Life-Stealing System

The sixteenth year of King Zheng of Qin, southern outskirts of Yang City County.

The blazing sun scorched the earth. Waves of heat rose from the fields, rolling and surging like lapping tongues of flame, twisting distant mountains into shifting mirages.

Sweat the size of beans pattered onto the yellow earth. The boy, clad in coarse hemp, had his shirt hanging open as his dark, muscular arms swung a hoe, head bent over the weeds in the field.

[You killed a foxtail grass plant and stole two days of its life!]

[You killed a Wild Barnyard Grass plant and stole one day of its life!]

[You killed a Ten-Thousand Root Grass plant and stole two days of its life!]

[...]

[You killed a millet plant and stole ten days of its life!]

Zhao Cheng, who had been hard at work with his head down, started in alarm. He hurriedly crouched to inspect the millet seedling he had "killed by mistake," feeling a pang of regret.

He had planted every one of those millet seedlings with his own hands. Now they had sprouted ears, and all that remained was to wait for them to ripen and harvest them. Yet he had accidentally stolen their lives.

Those ten days of life meant little to him, but grain was far too important. It was the main source of income and food for commoners like him.

After taxes, the grain he had left was nowhere near enough to feed him. He had to scrimp and save, and rely on his uncle's help, just to get by.

He was fifteen, right at the age when he was growing. He was also tall and powerfully built, and ate far more than a normal adult man.

One had to know that, for a long period before this, Qin had considered a height of six chi and five cun—about 1.5 meters—the standard for adulthood. Zhao Cheng was already seven chi and five cun tall, or 1.73 meters, making him taller than many adult men.

For that, he had not only his system to thank, but also his uncle, whose household was nearly drained by the food Zhao Cheng ate.

"In this world, people can't even get enough to eat. What good is a long life?"

The boy straightened up, his tall, slender frame standing erect like a spear. His open collar revealed a strong chest and abdomen, and sunlight glinted off his sweat-slicked skin, giving it the sheen of steel.

[Host: Zhao Cheng]

[Current lifespan: 109 years, 3 months, 17 days (can be invested in deductions and the cultivation of martial arts)]

[Current martial art: Basic Body Refining Technique (Flesh Refining, minor mastery)]

Zhao Cheng stared at the panel for a while, but in the end, he resisted the urge to invest more lifespan in cultivating the Basic Body Refining Technique.

His mother had died three years ago, leaving him to shoulder the burden of a hundred mu of household land all by himself at such a young age. Feeling overwhelmed, he had unexpectedly awakened the system. In his excitement, he had invested ten years in cultivating the Basic Body Refining Technique all at once.

After that cultivation, his physical abilities had soared. He was stronger than a calf, his stamina seemed endless, and he had grown considerably taller.

But his appetite had grown along with them. The little food at home could barely fill a gap in his teeth. Fortunately, his uncle had helped him, and he had managed to weather the crisis.

Since then, besides farming and working odd jobs, he had often gone into the mountains to hunt game. He was so busy he barely had time to breathe, and only just managed to keep himself fed.

Of course, he still rarely got a full meal, so he looked a little lean. When he moved, the twisted, interwoven fibers of his muscles could even be seen.

But there were benefits, too. He could easily tend those hundred mu of fields alone, and still had enough energy to work his uncle's land as well as help out at other people's homes.

He juggled several jobs and was still full of life, earning himself a reputation as the Little Iron Man of the surrounding villages.

"I'll practice martial arts once I can afford to eat my fill. Farming alone definitely won't get me anywhere. But I was born in Qin, where I won't lack chances to make something of myself."

Zhao Cheng raised his hoe once more and continued clearing the weeds.

Over the years, he had also figured out which dynasty and place he had ended up in.

The sixteenth year of King Zheng of Qin, southern outskirts of Yang City County, Sanchuan Commandery, Qin State. Huaiyang Village.

In this era, no other state could break through class barriers and offer a chance to rise to prominence as well as Qin.

After Shang Yang's reforms, Qin had adopted the twenty-rank military merit system. Rank was awarded according to military achievements, along with land, a residence, and servants. Those granted rank could also enjoy exemption from punishment and an extraordinary social standing.

Moreover, in the army, merit was always rewarded. The system was extremely fair.

These were also the years when Qin, a war machine of farmers and soldiers, was rapidly starting up, rumbling along the glorious road toward destroying the six states and unifying the realm.

As long as Zhao Cheng could join the army, he would have nothing to hold him back. He could freely invest his lifespan in martial arts, then campaign across the land, killing to steal lifespans.

With that, he would cut his way through all twenty ranks of military merit, stepping over mountains of corpses to become a general and win a title of nobility!

But before that, one enormous obstacle stood in his way—he was too young.

It had been easier in the past. To register for military service, all that mattered was whether one had reached six chi and five cun in height. But in this period, age was the main requirement, with height as a secondary consideration. On top of that, his uncle was firmly opposed, so Zhao Cheng could not force his way into the army.

"It's the sixteenth year of King Zheng of Qin. A great war will break out in the next couple of years. I have to find a way to enlist as soon as possible."

As he thought, Zhao Cheng worked faster. It did not take long for him to clear all the weeds, and his lifespan increased by another year and seven months.

He got up, slung his hoe over his shoulder, and walked toward the village along the path between the fields, calculating as he went.

"One weed only gives me a few days of life, while a grain stalk can give me ten days or even more. Cutting down a tree only gives me a little over twenty days, but a wild rabbit can provide anywhere from two to three months. A wild wolf gives even more. After I killed that wolf, it gave me more than half a year..."

"By that logic, the lifespan I steal must depend on the quality of the life. I wonder if killing someone like myself would let me steal their lifespan at a one-to-one ratio..."

He had not walked far and had yet to enter the village when a boy in fine hemp clothes approached him. The moment he spotted Zhao Cheng, his eyes lit up.

"Little Iron Man, have you made up your mind? Sell me that Jade Ring, and you can take a year off instead of working so hard in the fields."

Zhao Cheng looked at him, feeling rather helpless.

This was Niu Ergui, the second son of the wealthy villager Niu Zhang. He was a year older than Zhao Cheng, and they had grown up together. Though his family was better off, the boy had thin arms and legs and looked like a bamboo stalk that would topple in a gust of wind.

Ever since he had seen Zhao Cheng's Jade Ring pendant as a child, he had become almost obsessed with it, constantly saving up to buy it.

After Niu Ergui had brought it up, Zhao Cheng stopped wearing the Jade Ring. But the boy had a good memory. From the age of seven or eight until now, he had kept saving and asking Zhao Cheng whether he would sell it whenever he had scraped together a little more money.

After seven or eight years of never spending a thing, the boy had somehow managed to save a whopping five hundred coins—and had come to ask again.

To put that in perspective, a shi of millet cost only ten coins. Zhao Cheng's hundred mu of land produced only a hundred shi a year, and thirty shi went to taxes. What remained wasn't even enough to eat, never mind save any money.

Yet this boy had managed to squeeze five hundred coins out of his father. You had to hand it to him.

But admiration aside, Zhao Cheng was no fool. His Jade Ring pendant was a family heirloom. Before his mother died, she had repeatedly warned him to keep it safe. It had to do with his origins and that good-for-nothing father of his.

Although Zhao Cheng had no interest in the father who had abandoned his wife and child, he still had to listen to his mother. Besides, the Jade Ring looked incredibly precious. Forget five hundred coins—even if the offer were ten or a hundred times higher, he still couldn't sell it.