Li Ming woke before dawn arrived.
Not naturally—he froze awake. The trip to the back mountain had left him drenched in sweat, clothes plastered to his skin, icy against his body. Night wind hit him like falling into a freezer, teeth chattering. Back in his room, he hadn't even changed, just collapsed onto the bed, mind racing too fast for sleep.
Transmigrator. Guide. Earth-bound spirit. Player 1.
These words echoed in his mind like an infinite loop he couldn't escape. Each repetition dragged his heart lower.
"Old Zhou said dawn..."
Li Ming sat up, rubbing his throbbing temples. His eyes felt dry—too little sleep. He looked out the window. The sky was just beginning to lighten, dawn-gray. The eastern horizon showed a hint of fish-belly white, pale blue like it had been washed clean. Distant rooster calls broke the silence, one after another.
He stood, preparing to leave.
Then he stopped.
Beneath his door lay a slip of paper. White, conspicuous in the dim room.
Not last night's "Hello World"—a new one.
Li Ming walked over, bending to pick it up. The paper was thin, bearing only one line, handwriting messy like it was written in haste, each stroke trembling:
"Don't trust Old Zhou. He's a 'Cleaner.'"
No signature, no time, the handwriting different from last night's. That one had been neat like printing; this one... like a child's scrawl, crooked.
Li Ming held the note, palm sweating so much the paper grew damp.
Don't trust Old Zhou?
Then that old man claiming to be a transmigrator last night... who was he? If he was a Cleaner, why save him? Why give him a booklet?
What was a "Cleaner" anyway? Cleaning up failed players' bodies? Or... cleaning up people who knew the truth?
He drew a deep breath, tucking both notes into his robes against his chest. Two papers stacked together, their presence felt even through cloth.
Then he pushed open the door and stepped out.
Outside, day had broken. The outer sect district was coming alive with voices. Distant sword practice sounds—whoosh whoosh whoosh—blade energy cutting air. Birdsong chirping. Everything looked normal, but Li Ming knew something had changed—beneath these ordinary scenes hid things he couldn't see.
He walked toward the back mountain, mind turning over that note.
If Old Zhou couldn't be trusted, should he still go to last night's meeting? But then—if the note-writer was truly the "Guide," why not just tell him what to do? Why this ambiguous method? Making him guess, making him take risks?
Unless...
"Unless both sides want to use me."
Li Ming stopped, leaning against a roadside tree. Thick enough to need two people to encircle, bark covered in moss, cool to the touch.
One side was Old Zhou, claiming to be a transmigrator, offering to be his Guide, giving him a booklet, teaching him how to survive.
The other side was the mysterious person, warning him not to trust Old Zhou, saying Old Zhou was a "Cleaner."
Both knew he was a transmigrator. Both knew he could see code.
"Then what am I?" Li Ming laughed bitterly. "A chess piece? Or... a test subject?"
He found no answer to this question.
He drew a deep breath and continued walking. The path changed from stone slabs to dirt to overgrown wild trails. Grass along the roadside held dew, soaking his shoes.
Whoever they were, he had to meet Old Zhou. Only by meeting him could he ask—what was a Cleaner, what was the Game, what did Player 1 mean.
When he reached last night's clearing, Old Zhou was already there.
Same gray robes, washed pale, patched in places. Same wooden staff, glowing stone at the head emitting pale blue light. The old man sat on the ground, a small fire burning before him, roasting something.
The fire wasn't large but burned vigorously, crackling and popping. The air carried an enticing aroma.
"Here?" Old Zhou didn't look up, holding a branch and prodding the fire. "Sit."
Li Ming didn't sit. He stood watching him: "You said yesterday you had something to give me."
"What's the rush." Old Zhou pulled two roasted sweet potatoes from the fire, handing him one. "Eat first. Back mountain's cold; you need something to withstand it."
Li Ming hesitated, then took the potato. Hot, skin charred black, inside soft and fragrant—that particular sweetness only roasted sweet potatoes had, making his mouth water.
"Not afraid I'll poison you?" Old Zhou smiled, something playful in the expression.
"Afraid." Li Ming said. "But I'm more afraid of missing something."
"Smart." Old Zhou nodded. "Sometimes taking risks beats hiding. People without guts don't survive in this world."
They ate in silence. Li Ming observed Old Zhou while eating—the old man looked ordinary, just an ordinary old man, face lined with wrinkles, white hair messy, hands spotted with age. But if he was truly a transmigrator...
"How did you..." Li Ming began, but only got halfway.
