Xu Liang woke to the sound of rustling parchment.
This, in itself, was alarming.
Because Xu Liang had never once, in his entire miserable career, voluntarily slept in a pile of paperwork.
The unmistakable scent of aged bamboo scrolls and ink filled the air. He blinked blearily, vision adjusting to his surroundings—a grand hall lined with towering shelves, each packed with immaculate, unopened documents. Spirit lanterns hovered above, casting a soft glow that made the space feel eerily majestic.
A bureaucratic archive.
A very cursed bureaucratic archive.
Xu Liang sat up slowly. His body felt… strange. Lighter, but charged, as if something deep within him had unlocked.
This wasn't his apartment. This wasn't his office. This wasn't even his own world.
And lying across his lap—mocking him with its ornate lettering and oppressive crimson seals—was a scroll.
---
"Congratulations! You have been assigned to the Cultivation Administration Bureau. Your official employment begins immediately. Report to the Jade Pavilion Records Department. Failure to comply may result in qi deprivation penalties."
---
Xu Liang dragged a hand down his face.
If he had a spirit stone for every contract he'd been forced to sign under highly questionable conditions, he could've retired years ago.
Corporate life had prepared him for a lot—long meetings, unbearable deadlines, passive-aggressive emails—but it had never prepared him for involuntary employment in an immortal bureaucracy.
Still, years of navigating corporate nonsense had trained him well. The first rule of surviving workplace disasters: don't panic.
The second rule: gather information before signing away your soul.
Xu Liang carefully rolled up the scroll, tucking it into his sleeve as he pushed himself to his feet.
The moment he stood, a voice rang out.
"Ah-ha! He's awake! Wonderful! Welcome, esteemed bureaucrat!"
Xu Liang turned to find a very enthusiastic cultivator barreling toward him.
The man, dressed in deep blue ceremonial robes, radiated the energy of someone who thrived on unnecessary meetings. His embroidered sleeves swayed dramatically as he moved, and his expression was far too happy for what was clearly a government office.
"You must be the new recruit!" the man continued, clasping his hands together. "I was worried you wouldn't wake in time! We've been desperately understaffed ever since Elder Tian accidentally cursed the documentation department. But you're here now, so the heavens have clearly blessed us!"
Xu Liang stared.
"…What?"
"Oh, don't worry! The curse is mostly lifted! Only half the files spontaneously combust now!"
Xu Liang continued to stare.
"Ah! Apologies! You must be very confused!" The man clapped his hands again. "Welcome to the Cultivation Administration Bureau—the heart of all sect matters! We handle grievances, registrations, celestial disputes, spirit stone taxation—truly a noble profession!"
Xu Liang's soul left his body.
Bureaucracy.
He had escaped his corporate hell, only to land in another office job—except this one involved immortal cultivators.
Fantastic.
Still, years of experience had trained him to remain neutral during workplace disasters.
"So," Xu Liang said slowly, "what is my exact role?"
"Ah! You'll be working under the Sect Affairs Bureau!" the man beamed. "Handling property claims, inheritance disputes, and all cultivation-related complaints! Your first case has already arrived!"
The cultivator pulled out a glowing jade token, holding it out.
Xu Liang did not take it immediately.
Years in the corporate world taught him that anything handed to you meant work.
After a long, suspicious pause, he finally accepted the jade token, scanning the text.
---
Complaint Report:
Sect Elder Wen of the Azure Peak Sect reports the mysterious theft of his celestial furnace. Requested compensation: 30,000 high-grade spirit stones. Investigate claim validity.
---
Xu Liang inhaled very slowly.
Even in his past life, he had managed fraudulent insurance claims, questionable tax reports, and HR complaints about missing office supplies—but this was next-level nonsense.
A celestial furnace, stolen?
From a sealed chamber, protected by three layers of soul-bound formations?
Impossible.
Either Elder Wen was lying, or someone ridiculously powerful had stolen it.
Years of surviving corporate deception kicked in.
Xu Liang calmly asked, "Does the Cultivation Administration Bureau have an official fraud investigation department?"
The cheerful cultivator blinked.
"Oh! We did—but the last investigator angered too many Immortal Kings, so we… disbanded it." He coughed. "Most fraud claims are resolved through negotiation or… direct combat."
Xu Liang blinked slowly.
"So you're saying duels settle disputes instead of evidence?"
The man beamed. "Exactly! If an elder is unsatisfied with the ruling, they can challenge the case reviewer to a fight!"
Xu Liang thought about quitting immediately.
Unfortunately, he didn't know where the exit was.
And somehow, he doubted resignation letters were accepted here.
Resigned to his fate, he sighed and tucked the jade token into his robes.
First day on the job, and he was already dealing with fraud.
---
Cultivation Bureaucracy Rule #1:
Office hours were entirely meaningless.
Sect elders had no concept of patience, and cultivators did not believe in waiting.
---
The first visitor arrived before Xu Liang even reached his desk.
A panicked outer disciple from Azure Peak Sect stumbled inside, clutching two conflicting paperwork requests—one demanding immediate reimbursement, the other threatening sect-wide vengeance if compensation wasn't approved.
Xu Liang scanned both scrolls, lips pressing into a thin line.
Two different forms. Two different requests. From the same sect.
Corporate bullshit. But cultivation-style.
Years of office survival instincts flared.
Xu Liang carefully stamped both forms—one marked Pending Investigation, the other Fraudulent Filing Under Review.
The disciple froze.
"But—our sect elder—he—"
Xu Liang smiled corporate-style.
"Please submit an official Artifact Misplacement Claim, along with three signed witness statements from Immortal Judges, verifying the celestial furnace's existence before theft occurred."
The disciple paled.
"But that would take—"
"Three months minimum processing time," Xu Liang agreed. "Please do not attempt to circumvent protocol."
The disciple withered, realizing their sect elder would not be pleased.
This was not Xu Liang's problem.
With practiced ease, he filed both documents, mentally preparing for his first workplace catastrophe.
He hadn't even set up his desk yet, and he was already making enemies.
---
The Cultivation Bureau: Where Strength Meant Nothing & Paperwork Ruled Supreme.
---
Xu Liang glanced at the stacks of scrolls and forms beside his newly assigned desk.
Paperwork. Duel permits. Artifact claims. Tax disputes.
This wasn't the path to immortality he had dreamed of.
And somehow… he knew this would only get worse.