Chapter 2

Xue Mu woke in a daze, his eyes still difficult to open. He could feel himself lying on a soft couch, a faint fragrance lingering beneath his nose, while the sound of wheels rolling along a mountain road reached his ears amid wave after wave of jolting.

So he was inside a carriage...

A young girl's voice rang out, crisp and pleasant. "Master, have some tea. Don't overtax yourself."

Xue Mu's professional instincts immediately told him that this voice was clear and ethereal, full of potential. Even if she could not sing, she would be absolutely perfect as a voice actress. Come to think of it, what dynasty was this? They actually spoke Mandarin, though it seemed to carry some unknown accent—soft and sweet, exceedingly pleasant to hear.

Another woman's voice sounded. "Thanks to that idiot Feng Lieyang, eighty percent of our foundation in the Southern Region has been destroyed. Forget any grand plans—if we do not find a solution soon, the entire sect will sooner or later eat itself into bankruptcy. Your martial uncle is still trapped in the Six Fan Gates awaiting rescue, and that will take mountains of silver too. How can your master possibly set her mind at ease?"

This voice was lovely too, carrying an indescribable charm that made his ears tingle.

Xue Mu finally managed to force his eyes open. Turning his head slightly, he saw a young married woman sitting cross-legged nearby, her cloudlike hair gathered loosely, her eyes like autumn waters. She held a book in her hands, and through the gauze draping her side profile, one fleeting glimpse like a startled swan was enough to make Xue Mu suck in a quiet breath.

This woman was gorgeous... Were these the two he had seen bathing before he fell into the water? Damn it, what a waste. Neither of them seemed to have been wearing clothes then, but he had not seen a thing clearly!

A girl in white was angrily waving her little fist. "The next time I see Feng Lieyang, I'll personally cut that thing of his off and send him away to be a catamite!"

"Now is not the time to pursue responsibility... If you have that much energy, you might as well help your master calculate the accounts."

The girl's fist froze in midair. "Uh... what accounts?"

"Last month, the Hundred Flowers Garden in the Capital City lost 1,320 taels. The Rouge Workshop in Ling Province lost 415 taels. The Fragrance Seeking Studio in Wu Province made a profit of 74 taels... How much did we lose in total last month?"

"..." The girl quietly retreated step by step. Her eyes rolled round and round, and her awkward appearance made Xue Mu want to laugh.

"You really think that cultivation alone can support an entire sect? Sooner or later, you will have to shoulder these matters yourself. What use is running away?"

"Well... haha... Oh, right, Master, I just remembered I haven't done my morning lessons yet. I'll go cultivate first..."

"Stop right there! Go fetch the counting rods for your master first!"

Xue Mu finally spoke. "No need to get the counting rods. The total loss is 1,661 taels."

The girl looked at Xue Mu curiously, blinking her large eyes a few times before smiling. "Blustering the moment you wake up—that's no good. Just wait!" She had seemed too lazy to fetch any counting rods, but Xue Mu's immediate answer piqued her curiosity. She actually scampered out with a pitter-patter.

Xue Mu still felt pain all over his body. He sat up with some difficulty and gave the young married woman a slight bow. "Thank you, Madam, for saving—"

Before he could finish expressing his gratitude, the woman abruptly turned her head. The autumn-water softness in her eyes, even the trace of sorrow within them, vanished in an instant, replaced by sharpness and icy cold. Divine light burst forth.

Xue Mu felt as if her gaze itself contained some immense power. The blood and qi within his body churned chaotically, and he could not help coughing up another mouthful of blood, horrified.

What the hell was this—killing with a look? Was that not a little too outrageous?

The divine light in the woman's eyes receded. Frowning, she muttered to herself, "There truly isn't a thread of cultivation in him? How is that possible?"

Seeing Xue Mu unable to speak as his blood and qi roiled, she pondered for a moment before saying indifferently, "Who are you? How did you appear out of thin air in midair? And what is this strange poison within your body?"

Xue Mu was thoroughly baffled by the question. "What strange poison could I possibly have?"

"You carry more than a thousand kinds of toxins, along with a contagious source of plague. You are practically a plague-ridden man. Speak. Who are you, and what is your purpose?"

Xue Mu stared blankly for a long while, then muttered, "A walking periodic table?"

He carried all kinds of epidemic viruses, many of them mutated, which simply did not exist in ancient times. Add to that a body raised on gutter oil, poisonous milk powder, and all manner of additives... Someone had once said that if modern people were flattened, they would form a complete periodic table of chemical elements. If one traveled through time to ancient days, one's own body would become a moving source of plague. Was that actually true?

He had absolutely no idea how to explain this. He scratched his head for a long time, left speechless, before finally asking in return, "Does Madam have a way to solve this problem of mine?"

The woman nearly laughed from anger. "You truly aren't polite at all."

Xue Mu said, "Could it be that Madam wishes to obtain a method of creating plague-ridden people like me?"

The woman's smile faded, and cold light rose in her eyes again. "You are very clever."

Xue Mu secretly thought that this master and disciple pair really were no good people. Shaking his head, he said, "I'm afraid Madam will be disappointed. My condition is one of a kind. You will absolutely be unable to reproduce a second one."

The woman said lazily, "Since you refuse to speak, then go die."

As she spoke, she raised a hand, about to strike down. Xue Mu hurriedly shouted, "With just me alone, I can already help Madam create a plague!"

The woman's beautiful eyes flickered. She pondered briefly, then slowly lowered her palm, seemingly considering how best to make use of this plague-ridden man.

At that moment, Chan'er came rushing in with a cheerful patter. "Master, I brought the counting rods."

Xue Mu was drenched in cold sweat. That had truly been a hair's breadth between life and death. This woman was definitely a fiend who killed without blinking. She had actually been considering a venomous scheme like using a biochemical plague. She had clearly saved him only because the poisons in his body had made her curious, and because she felt he might be useful. It had never been out of kindness. The moment she found him useless, he would die without even knowing how.

Xue Mu was, after all, someone who had held a managerial position. How could he willingly let his life be held in another's hand, used by a woman as a tool for plague? While the master and disciple were temporarily ignoring him, Xue Mu secretly sought a way to seize the initiative.

His gaze fell upon the bundle of counting rods. This actually seemed like a viable opening? Looking at those strange wooden slips, he was powerless to mock them. Not being able to calculate such simple addition and subtraction mentally was already stupid enough. Even if they needed a tool, they could at least use an abacus. What kind of nonsense were counting rods? These women were formidable in combat, but their education did not seem all that impressive...

Come to think of it, whether this was a martial arts world or a fantasy world, it was obviously a world where strength reigned supreme—the kind where martial power was honored above all else. As a modern man, why should he compete with them in brute strength, endlessly suffering through cultivation and leveling up? Would that not be abandoning his strengths and using his weaknesses to clash against the natives' strengths? Why bother...

Their calculations of profit and loss showed that they still needed food, clothing, shelter, and transportation. They still sought the sect's development. They were neither fasting immortals nor people single-mindedly pursuing eternal life. In that case, a modern man still had plenty of room to maneuver in this society...

Just as he was thinking, Chan'er suddenly cried out in surprise. "It really is 1,661 taels!"

There was some surprise in the woman's eyes as well. She turned to look at Xue Mu, and there was now a little more respect in her expression for someone capable. She no longer looked at him as though he were an ant. Xue Mu met her gaze calmly and smiled faintly. "If developing the sect is more important to Madam than creating plagues, then perhaps the role I can play may far exceed Madam's imagination."