"How did I get here?" Old Zhou interrupted, speaking like it was the most ordinary thing. "Same as you. Coding late at night, darkness, woke up in this damned place."
"How long have you been here?"
"Ten years." Old Zhou said, biting into his potato. "Ten years exactly. Three thousand six hundred fifty days."
Li Ming's heart shook, nearly biting his tongue.
Ten years? Then that meant...
"Were you also 'Player 1'?"
Old Zhou's hand paused. The potato fell to the ground, rolling into the fire with a sizzling sound.
"You..." Old Zhou suddenly looked up, staring at Li Ming, eyes wide. "You saw those words?"
"After I left last night, black qi emerged from the earth vein crack, forming 'Welcome to the game, Player 1.'" Li Ming stared at him, speaking each word clearly. "So this game... has more than one player?"
Old Zhou was silent a long time. He stared at the fire, flames dancing across his face, reflecting complex expressions—shock, resignation, and a trace of... acceptance?
Finally, he let out a long sigh.
"You think transmigration is random?"
"Isn't it?"
"If it were random, why would there be a 'system'?" Old Zhou looked at him. "Why would there be a 'Guide'? Why would there be 'Cleaners'? Why... would someone know you can see code?"
Li Ming's heart jumped—thump thump thump.
"What are Cleaners...?"
"Things that clean up failed players." Old Zhou said, voice soft. "Every transmigrator meets a Guide. But some Guides, along the way... change. They give up, surrender, start helping the 'Game' clean up other players."
"Clean up... how?"
"Kill them." Old Zhou said. "Or, turn them into new Cleaners."
Ice ran down Li Ming's back, like cold water flowing down his spine.
"So when you said you were a Guide..."
"I'm real." Old Zhou said, tone certain. "But someone told you I'm a Cleaner, right?"
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Li Ming said nothing, but his expression said everything.
Old Zhou smiled, bitterness mixed with... mockery? "Normal. I encountered the same thing back then. Someone warned me not to trust my Guide, said he was a Cleaner. Later I learned... it was a Cleaner impersonating me."
"What do you mean?"
"Cleaners can disguise themselves as anyone." Old Zhou said. "Including Guides, including other transmigrators, even including... yourself."
Li Ming's heart shuddered.
"Then how do you tell them apart?"
"There's one way." Old Zhou stood, picking up his staff, the stone at its head flashing pale blue. "Look at the code."
"What?"
"Cleaners are part of the 'Game.' Their code... is complete." Old Zhou said. "We transmigrators have bugs in our code. Because we're 'outsiders,' this world's rules don't apply to us. Like running a Windows program on a Mac—something will definitely go wrong."
Li Ming froze.
He remembered last night's earth vein code, that line "status = CRITICAL." And the empty function in the *Foundation Qi Circulation Technique*, that comment "there's a bug here."
"So..."
"So you have two choices now." Old Zhou looked at him, expression serious. "First, come with me. I'll teach you how to survive in this world, how to find other transmigrators, how to... clear this game. Second, go back, pretend nothing happened, keep being an outer disciple, wait for the day a Cleaner comes for you."
"Clear... what does that mean?"
"Leave this world." Old Zhou said. "Return to your original world. Or... go to a better world."
Li Ming fell silent.
Return?
Could he really return? Return to that world of overtime, hair loss, and minimal savings?
"I need time to consider." he said.
"Fine." Old Zhou nodded. "But you don't have much. Cleaners have already noticed you. Last night's earth-bound spirit incident... was a test."
"A test of what?"
"Testing your abilities." Old Zhou said. "You can see code, can fix bugs, right? That's exactly the kind of person Cleaners most want to kill."
Li Ming's heart tightened: "How do you know?"
"Because I can see." Old Zhou pointed to his eyes, a flash of pale blue light passing through them. "My system version is higher than yours. Code Cultivation System v0.3.2. You're v0.1.0-alpha, right?"
Li Ming's eyes went wide, mouth forming an O.
"Don't be surprised." Old Zhou smiled. "Every transmigrator has a different system version. Higher version means you can see more. But higher version... also means higher chance of being found by Cleaners. Because your bug characteristics become more obvious."
"Then why are you..."
"Why still alive?" Old Zhou finished. "Because I learned to hide. I spent three years learning how to 'disguise' my code as native. You?"
Li Ming shook his head: "I... just arrived three days ago."
"Then you need to learn fast." Old Zhou pulled a small booklet from his robes, handing it over. "This is *Introduction to Code Disguise*, I wrote it back then. Take it back and study. Three days later, same time, same place. Tell me your decision."
Li Ming took the booklet—thin, maybe a dozen pages. The cover was handwritten, neat script, clearly Old Zhou's writing.
