Chapter 1: Desperate Escape: A Programmer's Car Crash Awakens a Millennium Seal

1:17 a.m., Outer Ring Expressway, Yun Jing City.

Rain poured down in torrents, the windshield wipers sweeping back and forth with a grating squeak. Shen Yan sat in the driver’s seat, black-framed glasses pressing against the bridge of his nose, his shirt collar askew, and his jeans smudged with dust. He had just finished a project that had kept him up for three straight days—his eyelids felt as heavy as lead, and the bitter aftertaste of instant coffee lingered in his mouth.

His phone battery showed 12%. The navigation had lagged three times, and a “signal unstable” notice had popped up on the map interface. He glanced at the blurry streetlights outside the window, thinking that if he could just hold on for another twenty minutes, he’d be back at his rented apartment and could collapse into sleep.

But the moment this thought flashed through his mind, a strange unease brushed his heart—this city was no longer the world he remembered.

Three years ago, a celestial anomaly tore open the heavens, marking the dawn of a new era as the Three Realms divided: humanity remained in the mortal realm, the Demon Clan occupied the Western Wastes, and immortals and demons hid within the Nine Heavens and the Netherworld Domain. The resurgence of Spiritual Energy swept across the globe, as old-world technology gradually faded away, replaced by Talismans, Formations, and artifact flight as the new power systems. And he, a Programmer from the old Earth, had Transmigrated into this cataclysm, trapped in this parallel world that felt both familiar and alien.

At first, he thought it was just an illusion—until he witnessed a Taoist on the street shatter an out-of-control spiritual-powered mech with a lightning Talisman, forcing him to accept reality.

But he had no Spiritual Root and couldn’t cultivate. He could only scrape by writing simulation programs, searching for patterns in the flow of Spiritual Energy within the Data Streams. While others practiced Cultivation Techniques, he wrote Code; while others refined Pills through Alchemy, he adjusted Parameters. For three years, he had survived like a fish that slipped through the net, barely clinging to life in this world reshaped by new laws.

The next second, a truck overloaded with steel lost control as it exited the ramp, its tires skidding on the slick road before crashing through the guardrail and careening sideways toward him.

Boom—!

His car was violently slammed into the central divider. Before he could react, another fierce impact struck from behind. The airbags deployed instantly, the force knocking the breath from his lungs and bringing the taste of blood to his throat. His vision began to darken, leaving only the piercing screech of twisting metal in his ears.

The fuel tank was leaking.

The smell of gasoline mixed with rainwater seeped into the cabin. Flames spread from a nearby vehicle—the one ahead had caught fire.

“It’s going to explode…” He struggled to move his hand, trying to push the car door open, but his legs felt nailed in place as his consciousness slowly sank away.

Just as his breathing was about to stop, an Image suddenly flashed in his mind—

A black background with green text, a command-line Interface resembling an old-fashioned Terminal.

【Detected Host life value below 5%, initiating emergency Protocol】

【Run emergency_heal.py? Y/N】

Shen Yan froze for a moment, then gave a bitter laugh. “Am I about to die, dreaming of an IDE?”

But driven by instinct, he typed into his consciousness: Y.

Enter.

The Program began to load, the progress bar crawling upward slowly. Yet, within seconds, the Interface flashed a red Error Reporting:

【SyntaxError: invalid syntax in line 3】

“Damn, I misspelled the Function name.” Gritting his teeth, he forced his focus and mentally typed in the Code again: “heal_module.initiate(heal_rate=0.3)”…

The System reported another error.

“Parameter type mismatch?” He gasped for breath, cold sweat streaming down his forehead. “Change to float… add exception handling… wrap it in try-except…”

His thoughts grew slower, as if writing code in a quagmire. Yet his fingers twitched unconsciously, as though typing on an invisible keyboard.

Finally, green characters scrolled across the screen:

【emergency_heal.py executed successfully】

【Establishing spiritual energy circulation… Repairing internal organ damage, stabilizing heart rate】

A warm current rose from his Dantian, flowing along his meridians toward his limbs. His broken ribs throbbed with a needle-like pain—tissues reorganizing themselves. His erratic heartbeat steadied, and his breathing regained its rhythm.

Suddenly, the car shook violently.

Flames licked at the fuel tank.

Boom—!!

The entire vehicle exploded into fragments amid the firelight, the shockwave hurling wreckage several meters away. Burning parts scattered in all directions, illuminating the entire elevated highway.

Yet at the epicenter of the explosion, a golden light burst forth from the wreckage, enveloping a human figure as it plummeted downward—

Splash!

