Living Was No Easy Matter

Four days later, Library.

Cheng Yi carefully examined the copied Daoist scriptures.

Seven Daoist scriptures lay spread out before him. They were Chen Mu's work from the past few days.

Two had been copied by the previous owner of this body; Chen Mu had copied the other five.

Cheng Yi set down the last Daoist scripture and picked up the first again. "Let me look through it once more. Once more."

"If you keep flipping through it, you'll curl the pages." Chen Mu reminded him expressionlessly.

He had said he would only look through them earlier too, yet he had ended up reading every single character from beginning to end.

Was this guy trying to welch on the deal?!

Chen Mu narrowed his eyes and silently walked to one corner of the desk, his right hand quietly reaching for the inkstone.

After thinking it over, his left hand slowly clasped the brush washer as well...

Only after a long while did Cheng Yi reluctantly close the book.

When he looked up and noticed Chen Mu's little movements, his eyelid twitched violently. Was this scholar really this reckless?!

Though the handwriting had indeed changed somewhat, it had become more graceful and beautiful. It could stand shoulder to shoulder with the wall carvings in the Ancestral Master Hall.

And upon closer inspection, one would find that the writing shared the same lineage as the original handwriting.

He could only admire the other man's exceptional talent and the further improvement in his calligraphic foundation.

He had never heard of a Malevolent Spirit inheriting the original owner's talents and learning, much less taking them a step further.

He had truly guessed wrong.

Just as Chen Mu could no longer hold himself back from acting,

Cheng Yi pulled a Gray Cloth Bag from his sleeve.

"A small token for your brushwork. Please don't think it too little."

Chen Mu immediately broke into a smile. "Not little at all. How about you look a while longer?"

"No need. The handwriting is elegant and open, and looking upon it gives one the sense of an ethereal immortal. It is rare, excellent calligraphy. Young Master Chen's talent in calligraphy is outstanding; you will surely become a master of your generation." Cheng Yi praised him with ill-disguised displeasure.

"Master Cheng Yi overpraises me." Chen Mu said modestly.

The two exchanged pleasantries for a while longer before Chen Mu took his leave.

The scripture-copying was over. It was time for him to go home.

At the entrance to the temple, Chen Mu was bidding Cheng Yi farewell.

"Hmm?" Cheng Yi suddenly raised his head and looked into the distance.

Chen Mu could not help turning to look as well.

Qingfeng Temple sat halfway up Little East Mountain, with a stone stairway leading straight down to the foot of the mountain.

At that moment, a figure was racing wildly up from below.

With each step, he shot forward five or six meters. After only a few rises and falls, he had covered half the mountain road.

Chen Mu stared, dumbfounded.

"How could someone run that fast?!"

His scalp tightened, and his heart could not help but leap.

"This world has martial arts that let people run across eaves and scale walls!"

He could not help thinking of the Taoists at Qingfeng Temple who practiced martial arts. Could they run across eaves and scale walls too?

Chen Mu had thought it was merely a guiding technique for strengthening the body.

"Master Cheng Yi, does Qingfeng Temple teach martial arts?" Chen Mu looked at Cheng Yi with shining eyes.

Cheng Yi withdrew his gaze and glanced at Chen Mu. "Young Master Chen wishes to learn martial arts?"

"Unfortunately, Qingfeng Temple's martial arts are taught only to direct disciples." Cheng Yi said blandly. "Young Master Chen is already an adult and does not meet the temple's requirements for taking disciples."

"Is there no such thing as lay disciples?" Chen Mu refused to give up. This was martial arts that could let people run across eaves and scale walls!

Cheng Yi merely smiled without speaking.

Chen Mu still wanted to ask more, but the figure that had just been at the foot of the mountain had already arrived before them.

The man wore a fitted black outfit, with a black-handled Wild Goose Feather Blade hanging at his waist.

He arrived with a gust of fierce wind in his wake and, the moment he steadied himself, anxiously asked, "Is Daoist Feng Ren here?"

"Constable Lu?!" Cheng Yi's expression changed. "Master went down the mountain and has not returned. Has another place been plagued by a Malevolent Spirit?"

Constable Lu turned to glance at Chen Mu. "Come inside and talk!"