"One more thing." Old Zhou said. "Qingyun Sect's techniques have more than one bug. You only fixed the most basic. Higher level techniques have more bugs. But... some bugs cannot be fixed."
"Why?"
"Because those bugs are 'locks.'" Old Zhou said. "Locking certain... things that shouldn't be released. Fix them, and something bad happens."
Li Ming gripped the booklet: "What things?"
"You'll know when the time comes." Old Zhou turned to leave. "Remember, three days. Don't be late."
"Wait!" Li Ming called out. "One last question—how do you prove you're not a Cleaner?"
Old Zhou stopped, back to him, silent several seconds. Wind rustled through the trees, leaves whispering.
"I can't prove it."
"Then..."
"You can only gamble." Old Zhou said, looking back at him, eyes carrying resignation. "Gamble that I'm real, gamble that I can help you, gamble... that this game can still be cleared."
Then he vanished into the trees, walking fast, quickly out of sight.
Li Ming stood there, clutching the booklet, mind a tangled mess.
Gamble?
What did he have to gamble with? His life? This body that had just transmigrated, not even touching Qi Refinement Layer One?
"Damn."
Li Ming cursed, turning toward the outer sect district.
As soon as he left the trees, he felt someone watching him.
Not Wang Hu, not Chen Feng, not Zhao Kun. This gaze... more concealed, more cold, like seeping from underground, carrying decay and death.
Li Ming didn't look back, kept walking.
But he could feel that gaze following him, like an invisible thread tied to him, pulling him, tracking him.
Until he returned to the outer sect district, passed through the disciples' wooden huts, reached his own room door—the gaze finally vanished.
Back in his room, Li Ming shut the door, pulled the curtains, then opened the *Introduction to Code Disguise*.
The first page held only one line, neat handwriting with an old-fashioned flavor:
"To hide yourself, first learn to become someone else."
Li Ming frowned, continuing to read.
The second page began specific methods—how to modify your own "code characteristics," how to simulate native spiritual energy fluctuations, how to hide system notifications, how to...
"This is basically a hacker tutorial." Li Ming laughed bitterly.
He spent an hour reading through the booklet. Not much content, but information-dense. The core concept was simple—transmigrators had "characteristics" in their code, Cleaners could identify transmigrators through these characteristics. So to hide, you had to modify the characteristics, disguise yourself as a native.
"But how to modify?"
Li Ming closed his eyes, trying to call up the code view to see his own "code."
System notification: [Function Available]
The air before him rippled like disturbed water. He saw... himself?
```
[Li_Ming_Status.py]
def spiritual_core():
energy_level = 10
stability = 0.7
anomaly_detected = True # anomaly detection: YES
crosser_signature = "v0.1.0-alpha" # transmigrator signature
```
"anomaly_detected = True..."
Li Ming stared at that line, a thought emerging.
If he changed this line to False...
"Would Cleaners find me?"
He hesitated.
Old Zhou said some bugs couldn't be fixed because they were "locks." Was this anomaly_detected a bug or a lock? What would happen if he fixed it? Would he become safer, or attract bigger trouble?
"Gamble."
Li Ming drew a deep breath, concentrating, beginning to modify the code.
anomaly_detected = True → anomaly_detected = False
The moment the code modification completed, he felt something in his body... disconnect?
Like some connection had been severed. Strange, like someone unplugged the power, the whole world suddenly going quiet.
[Ding! Host detected modifying core status]
[Warning: Disguise activated, Cleaner detection difficulty +50%]
[Side effect: System function limited 30%]
"Side effects..."
Li Ming laughed bitterly. "Sure enough, no free lunch. What does 30% function limit mean? Slower code view? Or lower success rate for bug fixes?"
But he had no time to dwell on it. Because the moment the disguise activated, he felt—
Outside his door, someone.
Not one person. Several.
Footsteps were light, but Li Ming heard them. They were surrounding his room, footsteps circling once, then stopping at his door.
"Li Ming, open up."
A voice came—Chen Feng. Tone flat, no emotion, like discussing something ordinary.
Li Ming's heart tightened. He hid the booklet under his blankets, drew a deep breath, and opened the door.
Five people stood outside.
Chen Feng in front, arms crossed, expression bland. Behind him were Zhao Kun, Wang Hu, and two unfamiliar outer disciples, all looking fierce.
"Something you need?" Li Ming asked, keeping his voice steady.
"Something." Chen Feng said blandly. "Last night's back mountain incident, Law Enforcement Hall is investigating. Someone saw you heading that way."
