Enduring Seventy Years, Ascension Stairway!

Anxi County, Lin Prefecture, Zhou Kingdom.

The cold wind of the twelfth lunar month cut like a knife.

At the entrance of the Bluestone Martial Academy.

"Old man, I beg you, just let me go in and see Master Liu. I've been stronger than others since I was a child, I've never lost a fight in the village, and everyone says I have the right bone structure—I'm a natural for martial arts!"

"As long as the Master sees me, he will definitely take me as his disciple!"

"Once I achieve success in martial arts, I will never forget your kindness in introducing me!"

A youth in tattered clothes, his face sallow and thin, was pleading bitterly with an old man whose hair and beard were white as snow.

The old man remained silent for a moment, his voice raspy as he said, "Go back. You are over the age limit. The academy's rules only allow for disciples under sixteen."

"But I... I'm only two years over..."

The youth's throat tightened, each word a struggle to utter.

"Go back."

The old man shook his head slowly, saying no more.

The youth stood frozen, his lips parting, before finally leaving with a face full of reluctance.

"Sigh."

Watching the youth's retreating back, the old man let out a soft sigh, a trace of sentimentality flickering in his cloudy eyes.

Once upon a time, he too had been turned away just like that.

The old man's name was Jiang Ye, a transmigrator, though his experience was quite pathetic—he could be called the disgrace of all transmigrators.

When he first arrived, he had assumed that with the experience of two lifetimes, even starting as a bottom-tier commoner, he could reach the pinnacle of life in this strange world.

Then, reality taught him a lesson.

This world revered martial arts, so he wanted to learn them to become someone superior.

However, the tuition fees for martial arts academies were outrageously expensive, far beyond what a commoner could afford.

He tried to find ways to make money first, only to discover that for a commoner at the bottom, there was only one outcome for doing business.

Small-scale operations would see three days of prosperity, but by the fifth day, someone would be watching. If business improved even slightly, local thugs would surround the stall and petty officials would demand bribes.

If one refused to be "sensible," it was common to find their stall smashed and goods scattered overnight.

In those years, he had tried everything and endured every hardship.

By the time he had scrimped and saved enough for the tuition, he was already twenty years old.

At twenty, one's tendons and bones were long since set; he had passed the age for learning martial arts.

No reputable academy would accept such an "overage" disciple—unless one paid extra, a lot of extra.

But where was he to get that kind of money?

Only then did he truly understand that in this world, a commoner without roots or backing had almost no chance of turning their life around.

The days that followed were spent in a daze.

Spring passed and autumn came, years drifted by, until the winter he turned fifty.

That day, he was up in the mountains cutting firewood as usual when he stumbled upon a blood-soaked man in the depths of the withered forest.

The man was covered in wounds, his breath faint, lying among the rocks with only a single thread of life left—it was the man who would later become the master of the Bluestone Martial Academy, Liu Qingshi.

Jiang Ye didn't think twice; he carried the man back to his drafty straw hut, saved his own rations, found medicinal herbs, and tended to him day and night.

After Liu Qingshi recovered, he insisted on rewarding him with a large sum of money.

Jiang Ye shook his head and refused.

Having struggled in this world for decades, he knew too well that for a commoner without power or strength to suddenly become wealthy was like a child carrying gold through a busy market—it would ultimately be a disaster, not a blessing.

Later, Liu Qingshi established himself in Anxi County and opened this Bluestone Martial Academy, and Jiang Ye became the old gatekeeper of the academy.

In the blink of an eye, twenty years had passed.

"Time flies so fast. I'm actually seventy years old already."

Jiang Ye looked down at his wrinkled hands and sighed softly.

Seventy years since he transmigrated, alone and empty-handed.

He had accepted his fate; he just didn't know how many more years he had left to live.

Just then—

A line of small text suddenly appeared before his eyes.

[Fate: Ascension Stairway]
[Effect 1: Transcendental Comprehension—No bottlenecks in martial arts; one day of cultivation is equivalent to a year of hard work by others.]
[Effect 2: Unlocked]

Jiang Ye was stunned.