Chen Mu stood at the temple entrance, watching the two hurry away, his expression unreadable.

Martial arts? Malevolent Spirits?

This world was truly wondrous!

He wanted to see just how formidable martial arts were. He wanted to know what Malevolent Spirits truly were.

To him, this unknown world was a vast treasure waiting to be explored.

Chen Mu could not help but feel his blood boil. "The world is vast. I want to see it."

East Gate of Qingshan County, Rongliang Rice Shop in East Market.

Chen Mu, who had just been burning with the desire to see the world, now felt as though someone had dumped a basin of cold water over him.

"Ten dou of White Wheat, one cloth bag, sixty-two copper coins at our honest price." The rice shop clerk placed the Gray Cloth Bag on the counter and looked at Chen Mu with a beaming smile.

The one hundred and fifty copper coins on him had barely warmed up before nearly half of them were gone in one stroke.

If he ate without restraint, this White Wheat would only last him a little over half a month.

Add firewood, oil, salt, and consumables like brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.

Forget seeing the world—if he could not keep earning money, it was hard to say whether he would even have food to eat next month!

Living was no easy matter...

With the rice sack on his back, Chen Mu left East Market and wound his way to Ping'an Ward in the southeastern part of the county town.

Following his memories, Chen Mu stopped before a Residence.

This was the previous owner's home. His father had died of illness a few years ago, and his mother had passed even earlier, leaving him alone to live here.

He unlocked the brass lock, pushed open the gray wooden door, and stepped inside.

The small courtyard was not large. To the east was a vegetable patch; to the west stood a thatched shed, beneath which was a Stove built of mud. There was also a well beside it.

"Though small as a sparrow, it has all five vital organs. Not a bad place."

Inside the main hall, a Square Table stood directly opposite the entrance, with two long benches beside it.

Chen Mu walked beneath the western window.

A long wooden table stood there, covered with pots, bowls, ladles, and basins. He poured the White Wheat into the black rice jar beside the table, then sat at the Square Table to rest.

Transmigration, Malevolent Spirits, practicing calligraphy, copying scriptures—ever since arriving in this world, he had not had a moment's leisure.

Now that everything had settled down, he instead felt somewhat lost.

Should he make a living writing and painting portraits like the previous owner?

He could almost see the end of that kind of life at a glance.

Scrimp and save, painstakingly accumulate money; when he got older, make do and marry a wife. Then have a child whose filial piety was anyone's guess. After that, spend the rest of his days amid the clamor of firewood, rice, oil, and salt.

One could say that plainness was truth, but one could also say that it was a life of mediocrity.

It was practically a replica of Chen Mu's previous life.

But since he had been given the chance to transmigrate, he no longer wanted to live such a monotonous life!

He wanted to venture forth! He wanted to go on adventures...

Bang bang bang!

A sudden knock came from outside.

"Open the door!"

Who was it? Chen Mu opened the door in confusion.

A tall, thin old man in his fifties stood outside.

With a cold face, the man said blandly, "Rent."

A memory swiftly sprang into his mind.

Li Enwu, the Wang Family's second steward, rent collector.

Though he had lived in this house since childhood, it did not belong to him.

"Steward Li, please come in." Chen Mu said politely.

"No need." Steward Li waved his hand coldly. "Pay up."

"Please wait. I'll get it right away." Chen Mu turned and went back inside, pulling a black pottery jar from beneath the bed.

The pottery jar was sealed with gray cloth and was about the size of two fists.

He removed the sealing cord, turned it upside down, and with a clatter poured out a small pile of copper coins.

These were all the previous owner's savings.

Quickly counting out three hundred and ten copper coins and placing them in a Small Cloth Bag, Chen Mu returned to the door.

"Steward Li, here is the rent for three months. Please take it." Chen Mu handed over the Gray Cloth Bag.

Steward Li took it, weighed it twice in his hand, and nodded faintly. He casually tossed it to the two Burly Men behind him, then turned and left.

Chen Mu shut the door and returned inside, sighing as he counted his copper coins.

"Counting what I earned from copying scriptures, I have only two hundred and thirty-two left in total."

"Fatty pork costs twenty-four copper coins per jin. With this little money, I can't even buy ten jin of meat."

He wanted to roam the world bravely, but first he had to earn money to eat.