"So?"
"So you need an explanation." Chen Feng looked at him. "Or... a scapegoat."
Li Ming's heart sank like a stone dropping into his stomach.
"Wang Hu says you didn't go." Chen Feng continued. "But Zhao Kun says he saw. Two people, two stories. Which one do Law Enforcement Hall prefer to hear?"
Li Ming looked at Wang Hu.
Wang Hu kept his head down, not meeting his eyes. His body trembled slightly, like he was terrified.
"So..." Li Ming said. "You want me to take the fall?"
"Not taking the fall." Chen Feng smiled, something playful in the expression. "Cooperation. You do something for us, we handle Law Enforcement Hall for you. Fair trade."
"What thing?"
"Simple." Chen Feng said. "The library matter—decided yet?"
Li Ming fell silent.
He understood. Chen Feng wasn't here to investigate—he was here to force a decision. Last night at the library, Chen Feng had asked him to bring things, giving three days to consider. But now, before time was up, he was forcing his hand.
"Three days isn't up yet." he said.
"But Law Enforcement Hall won't wait." Chen Feng said. "Before midnight tonight, give me your answer. Otherwise..." He paused, looking at Wang Hu. "Wang Hu will be the witness."
Wang Hu's trembling grew worse.
Li Ming looked at Chen Feng, then at Wang Hu, finally at Zhao Kun.
Zhao Kun avoided his gaze, whistling, watching the show like it had nothing to do with him.
"I understand." Li Ming said.
"Smart." Chen Feng patted his shoulder. "Midnight tonight, library entrance. Don't be late. Remember, no tricks. My people... are watching you."
Then they left, quickly vanishing into the morning mist.
Li Ming closed the door, leaning against it, exhaling slowly. His heart still raced—thump thump thump.
Chen Feng forcing his decision.
Old Zhou waiting for his answer.
Cleaners watching from the shadows.
And that mysterious "Game," that "Game" with who-knew-how-many players...
"This opening..." Li Ming laughed bitterly. "Quite exciting indeed."
He walked to the bed, sat down, closed his eyes.
The system interface appeared before him, cultivation showing: Mortal 10/100. Ninety points short of Qi Refinement Layer One.
"Want to survive, want to not be a chess piece..."
Li Ming clenched his fist, nails digging into flesh, slightly painful.
"Then I have to get stronger."
He concentrated, beginning to circulate the *Foundation Qi Circulation Technique*—already his fixed version.
Spiritual power flowed through his meridians, much smoother than before. That blocked feeling had vanished, replaced by fluidity, like water through pipes, unobstructed.
But each time he completed a cycle, he felt... some resistance?
Very slight, but definitely there. Like someone was pulling, preventing his cultivation, preventing his progress.
"What bug is this now?"
Li Ming called up the code view, wanting to see the technique's code.
But this time, he didn't see the technique—he saw... the whole room's code?
```
[Room_Spiritual_Array.py]
def suppression_field():
# spiritual energy suppression field
status = "ACTIVE"
target = "Li_Ming"
purpose = "PREVENT_BREAKTHROUGH"
strength = 50 # suppression strength: 50%
```
"Spiritual suppression field?"
Li Ming's eyes went wide.
"Someone... is preventing my breakthrough?"
He looked around. The room was the same room—broken bed, broken table, broken wardrobe. The same random scratches on the walls, the same thick dust on the floor.
But code didn't lie—this room contained an array specifically suppressing his cultivation. And this array was targeting "Li_Ming"?
"When was this set up?"
Li Ming walked to the wall, examining carefully. Those seemingly random scratches on the walls—looking closely... were array runes?
Each scratch was thin, invisible unless you looked carefully. But connected together, they formed a complete array. The runes were carved with something sharp, cut deep, like they wanted to carve into the wood itself.
"Damn."
He cursed, voice echoing in the cramped room.
From transmigration until now, every step had been calculated. Techniques with bugs, rooms with arrays, Old Zhou's unclear identity, Chen Feng's relentless pressure, Cleaners watching from the shadows...
"What kind of hell opening is this?"
Li Ming clenched his fist, nails digging into flesh, palm bleeding.
But he didn't panic.
Nine years of coding in his previous life—he'd seen more complex bugs than this. Memory leaks, deadlocks, concurrency issues, circular dependencies, cross-platform compatibility problems... which one wasn't harder than this? Which one didn't keep him up countless nights to solve?
"Since there's an array, then..."
Li Ming closed his eyes, beginning to parse the array's code.
He had to understand how this array worked, where its "bug" was, whether he could...
"Debug it."
