What a Damn Meteorite!

The bright moon was dim, and the stars were sparse.

The night sky was like a slab of ink so thick it could not be dissolved, desolate and profound.

The prisoners had worn shackles beneath the scorching sun and trudged on foot for an entire day. Both body and spirit had been squeezed to their limits, and even a small, sour, stinking bun had become a delicacy of the mortal world.

Once they finished eating and lay down on the ground, snores soon rose and fell one after another. Occasionally, they could also hear the crackling pops of the bonfire.

The constables gathered around the fire, took out their wine skins, and began drinking.

The dried meat in the earthen pot had already been stewed soft. With spices sprinkled in, it gave off a rich, domineering fragrance.

To these prisoners, weak in body and long deprived of a full meal, it held an almost fatal allure.

Shen Tang's sharp ears caught the gulping sounds of others swallowing saliva, as well as the rumbling thunder of hungry stomachs. She lowered her head and touched her own shriveled belly, lowering her eyes with a silent sigh—

She was hungry too.

"Want some?" A constable ladled a bowl of soup from the earthen pot and blew it slightly cool, preparing to take a sip. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the eager gazes, bright and dim alike. His eyes shifted, and he immediately swept them with ill intent. Smiling, he said, "This meat broth is expensive. If you want some, you'll have to trade something for it."

The prisoners immediately fell silent.

At his words, Shen Tang lifted her eyelids. Her lips pressed together slightly, and anger flashed through the depths of her dark eyes.

Losing her memories did not mean she had become a fool. She understood what the man meant—these were female prisoners with uncertain futures, about to be sent to the entertainment quarter. Even if they had hidden silver on them, it had already been searched clean. What else could they trade for meat broth?

The answer was ready to spill from their lips.

After speaking, the constable's frivolous gaze swept across the group of female prisoners. As though watching a play, he admired the hesitation and grief-stricken fury on their faces.

Another constable laughed and smacked the back of his head.

Laughing, he cursed, "Why don't you piss and take a look at yourself—are you even qualified to climb onto their beds? These are all the Gong Clan's 'honored persons.'"

He deliberately dragged out the words "honored persons."

"Honored persons? What kind of honored persons are they?" The constable rubbed the back of his head and deliberately raised his voice. "The kind sent to the entertainment quarter to serve honored persons?"

"Exactly!" A third constable joined in, emboldened by drink. "Isn't the entertainment quarter a place where anyone with silver can go have some fun? Us brothers can afford the filthy silver. If one person can't afford it, we'll pool our money. If we can't buy a whole night, we'll buy half a night. You take half an incense stick, I take half an incense stick..."

"Third Old, who are you looking down on? Whoever only lasts half an incense stick is a grandson!"

"They'll have to open for business sooner or later. Does it make any difference whether they open here or after reaching the entertainment quarter?"

Faced with such a great humiliation, the male prisoners dared to rage but not speak. The female prisoners with even a little beauty were all in danger, their faces gray as ashes.

Seeing them grow increasingly outrageous, the lead constable could only step forward to stop them.

"You lot, quiet down! You're getting more and more out of line! Once this assignment is done, go to whichever entertainment quarter you want and find courtesans for pleasure. Why fix your eyes on these few? Pull yourselves together and keep watch over them! The higher-ups gave orders—if even one of them escapes, none of us will be able to bear the consequences!"

The group of constables abruptly fell quiet, until one of them muttered softly.

"Every one of them has had their Literary Heart shattered and their Martial Spirit cracked. What could they possibly use to escape?"

Literary Heart?

Martial Spirit?

Shen Tang keenly caught those two terms.

Without warning, a sharp stinging pain too intense to ignore erupted from the depths of her mind.

Then she heard that constable flatter the lead constable in a low voice, smiling obsequiously. "No matter how glorious these Gong Clan prisoners once were, that was all in the past. Although us brothers are merely Low-Tier Gongshi, you are a Third-Class Zan Niao."

The other constables chimed in as well. "Exactly, exactly. Boss, these prisoners are either women or crippled wrecks. How could they possibly escape?"

Low-Tier Gongshi?

Third-Class Zan Niao?

What were those things?

Shen Tang's brows drew together. She clenched her teeth and endured the waves of pain, each stronger than the last. Before she knew it, her forehead was covered in fine cold sweat, and her face had turned pale blue. Though she had already restrained herself greatly, her faint, trembling movements still disturbed the prisoner beside her.

The woman lifted her eyelids and glanced at Shen Tang. Seeing her supporting her forehead with one hand, looking as though she could barely endure the agony, she snorted through her nose and turned her back on her.

She muttered, "Madwoman..."

No one knew how long passed before the stinging pain seemed to cross some critical threshold. With a boom, it receded like a tide.

Shen Tang let out a light gasp as though granted a reprieve, her gaze dazed and unfocused.

