A Weak Chicken Cook

The north wind howled, as if carrying icy blades, chilling everything to the bone.

On a desolate mountain path strewn with rocks, Yu Ziqing tightened the cloak pieced together from several layers of black cloth. A black dog-skin hat covered his head, leaving only his squinting eyes visible as he tucked himself into the middle of the group, secretly glancing upwards.

Following behind the group were one hundred seventy to eighty sheep, most of them skin and bones. In addition, there were six long-haired oxen loaded with supplies.

Flanking the group were seven or eight weathered, gaunt men, their necks slightly hunched, listlessly watching the flock.

At the very front of the group rode four dark-skinned, shiny-haired men with hair like felt. They were mounted on tall horses, wearing only animal hide vests, yet their bodies steamed in the freezing weather.

Just getting closer, Yu Ziqing felt the cold lessen.

The man with snake patterns on his right cheek seemed to sense Yu Ziqing's approach. He turned his head, glanced back, and spoke to his companion in a foreign dialect with heavy, clicking sounds, saying something Yu Ziqing couldn't decipher.

Yu Ziqing lowered his head, pretending not to understand. He knew with his heel that whatever they were saying, it wouldn't be anything good.

After a few sentences, the four strongmen shifted their conversation away from Yu Ziqing and began chatting amongst themselves.

Yu Ziqing kept his head down, as if fearing the cold, following closely behind the four big men.

After about half an hour, as snow began to fall from the sky, the man with the snake pattern on his right cheek turned and glared at Yu Ziqing, speaking in the official dialect with a slightly stiff accent.

"Hungry. Roast meat."

"Okay," Yu Ziqing replied, thinking to himself, Good thing I learned the official dialect quickly. Otherwise, I wouldn't understand simple words like these if they had even a slight accent.

They arrived at a sheltered mountain hollow. The four strongmen dismounted, set up tents, and herded the cattle and sheep to the innermost part of the hollow before turning to look at Yu Ziqing.

Yu Ziqing, with a blank expression, went to search for dry, withered grass among the rocks to start a fire.

A moment later, Yu Ziqing took out the rock-hard frozen meat, sliced it with a cleaver, and laid it on a heated stone slab. Soon, the oil sizzled, and the aroma began to spread.

The four burly strongmen stuffed their mouths, chewing vigorously. Yu Ziqing had been roasting for a while, but in less than fifteen minutes, it was all gone.

After eating their fill and downing the rough wine from the animal hide wine skins, the strongmen continued their conversation in that foreign dialect with heavy, clicking sounds.

Sated and drunk, three of the strongmen were slightly tipsy. They collapsed by the tents, wrapped themselves in animal hides, and began snoring loudly, their snores like thunder. Only the serpent-tattooed strongman remained by the campfire.

Yu Ziqing looked at the empty stone slab and silently retreated to the side. He took out a piece of dry flatbread from his embrace, soaked it with some hot water until soft, and then slowly swallowed it.

Meanwhile, the weathered men quietly crept over, scraping the leftover grease and crumbs from the stone slab with their dry flatbreads, devouring them greedily.

Yu Ziqing sighed inwardly, said nothing, and stood up, clutching his stomach. The serpent-patterned strongman, seeing this, waved his hand impatiently.

Yu Ziqing walked out of the hollow to the leeward side. After relieving himself, he surveyed the surroundings and sighed.

What bad luck.

To be honest, when Yu Ziqing first arrived in this world and discovered it was set in ancient times, he was quite worried, not for himself, but for others.

He feared that a single bowel movement of his might cause a plague that could wipe out the entire city.

Then, he realized he had overthought things.

He hadn't seen a single city.

Less than three days after landing, he saw what looked like a new sun rising on the horizon, its blinding light expanding exponentially.

Fortunately, he reacted quickly and found cover immediately, otherwise, he would have been blinded by the intense light on the spot.

Disaster had struck.

After barely surviving for a month, he hadn't found any so-called cities. He finally found a village, but it was deserted, with not a single living soul to be found.

It was already a miracle to have survived for over a month without dying of thirst or hunger.

He finally encountered living people, only to find four strongmen who had kidnapped them.

After traveling with the group for a month, the old scholar who had taught him the official dialect was gone.

The vagrants who wanted to be lackeys and cling to the strongmen's legs were also gone.

Even several women had disappeared after Yu Ziqing woke up one morning.

