Enlistment

And at this moment, Gu Chang'an.

He was hiding at the end of a secluded alley in the southern part of Nanning County, sitting in a dilapidated house piled with broken tiles and lingering bricks.

He wore a coarse gray linen tunic, his hair was loosely gathered, and his face still bore smudges of mud. Yet his expression was exceptionally bright.

He sat cross-legged on the ground, an old hemp cloth spread out before him with neat rows: hundreds of copper coins, a few dry pancakes, and half a strip of dried meat.

Sun Wenhao alone had nearly three hundred wen on him.

Counting the copper coins, Gu Chang'an's eyes lit up like a child who had just unearthed a treasure, his mouth muttering in a low, constant murmur:

"A total of five hundred and seventy-two wen, plus my original three hundred wen, that's... that's nearly nine hundred wen!"

His hands gestured in the air, the joy on his face almost impossible to suppress.

With conscience gone, earning really was much faster.

Gu Chang'an lowered his head to gaze at that small pile of copper coins, an unconcealable joy welling up in his eyes.

This money was enough to trade for a household registration.

That single slip of household registration meant he would transform from a vagrant into a commoner.

At the very least, he could stand upright and proud in the sunlight, no longer a lowly pariah who could be driven away at any moment and left to the mercy of others.

Most importantly, he could elevate his status.

Raising his physical constitution daily also increased its value.

He carefully gathered up the copper coins, slipping them one by one into a small pouch sewn from rags, then tucked the pouch against his chest, pressing it tightly beneath his tattered robe.

The heavy sensation pressed against his chest, striking a blow against his fragile and greedy sense of security with every beat.

Yet a moment later, the fire in those eyes dimmed.

Gu Chang'an looked up toward distant Nanning County, his brow furrowing quietly:

"Now that Feng Debao and the other two are dead, if I rush to change my household registration too quickly, I'm afraid it will invite unnecessary trouble."

If not for his relatively strong strength and successful sneak attack, he likely would have ended up a corpse in a ruined temple long ago.

He sighed, ultimately suppressing the impulse, and silently resolved in his heart:

"Forget it. Better to wait until the storm passes before plotting my next move."

He dared not sleep this night, leaning against the corner of the wall with a firewood chopper gripped tightly in his hand.

His gaze remained fixed outside the door until morning light pierced the cracks of the temple's entrance, and only then did he slowly relax.

Early the next morning, he quietly returned to the ruined temple.

The dust inside was undisturbed, the bloodstains completely gone, and the five bodies that had originally lain there were already nowhere to be seen.

It seemed the corpses had been cleared away.

There were no notices on the streets, no arrest warrants, and no one mentioned the matter, as if the lives of those five beggars had not even stirred a single ripple.

Gu Chang'an's heart settled completely, and he finally felt at ease.

This was a chaotic era, and dying people were nothing rare.

Especially in this South City, a few beggars dying caused not the slightest ripple.

To be even more secure, he did not step foot into that temple again.

Instead, he spent two wen to rent a corner of a dilapidated ancestral hall in the South City.

Vagrants in the South District were like ants, tangled and chaotic, with people coming and going constantly; the officials were too overwhelmed to manage them all, and outsiders couldn't be bothered to ask questions.

At the very least, this abandoned ancestral hall was slightly safer.

In the days that followed, Gu Chang'an continued to go outside the city every day to chop firewood, though the frequency was greatly reduced.

He had learned his lesson; he no longer ran while carrying firewood every day, nor did he sell it too conspicuously, earning only about ten wen a day.

He earned quite a bit, but it wasn't prominent.

He relished this state of affairs.

Steady development was the ultimate truth.

Five days later.

The storm surrounding the disappearance of the five men had completely faded into silence,

and Gu Chang'an finally laid down the heavy burden in his heart.

Perhaps he could go change his household registration now.

Walking a few miles, he rested by a stream and took out a hard, dry bun, chewing it bite by bite.

By now, a month had already passed since his transmigration.

His information panel had changed to:

[Name: Gu Chang'an]
[Lifespan: 1 year and 5 months]
[Status: Woodcutter (Vagrant)]
[Realm: None]
[Physique: 42 (+1/day)]
[Technique: Iron Cutting Saber Technique (Yellow Grade Low Rank, Initial Mastery)+]

A physique of 42 points was already twice that of an ordinary person in this world.

So much time had passed now, and it was time to go change his household registration.

Gu Chang'an had just stepped through the city gates, not yet out of the shadow of the city wall, when he was halted by a rough, hoarse shout.

"Well, Gu Chang'an—how come you didn't go chop firewood today?"

The voice carried mockery and interrogation.

He slowly turned his head. It was Zhang Qiang from the Firewood Gang.

That gloomy, mean-spirited face was smeared with grease and anger. Broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, he had a firewood chopper tucked diagonally at his waist, and his gaze was sharper than the blade.

Although Zhang Qiang was not a Ranked Martial Artist, he was far beyond what those vagrants could compare to.

"I caught a chill the other days, my body..."

"Spare me that routine," Zhang Qiang interrupted, the displeasure in his eyes growing even heavier. "You brat..."

"Master Zhang, this is today's... protection money."

