

The wind swept gently through the fields, carrying his words away without response. His expression darkened slightly, but he did not stop.

Over these three months, frustration had slowly replaced his initial excitement, and yet he still refused to fully give up.

Every so often, he would attempt another method, refining his thoughts, focusing his spiritual awareness, even trying random phrases from his past life knowledge, but the system remained as silent as a dead void.

Before he could continue his muttering, a soft voice suddenly entered his ears from behind.

“Yunxiao, what are you doing? Grandpa is calling you right now.”

Zan Yunxiao paused for a moment but did not immediately respond, still half-lost in his thoughts as his lips moved faintly.

A second later, the voice turned sharper. A young woman stood a short distance away, her expression slightly helpless as she raised her voice.

“Yunxiao! Grandpa is calling you!”

Only then did Zan Yunxiao finally come back to his senses. He blinked once, the haze of frustration clearing from his eyes as he turned around.

“Oh, Xueyun, you’re here,” he said casually, as if nothing had just happened.

The young woman Xueyun let out a small sigh before shaking her head.

“Grandpa is calling you,” she repeated again, this time more calmly.

Zan Yunxiao nodded slightly, his earlier muttering already fading from his tone.

“Got it,” he replied simply.

Then, without further delay, he turned and began walking toward the direction of the village, leaving behind the endless golden fields and the unanswered silence buried within his mind.

Zan Yunxiao returned to the wooden house as the evening light slowly dimmed over the rice fields, casting long shadows across the familiar path. Inside, the old man was already seated at the table, waiting quietly with a calm but serious expression. The creaking sound of the door opening made him lift his gaze.

“Sit,” the old man said after noticing both Zan Yunxiao and Xueyun had arrived. His tone was unusually solemn. “I have something to say.”

Zan Yunxiao and Xueyun exchanged a brief glance before taking their seats across from him. The atmosphere inside the house grew quiet, heavy with expectation.

The old man folded his hands on the table and spoke slowly, each word carrying weight.

“Tomorrow, immortals will descend upon this village. They will select those with talent and bring them into their sects for cultivation.” He paused slightly, his eyes narrowing. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Whether one rises to the heavens or remains a mortal… will depend on tomorrow.”

The moment those words fell, both Zan Yunxiao and Xueyun froze for a brief instant.

Then, almost simultaneously, shock and excitement appeared on their faces.

Zan Yunxiao’s heart, in particular, began to pound violently. After years of waiting in silence, after the long disappointment of a dormant system, this opportunity felt like a door finally opening before him.

Immortal cultivation…

His lips slowly curved upward as excitement replaced all hesitation. In his mind, a single thought echoed repeatedly.

With this opportunity… I will become an immortal.

A faint laugh escaped him unconsciously, filled with anticipation and long-suppressed ambition.

The next day arrived faster than expected.

Zan Yunxiao sat quietly in a wooden chair outside the house, his head slightly lowered, his expression far less bright than before. The excitement from yesterday had already been crushed by reality.

He murmured to himself in a low voice.

“No spiritual root… I have no spiritual root…”

He repeated it again, as if trying to convince himself it was still untrue.

“No spiritual root…”

Earlier that day, when the immortals had arrived, tests were conducted one by one. In the end, Zan Yunxiao was rejected without hesitation. Xueyun had also been turned away, both of them deemed unfit for cultivation.

The dream that had burned so brightly only yesterday had been extinguished in an instant.

Not far away, the old man stood watching silently. After a long sigh, he finally walked toward Zan Yunxiao.

“Yunxiao,” he said quietly.

Zan Yunxiao lifted his head slightly. “What is it, Gramps?”

The old man hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his voice heavier than before.

“Don’t be dejected… from now on, you should inherit my land.” He paused, then added something even more unexpected. “And marry my granddaughter.”

For a moment, silence filled the air.

Zan Yunxiao blinked once, completely caught off guard.

“W-What?” he blurted out. “Why are you suddenly arranging your granddaughter like this, Gramps?”

The old man let out another slow sigh, his eyes looking far more distant now.

“My time is coming to an end,” he said calmly. “You are the only one I trust to take care of everything I leave behind. And… Xueyun also likes you.”

That final sentence made Zan Yunxiao freeze.

He turned slightly toward Xueyun, who was standing not far away. She immediately averted her gaze, her ears faintly red, pretending not to hear anything.

Zan Yunxiao fell silent.

In his heart, frustration, resignation, and helplessness mixed together. Rejected by immortals… abandoned by his so-called system that still never responded… and now suddenly given a future he never expected.

After a long pause, he finally exhaled.

“…Fine,” he said quietly.

...

In the blink of an eye, six years quietly slipped past like flowing water beneath the mortal sun.

Zan Yunxiao and Xueyun were no longer children of the rice fields. Time had shaped them into husband and wife, living peacefully upon the land that the old man had entrusted to them before his passing.

What once was a simple village inheritance had become their home, their world, and the quiet foundation of their lives.

The ambition that once burned fiercely in Zan Yunxiao’s heart of soaring through the heavens as an immortal had gradually been buried beneath the weight of daily life, softened by warmth he never expected to find.

Another year passed.

Xueyun became pregnant.

When Zan Yunxiao first learned of it, he stood frozen for a long moment before a wide, almost foolish smile spread across his face.

The thoughts of cultivation, system, and immortality faded into the background like distant clouds. In that moment, all that remained in his heart was simple joy.

Nine months passed again.

The wooden house echoed with tense sounds of pain and labor as Xueyun lay inside the room giving birth.

Her strained voice occasionally broke through the walls, while Zan Yunxiao stood outside, pacing back and forth with anxious steps, his fists clenched and his breathing unsteady.

For the first time in his life, he felt truly helpless far more than when he was rejected by the immortals, far more than when the system remained silent.

Time felt unbearably slow.

Finally, the door creaked open.

A middle-aged woman stepped out, wiping sweat from her forehead as she looked at him with a faint smile.

“Zan Yunxiao,” she said gently, “congratulations. You have a son.”

For a brief moment, Zan Yunxiao’s mind went completely blank.

Then, like a dam breaking, overwhelming joy flooded his entire being.

Without hesitation, he rushed into the room.

Inside, Xueyun lay weak but smiling on the bed. When she saw him, her eyes softened.

Zan Yunxiao stepped forward and carefully held her hand, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you… my love,” he whispered sincerely. “For giving birth to our son.”

Xueyun gave a faint smile, her gaze shifting toward the small bundle beside her.

“Look at him,” she said softly. “He really looks just like you, my husband.”

Zan Yunxiao chuckled lightly, his earlier tension completely gone.

“Yeah…” he replied, smiling warmly as he looked at the child. “He does look like me.”

Xueyun gently urged him forward.

“Come here… let your father hold you.”

Zan Yunxiao hesitated for a moment. Even though he had faced fields, labor, rejection, and hardship, holding something so fragile still made him nervous. Carefully, awkwardly, he reached out and took his son into his arms.

For a moment, he simply stared.

The tiny life in his arms felt heavier than anything he had ever carried, not in weight, but in meaning.

Then—

A cold, mechanical voice suddenly echoed within his mind.

[Ding!]

[Host has successfully met the required conditions.]

[The Eternal Ancestor System is now fully activated.]

[System functions have been unlocked.]

Zan Yunxiao’s entire body froze.

His eyes widened slightly as disbelief and shock washed over him.

Now…? After all this time?

Just as he stood there holding his newborn son, the system that had been silent for years finally awakened.