He blinked.

The handwriting remained.

It was no hallucination.

After a long while, he drew in a breath of cold air, extremely slowly.

On the verge of the grave, and his golden finger finally arrives?!

His hunched spine straightened in an instant.

One day of cultivation equals one year for others...

What did this mean?

It meant that his aging husk, eroded by seventy years of wind and frost, possessed the terrifying potential to reverse the passage of time!

It meant that those bottlenecks and barriers, which were as difficult as ascending to heaven for ordinary martial artists, might become smooth sailing before him!

He had thought that at the ripe old age of seventy, he had reached the end of his life, but now, he had completely ushered in a second spring.

Because in this world, reaching a certain realm in martial arts could extend one's lifespan.

Jiang Ye had once heard Liu Qingshi mention that once martial cultivation reached the True Qi Realm, one could live for two full cycles of sixty years, provided they remained free of illness and disaster.

And with his current cultivation talent, once he began practicing martial arts, let alone the True Qi Realm, even higher and more profound realms would be within reach.

"I need to come up with a good excuse to start practicing martial arts."

Jiang Ye forcibly suppressed the surging excitement in his heart.

He knew that given his relationship with Liu Qingshi, if he proposed wanting to practice, the other party would likely agree.

However, for a seventy-year-old man with one foot in the grave to suddenly ask to learn martial arts was truly bizarre.

Although the two had a deep connection, the system must absolutely not be exposed.

"Uncle Jiang, what are you thinking about, so lost in thought?"

A faint, delicate fragrance wafted from behind, interrupting Jiang Ye's train of thought.

Jiang Ye turned around to see a young girl dressed in a lotus-green fitted martial arts uniform standing a few paces away.

Her skin was as fair as snow, her features as picturesque as a painting, and a white jade hairpin loosely held her dark hair. She was Su Yan, an inner-court disciple of the martial arts hall and the eldest daughter of the Su family in Anxi County.

"Ah, it's Miss Su." Jiang Ye bowed slightly. "Finished your training early today?"

"Yes, we have guests at home, so I'm heading back early."

Su Yan smiled faintly and handed an unopened, exquisite box of pastries to Jiang Ye. "I have extra snacks; if you don't mind, Uncle Jiang, please take them and have a taste."

As a wealthy young lady, she often brought pastries to the martial arts hall to eat with tea, and occasionally, when she practiced too diligently and forgot to eat them, she would give them away to others.

"Miss Su is truly generous!"

Jiang Ye took the mung bean cakes with a beaming smile and watched Su Yan's slender figure depart.

He gently twisted open the box; the pastries were delicately crafted and fragrant. He picked one up and slowly placed it in his mouth, the clear, sweet, and delicate texture melting away.

His thoughts began to stir as well.

He had already decided on his excuse for practicing martial arts.

"There are too many eyes and ears in the martial arts hall right now; I'll wait until it closes to speak."

Jiang Ye felt a sense of calm settle in his heart.

He had endured for seventy years; what was a little more time?

Throughout the afternoon, several more groups of people came seeking martial arts training, all of whom he dismissed with a few words.

Having guarded the gate for twenty years, his eyes had long been honed into the most precise of rulers—whether the applicant's age exceeded the limit, whether their attire and complexion suggested they could afford the hefty tuition, or even whether there was a shred of true determination or merely a desperate gamble in their eyes; a single glance was enough for him to gauge them with near-perfect accuracy.

However, among today's groups, there were several sallow, emaciated outsiders with mixed accents, their eyes filled not just with longing, but with the panic of those who had run out of options.

"Even refugees have found their way to the door of the martial arts hall..."

Jiang Ye leaned against the doorframe, watching the back of the last person as they stumbled away. His brows furrowed involuntarily, and he whispered to himself, "This world is truly becoming less and less peaceful."

He had lived too long and seen too much.

The Zhou Kingdom was currently plagued by frequent natural disasters and rampant banditry, with the common people displaced—these were the signs that the dynasty's fate was nearing its end, and that dragons and snakes were rising to power.

The more chaotic the times, the more important martial strength became.