Gu Chang'an's heart tightened. Not daring to argue, he hurriedly fished out several copper coins and offered them up with both hands.

Zhang Qiang raised an eyebrow and reached out to take them. As soon as the copper coins entered his palm, he froze instantly.

This money should be about six or seven wen.

Taking advantage of the moment he was dazed, Gu Chang'an abruptly lowered his head, bowed, and slipped away with his feet.

Immediately, taking cover behind the crowd of people, he quickly darted into an alleyway and vanished from sight in the blink of an eye.

Only then did Zhang Qiang snap back to his senses. He lowered his head to look at those two zhushu coins, sniffing a faint trace of strange odor amid the verdigris.

His brow furrowed slightly, and his nostrils twitched as he caught a faint whiff of blood from the copper coins.

He narrowed his eyes, rubbing the copper coins between his fingers for a moment before suddenly smiling—not with a ferocious grin, but with the satisfied smile of a predator catching the scent of its prey.

"The brat... really has something going on."

He muttered to himself, his tone low yet ironclad and certain.

"Normally he grudges even a few wen, but today he brings seven or eight wen of tribute without even selling firewood, and he's so brisk about it... I'm afraid he's struck it rich."

Zhang Qiang licked his lips, his gaze as cold and sharp as a blade.

"No matter what kind of fortune it is, Gu Chang'an, running into me, Zhang Qiang, is your bad luck..."

He tucked the copper coins into his bosom and turned to vanish into the crowd.

Yet at this moment, Gu Chang'an remained completely unaware, feeling only a heavy weight pressing down on his heart.

In this city, mud covered the ground, and the poor lived like dogs—

Once they had a bone, they never knew when another dog would clamp down on their neck.

He walked through the crowd with his head lowered, no longer meeting anyone's gaze, only chanting silently in the depths of his heart:

"I need to become stronger."

In the afternoon.

Gu Chang'an stood before the gates of the South City Office.

He looked up at the mottled, indistinct plaque, a tangled mix of emotions churning in his heart.

Unlike the main office in the North City, the South City Office appeared somewhat desolate.

The South City was rife with chaos and divided into six wards.

Most of the people within it were vagrants, ruffians, bandits, beggars, prostitutes, assassins, and the like—a gathering place for all kinds of filth.

Stepping into the office, a damp, moldy stench rushed over him. The walls were peeling, and the clerks seated before the desks were lazy and slick.

Gu Chang'an came to a halt, cupping his fists and lowering his voice: "Vagrant registering for household registration."

The clerk did not raise his head, merely flipping through a tattered thin booklet while muttering under his breath:

"Place of origin?"

Gu Chang'an's heart tightened.

Fortunately, having inherited the fragmented memories of his predecessor, he paused for a brief moment of recollection, suppressed his nervousness, and replied: "Gu Chang'an, originally from Pingyang in Hedong."

Only then did the clerk stand up, sauntering lazily into the inner room.

A moment later, he paced back out with a cold expression.

"Found it. Hand over the money—vagrant household registration, one thousand wen."

Gu Chang'an was stunned, frowning as he said: "I remember it being eight hundred wen."

The clerk finally raised his head, casting a condescending glance down at him with a half-smile, too disdainful to even speak.

That look clearly stated: Whatever I say it is, that's what it costs.

Gu Chang'an fell silent.

In the end, he still fished out his money pouch, dumping almost all of his savings onto the desk and passing the coins over one by one.

The clerk took them and skillfully flipped the pages to write, chanting under his breath as he did:

"Gu Chang'an, male, eighteen, originally from Pingyang in Hedong, now registered in Guangfu Ward, South City, Nanning County."

He slapped an ink-stained document down onto the desk with a snap and pushed it forward.

"Take it, you have your household registration now."

Gu Chang'an took it, his fingertips trembling slightly.

At this moment, he was finally a "person" once more, and no longer a "vagrant."

As he turned to leave, the clerk suddenly spoke: "Wait."

Gu Chang'an turned back.

"Those who register receive one mu of wasteland, which must be cleared and taxed on schedule."

Gu Chang'an was taken aback, asking with hesitation: "...Can I refuse it?"

Amidst the current drought, clearing wasteland was a complete waste of effort.

Furthermore, the land tax was heavy, and he could do without this wasteland.

What he harvested from farming wouldn't even cover the land tax.

Even a dog wouldn't farm land like that.

Besides, being a farmer was not part of his plan.

And he didn't know how to farm anyway...

The clerk shook his head: "No. The government gives you land so you can clear the wasteland and pay taxes; that's the rule."

"If you aren't willing to clear it yourself, you can also hire someone to manage it, as long as the taxes are paid in full."

"Good wasteland closer to the city costs extra, though..."

Gu Chang'an looked down at the empty money pouch in his hand. With a bitter smile, he cupped his fists and said: "This commoner will take the cheapest land."

Seeing this, the clerk casually waved a hand: "Turn right out the door and go collect the land deed."

As for himself, he slipped those extra two hundred wen into his sleeve with practiced ease, without even blinking an eye.

"Another fat sheep,"

he thought to himself, then lowered his head to continue flipping through the register, waiting for the next person available to be squeezed.

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