Old Gods

"I can understand it!"

Chen Cheng had originally been utterly illiterate when it came to the words in the letter, but now every one of them was crystal clear to him.

"That Vertical Eye Mark... seems to have seen through the essence of this world's writing... What it gave me wasn't knowledge... but a skill, an ability!"

[Word-Breaking Literacy]: Beginner (0/300)

With a thought from Chen Cheng, the skill information surfaced in his mind once more.

"Beginner... The interface had solidified skill realms. Doesn't that mean..."

"Once proven, proven forever; once gained, gained forever!"

"Hiss—"

"If I used that Vertical Eye Mark to see through the essence of martial arts, then could I also..."

At that thought, he abruptly stopped.

Which way did the Martial Hall's doors open?

How much silver would apprenticeship fees cost?

Sneak in and steal the knowledge? What if he got caught...

More than one bloody rumor flashed through Chen Cheng's mind.

In this world, forget stealing martial arts—even if one merely stole a common craft used to make a living, getting caught meant there would be no good end.

Even throwing away his own rotten life might not be enough. Worse still, he might drag his mother down with him.

It was as though sparks had scorched Chen Cheng's eyes. They flared brightly for an instant, then swiftly dimmed again.

"A-Cheng? What are you thinking about?"

Seeing Chen Cheng stay silent for so long, with his eyes flickering between light and dark, Madam Li could not help worrying.

"...Nothing."

Chen Cheng steadied himself and swiftly swept his gaze over the few lines on the letter, written by someone else in wording that was almost like an official notice.

"You learned to read at the trading firm?" Madam Li asked.

"...A little."

Chen Cheng's voice caught. Only after steadying his emotions did he continue.

"I still can't make sense of it... I'll keep this letter for now and ask someone to look at it later."

"Mm, let's head back."

Madam Li nodded, not noticing anything amiss. In this world, learning to recognize characters was hard, and comprehending written text was even harder.

Back then, the Chen family had spent no small amount of money and effort to support Chen Hao's studies, yet wasn't he still only half-baked? He had not even reached the threshold for the Scholar Selection.

Chen Cheng folded the letter and tucked it into his clothes.

Yet the words on it kept surfacing in his mind.

—Chen Shi voluntarily requested entry into the Death Squad Camp. His loyalty and courage are commendable. The Captain has specially awarded him ten taels of silver in recognition of his resolve. Enclosed with this letter is a military voucher, which may be used to exchange for cash silver at the officially designated banks in the cities of the Northern Border.

It was not that Chen Cheng could not understand it. He simply could not say it.

What sort of place was the Death Squad Camp? A man as honest as his father—honest to the point of being somewhat timid—had crashed into it. His ending spoke for itself.

Whether his father had truly volunteered, Chen Cheng did not know.

But he knew very clearly that saying any of this now would be meaningless. It would only make his mother worry day and night, letting fear damage her health.

As for those ten taels of reward silver...

In this world, one tael of silver could be exchanged for a thousand copper coins. Ten taels meant ten thousand coins.

After deducting the gang's extortion and all the harsh levies and miscellaneous taxes, the remainder was probably not enough for martial arts training.

But it would be enough for him and his mother to scrape by at the lowest standard of living for around two years, instead of going without their next meal after finishing the last, as they did now.

This was unquestionably life-saving money, yet it had been sent to the old family home.

Chen Hao could read, and his temperament took after his mother's. How could he possibly pass up such ready-made gain?

The key was that Chen Hao had already entered a Martial Hall.

Chen Cheng did not need to think to know.

If he rashly went to demand it back, not only would he likely fail to recover the money, he would probably suffer another round of humiliation.

There would be no benefit at all. Instead, he would only make the other side more wary of him.

For now, he could only chew this anger to pieces and swallow it down raw.

But this debt would be settled sooner or later!

"Well, well, Xiaocheng's back?"