At that time, according to the snake-patterned strongman, anyone who wanted to run could run, but the surrounding area for three to four hundred miles was desolate, and the weather was so cold. Without the resources in the hands of the strongmen, they wouldn't even survive three days.

Yu Ziqing had no intention of running. When the old scholar taught him the official dialect, he also taught him some of the local dialects. Coupled with Yu Ziqing's efforts to listen and compare from scratch, he could understand most of it.

By eavesdropping on the strongmen's idle chatter, he learned that these strongmen were human traffickers selling people to the mines. Moreover, this year the climate was abnormal, and the cold had set in unusually early, getting colder day by day.

A disaster had occurred a few months prior, and by today, not only within a radius of five hundred miles but even a thousand miles, it was difficult to find a single village.

Telling the trafficked people that the surrounding three to four hundred miles were a no-man's-land, Yu Ziqing guessed that these scoundrels had definitely set a trap, giving people a sliver of hope to escape.

Based on his experience, the current temperature was already around minus twenty degrees Celsius, and it was getting colder. He wasn't confident he could wander like a headless fly through a completely unfamiliar thousand miles—no, perhaps a larger no-man's-land—under these conditions.

He would survive first.

Of course, he also knew that he couldn't run.

Returning to the mountain hollow, Yu Ziqing hunched his body slightly, wrapped his makeshift cloak tighter, and lay down beside the campfire.

After a while, half-asleep, he vaguely saw figures moving.

Yu Ziqing remained still, his breathing even, only slightly opening his eyes a crack, watching quietly.

A man with a black mole on his left cheek walked around the edge of the camp, picked up a skinny, bone-bare lamb, and slithered outwards along the edge.

In the dim light of the campfire, Yu Ziqing could still see the lamb's head hanging down, unsure if it was already dead.

As the man left the temporary camp, he noticed several other figures quietly following him. They exchanged hand signals and moved stealthily.

Inside the camp, even the serpent-tattooed strongman on the final watch had fallen into a deep sleep.

Yu Ziqing sighed inwardly, his expression complex. He wasn't sure whether to admire the courage of these individuals or lament their impending fate.

As expected, after the group had traveled barely ten yards, Yu Ziqing saw a black rope on the ground, moving like a dark snake with a faint rustling sound, following them.

The man carrying the lamb stumbled as if he had tripped, falling to his knees. As he braced himself with his hands to get up, the emaciated lamb on his back silently transformed into a sheepskin and draped itself over him.

The black rope, which had crept closer without a sound, coiled around his neck at that moment.

A seven-foot man was dragged into the shadows by the black rope without any resistance.

"Baa... Baa..."

Accompanied by terrified bleating that echoed through the night, the bonfire suddenly blazed brighter. In the illuminated light, the serpent-tattooed strongman was seen standing in the shadows, having appeared there at some unknown time.

He held the black rope, which was attached to a white goat on the other end.

The goat had a circular black marking on its left face.

Its shape was identical to the black mole on the left side of the man's face earlier.

Seeing the serpent-tattooed strongman emerge from the shadows with a cold smile, the remaining individuals, their faces etched with terror, wildly swung small knives they had procured from somewhere, stabbing at the serpent-tattooed strongman's body.

"Clang."

A sound of metal striking metal rang out. The spots where the knives had struck still gleamed with an oily sheen, their skin unbroken.

The fiercely burning bonfire flames subsided, and everything was once again swallowed by shadows.

Not long after, Yu Ziqing saw the serpent-tattooed strongman return, holding the black rope, which was now tethered to seven or eight emaciated goats, their bones showing through their skin.

All was silent, as if everything had returned to normal.

By the latter half of the night, it seemed even colder than the previous day.

Yu Ziqing was jolted awake by the biting cold. He could only move closer to the bonfire and the human furnaces beside it, finally feeling a little warmer.

However, he found he had no more sleepiness.

Taking advantage of the firelight, Yu Ziqing took out a yellowed booklet and used charred charcoal as a writing tool, sketching and writing in it.

The serpent-tattooed strongman on watch glanced over from his seat by the bonfire. Seeing the words "Recipe Book" on the cover, he turned away as if it were nothing unusual and proceeded to stuff a black scorpion into his mouth.

Yu Ziqing opened the recipe book. Most of it was filled with characters of very complex strokes, but in the gaps between the lines of text, he found familiar Chinese characters written in small, cramped script.

Codename: Serpent Tattoo Face.

True Name: Holgerda (phonetic translation), Original text: **** (blacked out).