The river water was piercingly cold.

Shen Yan sank into the water, his consciousness blurring once more. Water flooded his mouth and nose, his lungs burning with pain. He wanted to struggle but couldn’t muster the strength.

Just as he teetered on the edge of suffocation, the warm current within him erupted abruptly.

The golden light shone again, forming a thin bubble that enveloped his entire body. The bubble carried him upward slowly, passing through the dark riverbed, brushing past swaying aquatic plants, and finally settling on a shallow bank.

Splash.

Supported by the human-shaped bubble, he was gently placed on the muddy ground.

It was still raining.

Shen Yan coughed up a mouthful of river water, his fingers twitching as he slowly opened his eyes.

His glasses were still on his face, crooked, with a crack in one lens. He raised a hand to adjust them, his vision gradually clearing.

His phone was still clutched in his hand, its screen unexpectedly lit.

He looked down—soaked to the bone, clothes tattered, but the excruciating pain in his chest was gone. He tried moving his legs—they worked. He reached to touch his ribs—no sensation of fractures.

This wasn’t a dream.

On the screen, it was still that black-background, green-text Terminal Interface.

【Source Code Spiritual Root binding successful】

【Host: Shen Yan】

【Current Status: Minor Injuries (Stamina 38%)】

【Warning: You are attempting to modify Heavenly Dao.exe at your own risk】

A mechanical voice sounded in his ear, as calm as a customer service representative.

“I… survived?” he murmured.

He remembered being trapped in the car, flames already reaching the cockpit—escape had been impossible.

Yet now, not only was he alive, but his body had been repaired by some kind of power.

And this System… where did it come from?

Staring at his phone, he suddenly realized something—the code he’d written earlier wasn’t an illusion. He’d written it with his mind, and it had actually executed.

“So… I can use programming to control spells?” His voice trembled. “Does that mean Fireball Spell can be encapsulated as a function, and Sword Flight can be automated with a script?”

The thought filled him with both excitement and fear.

What do Programmers fear most? Not Bugs, but—code that actually executes.

He tried it, silently reciting in his mind: “print(Hello,World)”.

The phone screen flashed:

【Output: Spiritual Energy Fluctuation +0.01】

【Suggestion: Do not abuse basic Commands; resource consumption will affect subsequent spellcasting efficiency】

“…There’s really feedback?” He widened his eyes.

The distant city lights were hazy, the rain gradually easing. He sat in the mud, soaked and chilled, yet felt a warm current circulating within his body.

This shouldn’t be happening in reality.

But it was.

He took a deep breath, pushed himself up from the ground. His knees were still weak, but he could walk.

His phone was clutched tightly in his hand, like the only tangible thing he could hold onto.

He looked around—this was the riverside on the outskirts of the city, overgrown with weeds. In the distance, the faint outline of a collapsed stone wall stood like the remains of an abandoned structure.

He didn’t know what that place was, but his instincts told him to go there.

Perhaps there were answers.

Perhaps… this was only the beginning.

He stumbled forward, his first step sinking into the damp, muddy ground.

“Let’s start by running a health monitoring app…” he thought as he walked, mentally sketching out the Code Structure. “Let’s name it health_scan.py.”

Just as he finished the first line, the System’s Notification Tone sounded again:

【Detected abnormal Spiritual Energy residue in the vicinity. Coordinates locked: 600 meters northeast, suspected remnants of an ancient Formation.】

Shen Yan paused mid-step.

“A Formation? It can scan something like that?”

He cracked a faint smile, his face still pale, but a glimmer of light flashed in his eyes.

“Interesting.”

He continued walking, muttering to himself, “If I could decompile the Formation… maybe I could save some Mental Power.”

Before he finished speaking, his phone suddenly vibrated.

【New task triggered: Analyze the remnants of the abandoned Taoist temple’s Formation.】

【Reward: Primary Spiritual Energy conversion efficiency increased by 10%.】

【Notice: Danger ahead. Do not manually modify core Parameters.】

Shen Yan smirked. “Since when have I been afraid of danger?”

“Besides… isn’t this just a Programmer’s fate?”

“Endless bugs to fix, endless demands to meet, and now I have to save my own life.”

He tightened his grip on the phone and headed toward the ruins.

The rain had stopped.

A night breeze swept across the river, rustling his soaked plaid shirt.

And in a place he couldn’t see, the Code on his phone’s Screen quietly updated with a new line:

【Hidden Module loading… Celestial Clan Archives. Unlocked.】

(End of Chapter)