The mother and son had just returned to Bitter Locust Village when a woman's voice suddenly rang out from afar, her volume cranked high.

"That's right, Aunt Zhang."

Madam Li forced a smile.

"You're still working at Yongsheng Trading Firm, right?"

Aunt Zhang carried a battered wooden bucket and eagerly hurried over.

Several more women with rolled-up sleeves followed behind her.

Their frostbitten hands all held wooden buckets stuffed with clothes. Clearly, they had just returned from washing laundry at the Old Well at the East End.

"Yongsheng Firm? That's a major establishment, an iron rice bowl!"

"Tsk, Xiaocheng really has promise!"

"If my Goudan had even half that ability, I'd laugh myself awake at night!"

"Aunt Zhang's Xiaoxu apprenticed at the Weapon-Forging Shop to learn a trade. When he finishes learning, that'll be the real day he rises above it all!"

"The Zhou Family's Xiao Long is even more capable. At such a young age, he already made a name for himself in the Clear River Gang. Now he's even a Martial Artist, one of the masters!"

Bitter Locust Village had no shortage of women like them, women who survived by mending and washing clothes for others.

The work was scattered and scarce, with too many monks and too little porridge. Secretly competing over a pile of clothes or a few copper coins was commonplace.

As time passed, they developed such habits between themselves.

Their mouths were warm and flattering, but their eyes hid probing and calculation. Which family was powerful, who could be bullied—word would spread throughout Bitter Locust Village in no time.

Usually, they got along peacefully enough, smiling face to smiling face.

But once true interests were touched, the scales in everyone's heart immediately tipped.

Whom to flatter, whom to trample, which soft persimmon to squeeze—they knew perfectly well.

Chen Cheng politely greeted them one by one.

Their smiles remained unchanged, but their gazes intentionally or otherwise flicked toward the meager bundle of dry firewood and wild vegetables in Chen Cheng's hands.

The eyes of two particularly sharp-minded women had already filled with suspicion.

"Are you all fucking lying around here playing dead?!"

A vicious bellow suddenly rang out. From the bend in the alley, a burly figure slowly emerged and approached.

The man wore the Black Wolf Gang's distinctive gray-black short outfit, his lapels hanging open to reveal a hairy chest and a savage old scar.

"Instead of wasting your time chewing maggots, why don't you go find more work! Let me tell you—"

His face was broad and flat, his eyes fierce, and a stalk of grass hung crookedly from the corner of his mouth.

"Seven more days, and it'll be time to pay this month's Peace Tax again. Same old rule: thirty copper coins for every breathing person!"

"If anyone dares come up even one coin short, or drag their feet..."

He gave a grin that did not reach his eyes, exposing a mouthful of blackish-brown rotten teeth.

"I'll even spare you the beatings and curses from before. I'll just find a rope, strangle you to death, and sell you to Red Moon Nunnery!"

At those words, the women all fell silent as cicadas in winter. They hunched their necks, grabbed their buckets, and fled, not even daring to breathe loudly.

Madam Li trembled as she called, "Lord Scar," then hurriedly pulled Chen Cheng away.

This man was nicknamed Scar Bear, a Black Wolf Gang leader. He collected the Peace Tax from more than twenty households nearby.

In the past, Chen Cheng and Madam Li had always paid their Peace Tax on time, so he had not come looking for trouble.

But now, Chen Cheng's rice bowl had shattered, while Madam Li's income from odd jobs was extremely unstable.

Seven days later... if they could not hand over sixty copper coins...

Madam Li's face had already turned deathly pale, her legs going weak.

Chen Cheng's heartstrings were equally taut, yet his mind remained calm. His thoughts raced as he searched for a way to break the deadlock.

After returning home.

Madam Li carried the small stove to the doorway, lit a fire, and tossed some torn wild vegetables into the half bowl of bran soup left over from noon.

