Adventure

Daliang 638, April.

Qingfeng Temple, Qingshan County. Backyard kitchen.

Standing before a long wooden table, Chen Mu bit into a coarse-grain vegetable pancake, and the rough texture made him bare his teeth.

He was not from this world.

In his previous life, he had been an unremarkable, ordinary socially anxious shut-in. After waking from a single sleep, he had changed bodies and locations, arriving here through Possession Resurrection.

The previous owner of this body had also been named Chen Mu, a poor scholar who made a living through Writing and portrait painting.

This was not his home. His home was in Qingshan County at the foot of the mountain.

He had come to Qingfeng Temple to earn money copying Daoist scriptures for the temple.

The previous owner had already been here for two days. For some unknown reason, after one sleep, his consciousness had vanished, allowing Chen Mu to occupy the magpie's nest.

"Cheng Ming, your master still isn't back?" A Daoist in his fifties chatted as he scrubbed dishes.

The man's surname was He. He was Qingfeng Temple's Kitchen Daoist.

Hearing the question, the eight- or nine-year-old young Daoist boy beside Chen Mu puffed out his cheeks and answered indistinctly, "Not yet."

"Heh, looks like that Malevolent Spirit that used Possession Resurrection is pretty fierce." Daoist He narrowed his eyes at Chen Mu.

Chen Mu: "..."

"You know, I heard the one struck by the Malevolent Spirit this time was a poor scholar. After waking up from a nap, he seemed like a completely different person. He couldn't write properly, couldn't speak coherently, and didn't recognize any of his neighbors. That was how the villagers noticed something was wrong." Daoist He lowered his voice and whispered to Chen Mu, his face full of meaningful implication.

Chen Mu: "..." Why the hell are you telling me this? I don't want to hear it!

Chen Mu forced the corners of his mouth upward and gave him a polite, not-at-all-awkward Smile.

"Master is the strongest." Cheng Ming tipped back his head and swallowed the vegetable pancake in his mouth, his face full of pride.

"That's true. No matter how formidable a Malevolent Spirit is, it only takes one fire. Don't you think?" Daoist He raised his brows at Chen Mu, looking perfectly relaxed.

Chen Mu: "..." Could they have found me out right after I crossed over?!

Chen Mu glanced at the eight- or nine-year-old young Daoist boy... Mm, he could easily take this one down.

Then he looked at the short, fat, sturdy Kitchen Daoist... Mm, he really couldn't beat this one!

Just as Chen Mu was wondering whether he ought to grab a bucket and make a run for it, Daoist He lowered his head and resumed washing the dishes.

Chen Mu let out a long breath.

But Malevolent Spirits? What the hell were those?

A string of unfamiliar memories surfaced from the depths of his mind.

This world had possessed legends of gods and ghosts since ancient times, and the previous owner had heard them since childhood. Strange incidents involving something called Malevolent Spirits had always occurred nearby.

Some people died for no reason, some vanished mysteriously, and some underwent drastic changes in temperament, refusing to recognize even their own kin.

All such inexplicable, incomprehensible events were categorized as Malevolent Spirit incidents.

Such things were not rare in the Daliang Kingdom. The government offices even had people specifically tasked with handling them.

And as for how those whose temperaments had drastically changed, who were possessed by Malevolent Spirits, were dealt with, it really was just one fire—a fire that burned them to death!

I absolutely can't let anyone discover that my insides have been replaced! Chen Mu thought as he viciously bit into the dry, hard coarse-grain vegetable pancake.

Qingfeng Temple Library.

After sending away Little Daoist Cheng Ming, who had guided him there, Chen Mu stared worriedly at the Daoist scriptures on the desk.

He had changed worlds; the language and writing were different.

If he had not inherited the previous owner's memories, he would not even recognize the characters!

"Maybe I inherited the previous owner's Writing ability too? After all, judging from the memories, writing calligraphy doesn't seem that difficult."

