1: Because I was afraid of pain, the system transferred the damage to me.

"Thud!"

A dull thud was accompanied by the crisp sound of shattering bones.

A thin and weak servant flew out like a tattered sack, slamming heavily into the muddy water, the blood spraying from his mouth staining the snow beneath him red.

"Next."

Steward Zhao Si of the Su Residence's outer courtyard held a redwood staff as thick as a wrist, his expression as indifferent as if he were looking at a dead pig.

"You've practiced the Iron Skin Technique for a full seven days and still can't deflect even this much force. The Su Residence raises meat shields who can take a blade for the Eldest Young Master, not useless trash who eat for free! Drag him away and throw him into the mass grave!"

The cold wind whistled, carrying the scent of blood into everyone's nostrils.

Lin Que stood in the muddy snow at the end of the line, his entire body already frozen stiff.

But at this moment, what made him more desperate than the cold was the certain-death situation before him.

He was a transmigrator.

Three days ago, he was still working overtime in modern society to pay off his mortgage. A sudden death from overwork caused his soul to transmigrate into this world called the Daqian Dynasty, becoming a low-level servant of the Su Residence who had signed a life-and-death contract.

It was hell mode right from the start—the Su Residence's Eldest Young Master was about to finish his secluded cultivation and go out for experience, and he urgently needed a group of 'human sandbags' who had mastered the Iron Skin Technique to accompany him.

Steward Zhao Si had given them seven days.

Those who succeeded would have meat to eat and clothes to wear; those who failed would end up like the one just beaten to death and thrown away.

Lin Que looked down at his thin arms, his heart filled with bitterness.

The aptitude of this body was simply disastrous. Let alone seven days, even in seven months, he wouldn't be able to develop that so-called 'Iron Skin Qi Sensation.' And Steward Zhao Si's method of inspection was even more simple and brutal: one strike of the staff; if you could endure it, you lived, and if you couldn't, you died.

Footsteps approached. It was the countdown of the Grim Reaper.

"Lin Que, it's your turn."

Steward Zhao Si walked up to him, looking down at him with undisguised disgust in his eyes.

"Looking at your fair-skinned and tender appearance, you probably haven't achieved anything. Don't waste time; get to the mass grave yourself, and you might still leave an intact corpse."

Lin Que raised his head, and in his eyes, there was no fear or begging as Steward Zhao Si had expected, but rather a dead-silent calmness.

He knew that begging for mercy was useless.

People like Steward Zhao Si, in order to embezzle that bit of compensation money, wished for their entire group to die.

Seeing the staff in Steward Zhao Si's hand already raised high, with the brain matter of the previous person still clinging to it—with Lin Que's current physique, this one blow would surely be fatal.

A moment of life and death.

Lin Que's pupils suddenly constricted, and just as the staff was about to fall, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly exploded in his mind.

[Lethal-level malicious attack detected!]

[Karma Transfer System is activating...]

[Target locked: Steward Zhao Si (Malice Value: 100%).]

[Binding successful! From this moment on, all attacks, side effects, and cultivation costs suffered by the host due to cultivation will be borne by the target; cultivation gains will be absorbed by the host at double the rate!]

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

Lin Que was slightly stunned, and then a flash of realization crossed his eyes.

Cultivation?

Transfer?

Isn't this just a cheat code!

In that case, why should I avoid his brunt?

At this moment, instead of shrinking back or begging for mercy, Lin Que took a deep breath, his feet firmly rooted to the ground as he assumed the most obscure and difficult-to-maintain defensive posture in the Iron Skin Technique—'Iron Ox Plowing the Field.'

The Iron Skin Technique was originally an external hard-style technique, and the key was to 'draw external force into the body, use heavy blows to temper the skin.'

Originally, he was still worried about having no external force to assist him and being unable to enter the threshold.

Now, wasn't this Steward Zhao Si the best 'sparring partner'?

"Hmph, still putting on an act when death is at your door?"

Steward Zhao Si saw that Lin Que actually dared to strike a defensive pose even when facing death, and the contempt in his eyes grew even stronger.

"A mere piece of trash, who are you showing off those flashy moves to? Since you want to die an ugly death, I'll grant your wish!"

Steward Zhao Si, who had originally only used seventy percent of his strength, gave a sinister laugh. With a flick of his wrist, he instantly increased the force to a full hundred percent! The staff brought with it a vicious wind as it slammed hard toward Lin Que's shoulder.

This strike was intended to crush Lin Que's shoulder blade into powder!