Once the soup began boiling, Madam Li claimed she was not hungry. Only after Chen Cheng insisted did they each drink a mouthful.

Most wild vegetables were bitter, astringent, and cold in nature, so they dared not eat too much.

The tiny bit of bran at the bottom of the bowl was not even enough to fill the gaps between one's teeth. It was coarse and scratched the throat going down, carrying a stale smell that was almost moldy.

Bran did not count as food at all. Outside the slums, this was what livestock ate.

No, even livestock ate better than this.

When Chen Cheng had worked at the trading firm, the fodder he mixed for those Peak Horses skilled at mountain roads had to include salt, cornmeal, and beans. Every so often, eggs were even added.

Unfortunately, the steward watched closely. If any laborer dared steal a bite, getting caught meant losing a full month's wages.

Chen Cheng had worked there for three years, yet he had never dared take even a single bean from the feeding trough.

But perhaps it was precisely because of that near wooden honesty that he had kept his job until today. Even after the goods were robbed, that beautiful Proprietor had not made things difficult for him.

"...That fucking Laitou!"

Thinking of this, Chen Cheng cursed the culprit who had cost him his rice bowl and nearly his life once more.

This grudge had to be repaid!

Yet the greatest problem blocking his path remained...

Money!

Saving enough for the Martial Hall's apprenticeship fee was a distant prospect. The Black Wolf Gang's Peace Tax was pressing close at hand. Even he and his mother's next bowl of gruel had not been secured.

This world... the Yellow Springs were packed full, and every road in the human realm was cut off!

Hard!

Too hard!

"Wait! If there's no way forward in this world... why not seek a way out from my past life?"

A flash of inspiration struck Chen Cheng.

"That Vertical Eye Mark only needs to 'see' something to see through it... So long as the images in my memories are clear enough... couldn't it 'see' them just as clearly?"

Chen Cheng closed his eyes.

Deep within his Past Life Wisdom, the god sealed beneath dust opened its eyes.

[Health-Preserving Taiji Fist]: Beginner (0/300), Traits (None), Limit Break (No)

In his past life, he had competed furiously at school and competed even harder at work. His health had never been particularly good.

He had wanted to learn Health-Preserving Taiji to strengthen his body, but like most workhorses and cattle, after getting off work he only wanted to weld himself to the bed.

He held his phone and studied through the cloud. The result was...

Mind: I'm terrifyingly strong now.

Body: Uh... uh...

His past life had been just like that. But just as Chen Cheng had expected, his Past Life Wisdom was fresh. Those fragmented memories once forgotten were now exceptionally clear and complete.

The Vertical Eye Mark instantly saw through the essence of it and bestowed this Health-Preserving Taiji Fist upon Chen Cheng in the form of a skill and ability.

In the blink of an eye, he had reached Beginner.

"It worked!"

Chen Cheng abruptly opened his eyes, unable to suppress the flicker of excitement within them.

He immediately shut his own broken wooden door, which leaked wind from every crack, and directly assumed a stance inside the room.

The indoor space was cramped. If it were any other martial art, he might not have had room to use it.

But Health-Preserving Taiji emphasized the smooth circulation of Perfect Harmony within a space no larger than one's reach, so it suited the place perfectly.

"A-Cheng, what are you..." Madam Li was somewhat surprised.

"I learned a few Health Preservation moves at the trading firm..."

Chen Cheng said, "Mother, you can practice along with me too. It'll be good for your health."

Madam Li sat at the edge of the bed, silently shaking her head with a soft sigh.

"The more I move, the quicker I get hungry... Mother needs to save her strength and find a way to take on more work..."

Hearing that, Chen Cheng felt terrible. He had wanted to say a few comforting words, to share her burden, but in the end he did not speak. Ten thousand pretty empty words were not worth one solid step forward.

He drew a deep breath and suppressed his stray thoughts.

Within that dark, cramped room, he slowly began to practice the Health-Preserving Taiji.