With a thread of hope, Chen Mu picked up a brush, dipped it fully in ink, and boldly wrote three large characters—Root Scripture.

Looking at the three square, neat characters, Chen Mu's expression turned bitter.

The writing looked decent enough, but compared with the previous owner's, it lacked several years of refinement.

Anyone with even a little knowledge could spot the difference at a glance.

A drastic change in handwriting, suspicious behavior, Possession Resurrection... Why did that sound so familiar?

If he were really identified as being invaded by a Malevolent Spirit, wouldn't that be the end of him?

Chen Mu could not help looking at his right wrist.

"Could it be that I need to injure myself?"

Thinking of those people in his memories who had been burned to death after being possessed by Malevolent Spirits, Chen Mu shuddered.

"I don't want to be burned to death!"

"As long as I fall from a suitable angle, brace my palm against the ground, and land with my wrist resisting the impact, the cartilage in my wrist can easily be bruised and swollen."

"If my wrist is injured, a drastic change in handwriting will be unavoidable." Chen Mu pondered silently.

"To be safe, I should just break my arm in a fall!" Chen Mu thought fiercely through gritted teeth.

Just as he was about to get up and leave, intending to find a suitable angle to perform a flat-ground arm-breaking fall—

His vision suddenly blurred.

A translucent gray wall abruptly appeared before him.

Chen Mu instinctively reached forward, and his hands swished straight through the wall.

What the hell?

Only after a long while did Chen Mu realize it.

The towering iron-gray wall that filled his entire field of vision was not physical. It was an image directly projected onto his retina.

A transmigrator's benefit?

Upon closer inspection, he indeed saw a line of vigorous writing beneath the wall, as if carved by knives and axes.

The writing protruded from the wall, sharp and decisive, carrying an ancient, timeless aura that washed over him.

Writing: 7136/10000/Tier 1.

A golden finger?

Wonderful!

Chen Mu quickly accepted the existence of the gray wall.

He had already transmigrated. Wasn't it perfectly normal for a golden finger to appear?

As for whether there was some mastermind behind it all, Chen Mu did not care in the slightest.

In his previous life, he had been an unremarkable, ordinary shut-in.

Now he had transmigrated and gained a golden finger.

It gave him the chance to open his heart, cast aside all reservations, and charge ahead into a brand-new world. Even if it were a conspiracy, Chen Mu would willingly drink it down like nectar.

This would be a heartfelt, magnificent adventure!

The golden finger was easy enough to understand. It was like the Proficiency system from some third-rate online game.

As long as he wished it, the gray wall would appear before his eyes.

Moreover, the gray wall was translucent, as though he were wearing tinted glasses, and it did not affect his view of anything else at all.

Chen Mu thought for a moment, picked up the brush, and casually wrote three characters.

The number on the gray wall did not change at all.

Chen Mu fell into thought and picked up the brush again.

This time, he focused completely. Stroke by stroke, he wrote while considering the structure of the characters.

He constantly compared them with the handwriting in the previous owner's memories, making improvements.

Then something miraculous happened.

Threads of insight welled up from the depths of his heart, allowing him to clearly sense the differences between his handwriting and the previous owner's. They told him how to improve it, how to bring it closer to the previous owner's style, and even surpass it.

"Practicing seriously can raise Proficiency, and higher Proficiency brings real insight, genuinely improving my ability."

Chen Mu could not help breaking into a broad grin.

With Proficiency, what did he have to fear?

Being discovered because his handwriting had changed drastically? Impossible.

Wasn't it just grinding?

Chen Mu spread open the original Daoist scriptures, then took out the scriptures the previous owner had already copied as camouflage.

He put away the white paper and brush meant for copying scriptures, took out a new brush, and began practicing characters with water.

He did not know how long it would take to reach the previous owner's level.

Using ink, brushes, and white paper directly would waste far too much paper, and it would also leave behind traces of his practice.

Writing with water was much better. Once he wiped it away after writing, nothing would remain.