Lin Que didn't dodge or avoid it. At the moment the staff approached his body, he silently recited the cultivation formula and fully circulated his previously stagnant blood and qi.

'Come at me!'

Boom!!

A muffled explosion rang out, like hitting worn-out leather.

The thick redwood staff landed solidly on Lin Que's shoulder.

However, the expected sound of shattering bones did not occur. Lin Que didn't even knit his brows.

At the moment the staff touched his body, the system notifications flooded his mind:

[Powerful external strike detected!]

[Condition for Iron Skin Technique cultivation met: 'Heavy Blow Body Tempering'!]

[Judgment in effect: Damage transferred! Gains retained!]

Lin Que felt a massive surge of heat instantly spread from his shoulder to his entire body. The 'Bronze Skin Qi Sensation' that he couldn't develop no matter how hard he tried was instantly connected with the 'help' of Steward Zhao Si's full-strength blow!

His originally pale skin was instantly covered in a layer of tough green light.

Not only did it not hurt, it felt incredibly satisfying!

In contrast—

"Crack!"

A crisp sound of bone cracking rang out abruptly.

This sound didn't come from Lin Que, but from Steward Zhao Si, who was holding the staff.

"Awooo—!!!"

Steward Zhao Si, whose face was full of sinister laughter a second ago, instantly turned a deep shade of purple.

The staff in his hand flew out, and his whole body bounced back as if hit by an electric shock. He clutched his left shoulder tightly—the very spot where he had just struck Lin Que.

Intense pain!

Shattering, agonizing pain!

Steward Zhao Si felt as if an invisible giant had taken a sledgehammer and smashed his shoulder blade to pieces!

He couldn't understand what had happened at all. The massive backlash force instantly overwhelmed his nerves.

"My shoulder... it's shattered... ah!!!"

Steward Zhao Si's knees buckled from the pain, and he knelt directly in the snow. Cold sweat instantly soaked his cotton clothes, and his whole body convulsed like a cooked shrimp.

The entire scene was dead silent.

All the servants forgot to tremble, looking at this scene in dumbfounded shock.

What happened?

Clearly, Steward Zhao Si was the one who hit Lin Que with the staff. How could Lin Que stand there as if nothing happened while Steward Zhao Si ended up with a broken bone?

"You... you..."

Steward Zhao Si didn't faint; the intense pain actually made him more clear-headed.

He stared fixedly at the expressionless Lin Que, his eyes turning from contempt to extreme horror and confusion.

"What are you wearing... why... my hand..."

He wanted to crawl up and strike again, but as soon as his body moved, his shattered shoulder blade shifted again. He let out another howl, his face covered in snot and tears, looking as pathetic as a stray dog with a broken back.

A few sycophant servants finally snapped out of it and rushed forward: "Steward! Steward, what's wrong with you?!"

"Dog... you dog slaves, hurry up and..."

Steward Zhao Si trembled, unable to even say a complete sentence due to the pain.

Everyone scrambled to lift Steward Zhao Si, who was like a dead pig, and hurriedly ran toward the medical clinic. The scene was in total chaos.

No one cared about dealing with Lin Que anymore.

After all, even the steward had been mysteriously crippled. Who would dare to court such bad luck?

The cold wind continued to howl.

Lin Que stood in place and lightly moved his shoulder.

Not only was he completely unharmed, but he even felt that the skin there was a bit tougher than elsewhere.

"I've entered the threshold just like that?"

He glanced in the direction where Steward Zhao Si had disappeared, a faint, almost imperceptible curve appearing at the corner of his mouth.

"Thanks, Steward Zhao Si. Next time I practice, I'll look for you again."

"Lin Que... are, are you okay?"

Only then did the little fat boy, Er Niu, who had been dazed beside him, cautiously approach. He reached out and poked Lin Que's arm, his face looking as if he had seen a ghost.

"That strike clearly landed solidly just now. I even heard the sound!"

Er Niu swallowed hard and looked at the bloodstains Steward Zhao Si left on the ground, speaking with lingering fear.

"Backlash... this must be cultivation backlash! I heard the old Guard say that if your external cultivation isn't up to par, you can easily be hit by the rebounding force when you strike with full power! Steward Zhao Si must have done too many bad things and finally got his retribution!"

Lin Que withdrew his gaze and brushed the snowflakes off his shoulder, his expression calm as if nothing had happened.

"Yeah."

He gave a faint response, picked up the half-steamed bun that had fallen on the ground, and tucked it into his robe.

"It is indeed retribution."