Blade Light Reflects the Moon, Ambition Ignites

The sunset stretched Qin Meng's shadow long, casting it diagonally against the earthen courtyard wall.

He pushed open the gate. The courtyard was quiet; Shen Qiuyue was not home.

He set down his basket first and carefully poured the coarse grains into the nearly empty rice crock, placing the bag of premium rice right on top.

Looking at the mound of grain rising in the crock, Qin Meng felt a little more at ease—for the next half month or so, Qiuyue wouldn't have to worry about food.

He skillfully washed the rice, lit the fire, and set a pot of grain to steam. Then, he took two pheasants and a hare—his catch for the day—to the well to process them.

He plucked the pheasants and set them to simmer in an earthenware pot; he skinned the hare, cut it into pieces, and blanched them in preparation...

As darkness fell, footsteps echoed outside the courtyard.

Shen Qiuyue returned, carrying ten catties of millet she had borrowed. A rich, meaty aroma wafted out through the door cracks.

She pushed the door open, puzzled, and froze!

The kitchen was filled with smoke and the glow of the hearth. The husband who had once known nothing but drinking and gambling was now wearing an apron, setting a basin of hot soup onto the table.

"You're back? Get ready to eat." Qin Meng turned around and smiled, his forehead beaded with a light sweat.

Shen Qiuyue gave a soft "mm," set down her basket, and instinctively looked toward the rice crock.

She gasped, covering her mouth in shock. The bottom of the crock, which had been empty, was now half-full of coarse grains, with a bag of snowy-white premium rice sitting right on top.

On the stove, a basin was filled with cleaned meat.

Scallions, ginger, garlic, and other seasonings they usually couldn't bear to buy were all laid out.

"I had good luck today. I caught some game, traded it for money, and bought some food."

Qin Meng wiped his hands clean and pulled out a large bundle. "Oh, and this fabric is for you to make a new dress. Don't go doing laundry for others anymore; that work ruins your hands."

Shen Qiuyue held the fabric, her fingers stroking the thick cotton, her eyes gradually growing moist.

"We should save the money, you don't need to spend it on me..."

"My woman shouldn't have to wear patched clothes all the time." Qin Meng interrupted her, his gaze firm. "Once we have more money, I'll buy you rouge and jewelry."

At these words, tears shimmered in Shen Qiuyue's eyes.

Under the glow of the oil lamp, the worn wooden table was spread with stewed chicken, braised rabbit, stir-fried chicken giblets with greens, and a heaping bowl of grain.

Shen Qiuyue only reached for the greens, so Qin Meng placed a rabbit leg and a chicken leg into her bowl. "Eat more. With me here from now on, we'll eat meat every day."

He shoveled a mouthful of rice into his mouth. "This house needs repairs, too. The earthen walls leak wind, and the roof isn't sturdy. Once we save enough money, we'll hire a craftsman to fix it up properly."

"Okay." Shen Qiuyue ate in small bites, her gaze resting on his face. "Mengzi, you today..."

"People change." Qin Meng set down his bowl and delivered the explanation he had prepared. "That fall woke me up, and I finally realized that in this world, you are the only one who has never abandoned me. I was a fool before. And besides,"

He paused. "I discovered that I was born with more strength than the average person. I'm not the good-for-nothing they claimed I was. As long as I'm willing to work hard, there is hope."

"I, Qin Meng, will definitely walk the martial path and make those who looked down on me look up to me."

A glimmer appeared in Shen Qiuyue's eyes. "I believe in you."

She murmured softly, "The you of now is the husband I've always wanted."

The meal was finished in a long-lost atmosphere of warmth.

After dinner, Shen Qiuyue cleared the dishes, a faint smile on her face.

Qin Meng went out into the courtyard to practice his blade techniques under the twilight.

The moves of the eight blade breaking techniques unfolded clearly in his mind.

Splitting, hacking, lifting, chopping—every move carried the combat memories of his past life. As the blade flashed, a murderous aura began to emerge.

This body had undergone physique enhancement, and his comprehension of the blade techniques was shockingly fast.

Once, twice, three times...

[Eight Blade Breaking Techniques - Entry (145/200)]

[Martial Skill Progress: 5%]

By the fifth repetition, Qin Meng paused to catch his breath, panting slightly. The information on the panel had changed; he only needed to practice a few more times to max out the proficiency, though the martial skill progress crawled forward like a snail.

Just as he was about to continue, a sharp pang of hunger struck his stomach, reminding him how much energy he had expended today.

Returning to the kitchen, Qin Meng wolfed down the still-warm chicken soup and coarse grain rice. The food turned into blood and qi in his stomach, quickly restoring his strength.

When he returned to the courtyard, the moon was already high in the sky.

This time, Qin Meng's movements were noticeably faster.

Sweat soaked his clothes, but he was completely immersed in the blade techniques.

With every swing, the memories of blood and fire in his mind became a fraction clearer; with every change in stance, the synergy between his body and the blade deepened.