Once her thoughts cleared, a fragmentary, unfamiliar memory appeared in her mind. She closed her eyes and sorted through it—two hundred years ago, when the world was on the verge of being united, meteors fell like rain through the night. One Calamity Star was especially different, radiating an eerie, dazzling purple light that stained the entire sky curtain.

That meteor shower had not only overturned the course of the war, causing the overlord who stood one step from the summit to die with bitter regret, but had also swiftly changed the world.

From then on, the dragons had no head. Warlords and vassal lords everywhere raised armies and ruled themselves.

The world returned to chaotic times, then splintered into a Hundred Kingdoms locked in endless warfare.

The people could barely survive. Then, some people discovered strange changes in their bodies.

By cultivating literature and martial arts, they could absorb Heaven and Earth Qi, gathering it within the Dantian to temper themselves.

The Dantian was further divided into literary and martial aspects. If one could condense Heaven and Earth Qi into a core, one would become a "Literary Heart" or a "Martial Spirit," each with its own strengths.

As these people pressed forward one after another in their explorations, a systematic classification gradually emerged.

Literary Hearts had nine ranks. With a word, they could make things real, create something from nothing, arrange troops, and win battles from afar amid laughter and conversation.

Martial Spirits had twenty ranks. One man could hold the pass, and ten thousand men could not pass. Even against thousands of soldiers, one could charge in and out seven times, leaving horses overturned.

Gongshi and Zan Niao both belonged to Martial Spirits, respectively the lowest rank and the third rank. The highest rank of Martial Spirit was the 20th Rank Che Hou. Since the Calamity Star fell from the heavens, there had only been three Che Hou-level Martial Spirits. Every one of them was a hero capable of pulling up mountains and overwhelming the world, a pillar holding up an entire nation!

After sorting through those unfamiliar memories, Shen Tang's expression gradually turned speechless.

Just moments ago, she had guessed that she might possess some rank of Literary Heart or Martial Spirit. Even if it had been crippled, her constitution should have been better than ordinary people's, perhaps letting her use it to escape. But the instant that thought arose, a short line of information appeared in her mind and shattered her hopes—

She was female.

In this world, women's bodies were like bags with holes in them. Though they could perceive Heaven and Earth Qi, they could not gather it in the Dantian. Naturally, there was no such thing as a Literary Heart or Martial Spirit.

Shen Tang: "...Damn!"

Did that damn meteorite practice sexism too???

The moment she finished cursing inwardly, she heard the lead constable sternly reprimand his subordinates.

"What do brutes like you know?" The lead constable felt utterly comfortable from their flattery, but he did not get carried away and forget himself. "The Gong Clan has been stripped of their household, but not every last one of them was caught. I heard there's still a Wudafu fleeing outside. If we run into him... hmph!"

A Third-Class Zan Niao could beat this group of Low-Tier Gongshi until they cried for their fathers and mothers, unable to tell north from south. A Wudafu was ninth rank; beating a Zan Niao would be like a grandfather beating a grandson. If that Wudafu came to rescue the prisoners, they likely would not even have time to flee for their lives...

Of course, that possibility was small.

Everyone understood without words, and all felt lingering fear.

Because of that little incident, they had no choice but to put away their [lecherous] thoughts and dared not act recklessly.

The surroundings were so quiet that only insect chirping remained. Shen Tang was just feeling that life was hopeless when she sharply noticed movement in the hemp rope around her waist. Immediately following came the rolling sound of a small stone being thrown out.

A constable who heard the sound walked over.

He barked a warning. "What are you doing?"

The woman who had snatched Shen Tang's bun during the day swallowed and asked, "Young Master, do you still have any meat broth?"

Shen Tang, who had been feigning sleep, felt her brow twitch.

Please vote Recommendation Tickets for the female section! (:з"∠)

Shiitake went to mail the contract today. The status should probably change to signed next Monday.

The twenty ranks of Martial Spirit were based on the Qin Twenty-Rank Military Merit System. From low to high, they were: Gongshi, Shangzao, Zanxiao, Bugeng, Dafu, Guan Dafu, Gong Dafu, Gongcheng, Wudafu, Left Shu Chang, Right Shu Chang, Zuogeng, Middle Geng, Right Geng, Shao Shang Zao, Da Shang Zao, Si Che Shu Chang, Da Shu Chang, Guan Nei Hou, Che Hou.

It's too long, and flipping through my notes is a hassle, so I'm leaving a tag here to make it easier to find.

The classification of Literary Hearts was derived from the Nine-Rank System. Unlike Martial Spirits, which could level up, Literary Heart ranks were normally fixed. It was like opening a blind box—whatever rank you got was whatever rank you got. (:з"∠)

Oh, as for updates, they are generally scheduled for two in the afternoon. Normally there is one update; with recommendations, there will be two.