Identity: Member of the Bantu Tribe (annihilated), human trafficker, cannibalistic evil cultivator, informant for the Seventh Floor (unknown faction).

Major Experiences: Tribe's annihilation, wandered the wilderness, coincidentally obtained a fragment of a cultivation method called "Commonly Heard Poisons," embarking on the path of an evil cultivator and human trafficker.

Frequently Consumes Poisons (plenty of poisonous insects and snakes in the supplies, necessary for cultivation).

Cultivates evil methods, beast-making.

Rope Control, the black rope's physical form is hair mixed with wool of an unknown species, woven together, serving as an essential artifact for the beast-making evil method.

Following this, Yu Ziqing continued to add:

Invulnerable to blades and spears; not due to physical conditioning or qi resistance, but requires the consumption of poisons for cultivation and replenishment. Poisons can also be used as mana potions.

This last point was something he had just observed. He had seen the consumption of poisons for cultivation numerous times, but his immediate consumption of poisons as mana potions after an attack to quickly replenish expended energy was his own deduction.

After he finished writing this page, the entire recipe book, filled with gaps, was densely packed with small-script information about the serpent-tattooed strongman, extremely detailed.

Having completed this, Yu Ziqing tucked the recipe book into his embrace. He then glanced at a rusted sword he was carrying. The sword and its scabbard were completely rusted solid, rendered useless.

But at this moment, from the gap between the rusted sword and its scabbard, faint traces of rust were turning into dust and falling away silently.

Yu Ziqing's heart suddenly relaxed. His body, which had been tense and coiled, seemed to finally dare to loosen up a little at this moment.

Gathering information little by little to understand these powerful individuals was normally very necessary, let alone now when it was a trump card for him to preserve his life.

Although he was just an ordinary person, no, now he was a weakling, half-starved and half-frozen, not even as well-off as an ordinary person who had eaten and drunk his fill.

But as long as he knew some necessary information about his opponents, then for his opponents, as long as they made a move, he was practically invincible.

After months of exploration, today he had finally met the trigger conditions for the Serpent-patterned Man.

It was a pity that the categorization was still quite rough.

For now, he could only tentatively categorize it as True Name, Identity, Origin, Primary Cultivation Method, Specialties, or Trump Cards.

However, he was still unsure how specific the content for each item needed to be. Yu Ziqing even felt that there might be some requirements he hadn't categorized.

Yu Ziqing raised his head and looked at the serpent-tattooed strongman, his eyes narrowing slightly. His perpetually tense nerves finally relaxed a tiny bit. At least from now on, his life wouldn't be entirely in someone else's hands.

He took out his charcoal pencil and blacked out all the small text, only adding at the beginning:

"Serpent-patterned Man, harmless."

Continuing to the next page, all the information on this page had been blacked out, leaving only one sentence.

"Scar-faced Man, harmless."

After flipping two more pages, it was the same.

Yu Ziqing tightened his cloak and fell asleep by the campfire.

This time, he slept much more soundly.

In a flash, as dawn broke, Yu Ziqing was woken up.

It was time to continue their journey.

A casual glance confirmed it: the few dark, weathered men left from yesterday were all gone.

And in the flock of sheep, a careful count revealed a few more than before.

They traveled until nightfall again, and when they found a place to rest, the serpent-patterned strongman seemed relieved. He pointed to the faintly visible mountain range in the distance and grinned, saying with a wide smile.

"We're almost there, the mine."

Yu Ziqing also seemed relieved and smiled back.

According to what these strongmen had said in their alien dialect, since the disaster, for the past thousand miles or so, this mine was the only inhabited place.

Or perhaps, it was the only relatively safe place, at least where there was food, drinkable water, and shelter from the wind, snow, and cold.

This mine produced a type of ore called Jinlan, accounting for over fifty percent of the world's total output, with the remaining less than half scattered across various locations.

Yu Ziqing didn't know its specific uses. He had only heard that this material was a necessity for the extremely high-ranking, mystical cultivators of the Great Gan Divine Dynasty in the south, and it was always in short supply.

With such benefits, it was impossible for the mine to become uninhabited.

However, the thousand-mile wasteland underfoot, for reasons Yu Ziqing hadn't yet figured out, was not officially incorporated into the Great Gan Divine Dynasty's territory.

Yu Ziqing guessed that this might have provided the basis for those strongmen to abduct and sell people.

It was just a pity that the overall environment had worsened, and even these strongmen planned to leave after this job, as there was no more profit to be made here. Like this time herding sheep, it took the longest, but the number of sheep was the smallest.