The blade light blurred into a single sheet, carving silver arcs through the moonlight. His technique grew increasingly refined, until a few lines of text appeared before his eyes:

[Eight Blade Breaking Techniques - Mastery (1/500)]

[Special Effect: Physique Enhancement (Medium)]

Physique Enhancement: Moderately enhances physical constitution.

A surge of immense power erupted from within his body, coursing through his limbs and bones. Qin Meng's entire skeleton crackled and popped; his muscles swelled with heat before slowly settling back down. His strength, agility, and endurance were all skyrocketing.

He clenched his fist, his knuckles emitting a crisp sound.

The effects of this enhancement were significant; his strength had increased by at least fifty percent.

Combined with the physical strength he already possessed, which was far beyond that of an ordinary person, he could now easily lift hundreds of pounds—a feat that would not pale in comparison to the militiamen training in the fort.

Martial arts cultivation was divided into: boiling blood realm, blood changing realm, and body forging realm. Qin Meng wasn't entirely sure of the specifics, but even those in the boiling blood realm likely possessed no more strength than this.

Qin Meng looked up at the moonlight. It was already late at night, so he dismissed the idea of practicing archery. He took a cold shower by the well and changed into dry clothes.

Upon entering the house, he saw that the inner room was still lit by an oil lamp.

Shen Qiuyue was mending clothes by that soft, dim light.

"Mengzi, drink this." Seeing him enter, a smile bloomed on Shen Qiuyue's face. She set aside her needlework and brought over a bowl of honey water.

"You shouldn't stay up so late; you should rest earlier."

Qin Meng took it and drank it all, placed the bowl on the table, and pulled Shen Qiuyue's hand toward him. The woman's hand was so rough that it didn't look like it belonged to someone in her early twenties; her palms were covered in thin calluses, and there were several cracks across her knuckles.

Qin Meng felt a pang of heartache. He took out the ointment for chapped hands he had specifically bought during the day and carefully applied it, his movements as gentle as if he were handling fragile porcelain.

"Apply this ointment every night before bed, and the wounds will heal quickly."

Shen Qiuyue kept her head lowered, feeling the warm touch on the back of her hand, her eyes turning red again.

After applying the medicine, Qin Meng turned to leave.

"Mengzi..." Shen Qiuyue suddenly grabbed the corner of his shirt, her pretty face flushed red.

Only then did Qin Meng look closely at the woman. Under the oil lamp, although she was wearing a coarse cloth dress, it could not hide her slender and graceful figure.

Long-term malnutrition had left her complexion somewhat pale, but her features were delicate, and there was a natural gentleness in her brows and eyes.

At this moment, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were glistening with moisture, making her look charming and moving.

He really couldn't understand why his predecessor hadn't appreciated such a good woman, and had even once thought about selling her into a brothel to fund his gambling—it was simply inhuman.

"Sister Qiuyue," Qin Meng stared into her shy gaze and said sincerely, "Once I pay off the debts, I will definitely marry you in a grand ceremony. I will let everyone in the fort know that you are my, Qin Meng's, wife."

Shen Qiuyue's eyes turned red and her lips trembled slightly, but she couldn't speak; she just nodded vigorously.

Under her tearful gaze, Qin Meng turned and left, returning to his own room to collapse onto the bed.

The exhaustion of the day surged like a tide, and he sank into a deep sleep almost instantly.

The night passed without incident.

The next day, before dawn had even broken, Qin Meng crawled out of bed.

After a quick wash, he first rinsed the rice to boil porridge, then headed into the courtyard. Using a piece of leftover charcoal, he drew bullseyes on several wooden stakes, propped them against the wall, and retreated several dozen paces to take up his bow and practice.

Whoosh, whoosh...

One arrow, then another.

As the memories of archery in his mind became increasingly clear, his body's mastery over the bow and arrow grew more refined, and his technique in drawing the bow and nocking arrows became more skillful.

Drawing an arrow, aiming, and releasing—the movements were fluid and natural, growing faster with every repetition.

After firing seven or eight arrows, he would walk over to retrieve them, return to his original position, and continue his practice. Every draw of the bow was steady and powerful.

Qin Meng seemed completely immersed in his archery.

His grasp of the chain arrow technique deepened, and his proficiency steadily climbed.

With his physical constitution reinforced, he felt as though he had an endless supply of energy within him. After practicing for an hour, his arms remained steady, and his breathing was not the least bit disordered.

It wasn't until the sky grew bright that a light, cheerful call rang out from the kitchen.

"Mengzi, time to eat!"

A faint smile hung on the woman's face; she had slept very soundly last night.

Upon waking, she had seen Qin Meng practicing archery in the courtyard. When she went to the kitchen to prepare the porridge, she discovered the clay pot on the stove was already steaming.

This left the woman stunned, her eyes turning red again—this man had truly changed.

The rich, meaty aroma of pheasant pies drifted out, carrying with it a sense of joy.

"Coming!"

Qin Meng smelled the fragrance, and his stomach let out a continuous rumble. He finally put away his bow, returning the arrows to his quiver one by one. Back inside the house, thick millet porridge and chicken pies were already laid out on the table.

Morning light spilled in through the window lattice, illuminating the gentle profile of Shen Qiuyue.