Now, after traveling dozens of miles, not even a rabbit could be seen. The edible plants were either frozen to death or withered. Even those that had dried up and were buried in the soil mostly couldn't escape being gnawed clean by fleeing animals.

Along the way, apart from dry, withered bones, it was hard to see anything else. It hadn't been like this before.

Night fell.

Yu Ziqing stood at the edge of the flock, his back to the four strongmen. He held a palm-sized flatbread in his hand and offered it to the mouth of a withered old sheep, murmuring.

"Eat something. Live first, then there's hope."

The old sheep bleated twice, nibbled at the bread, and drank some of the water Yu Ziqing gave it.

Just then, the serpent-patterned strongman walked over, pointed at Yu Ziqing, then at the withered old sheep, and shouted impatiently.

"Hurry up, bring it here."

Yu Ziqing froze, his eyes instantly changing.

Unfortunately, he had kept his eyes narrowed, his face covered in dirt and grime. The dead skin stuck to his face from not washing for a long time, coupled with the dog-skin hat wrapped around his head, meant no one could discern anything from his expression.

Yu Ziqing sighed inwardly and slowly turned around.

He said softly.

"This sheep is old and thin; it won't yield two pounds of meat. It's not tasty. Aren't there a few fatter sheep?"

Honestly, under normal circumstances, Yu Ziqing wouldn't be able to distinguish which sheep in the flock were victims of the beast-making evil method and which were real sheep.

But here, he could indeed tell at a glance.

In this cold, desolate wilderness, apart from strongmen like these, it was impossible to find ordinary people who were plump and strong.

After several months, no matter how they were before, everyone, dead or alive, would definitely be thinner.

As for those who weren't thin, they wouldn't have become victims of beast-making.

The serpent-patterned strongman heard this, grinned widely, pointed at Yu Ziqing, and burst into laughter.

"You're right, there are indeed some more plump ones here."

As he spoke, the black rope tied to his waist had, at some point, disappeared.

Hearing this, Yu Ziqing immediately understood that this guy was doing it on purpose.

With their destination imminent, his value as a chef was no longer as important as his value as a sheep.

His plan to find a relatively stable place to settle down before making further plans ultimately could not proceed smoothly.

Yu Ziqing gently nudged the old sheep and said directly.

"Old sir, move away. The blood might splash on you later. In this weather, getting wet could be fatal."

The old sheep bleated twice. Seeing the grief in Yu Ziqing's eyes, it bleated mournfully, understanding that Yu Ziqing didn't want to involve him even in his final moments.

Unfortunately, it couldn't defy Yu Ziqing and was pushed into the flock, getting carried away by the other sheep.

Yu Ziqing turned his head and slowly walked outwards, his hand slowly reaching into his huai, pulling out the rusted short sword.

The serpent-patterned strongman couldn't help but laugh. He wasn't afraid that Yu Ziqing had seen through him earlier, nor did he intend to hide anything.

The black rope was already dragging a sheepskin, appearing behind Yu Ziqing.

The black rope, dragging the sheepskin, lunged forward. Yu Ziqing lowered his eyelids, his left hand gripping the scabbard, his right hand holding the short sword, and he pulled it out forcefully.

In an instant, a flash of sword light streaked across the rusted short sword. The short sword, leaving afterimages, sliced both the sheepskin and the black rope into two pieces.

Accompanied by the struggling and howling of the black rope, as if it were alive.

The rust on the short sword peeled off layer by layer, and the short sword instantly transformed into a Silver Frost Sword covered in water patterns, emitting a chilling gleam.

Yu Ziqing's slightly hunched body slowly straightened. Within his frail frame, a bone-chilling killing intent, accompanied by surging Blood Essence, erupted out of nowhere.

His eyes, which had been slightly narrowed, suddenly opened. Within his star-like eyes, a dazzling, scorching sun seemed to shine.

Yu Ziqing remained silent. He drew his sword and lunged forward, his figure like a drawn sword, so fast that by the time the sword light was seen, he had already passed by.

A head, along with hot, foul-smelling blood, shot into the sky.

The serpent-tattooed strongman's face still held an expression of shock and confusion from before his death.

He never understood why a temporary cook, whose Blood Essence was depleted, who was as thin as a rake, and who couldn't even lift a chicken, suddenly erupted with such terrifying power.

After spending so many days together, none of them had sensed the slightest abnormality.

New author, new book, please pay attention. The first chapter is over five thousand characters. Thank you.