Reincarnation (Happy New Year!)

Reincarnation

"Sigh..."

Fang Qing spat out a long breath, staring at the bright moon high above the firmament, looking somewhat dazed.

Although the bright moon was still that very same bright moon, he seemed to have... time-traveled!

This really was something he did not know where to begin describing. He remembered that his previous life had not involved any stroke of great luck; it had seemed to be just a regular instance of falling asleep, closing his eyes and opening them only to arrive inside the body of this fifteen or sixteen-year-old youth.

"No... not possession, but rather... reincarnation? Did I just break through the mystery in the womb?"

"What sort of thing is this? Without great luck delivering packages, I cross the nine heavens while asleep?"

The youth wore a blank expression, rubbing the corners of his eyebrows as the memories of the past dozen-plus years welled up in his mind, along with his instinctive native tongue.

Land of Ancient Shu, Ba Commandery, Ba language...

Natural and man-made disasters, displacement, Old Uncle...

Thinking of Old Uncle, a face crisscrossed with gullies and eyes devoid of spirit all day long, revealing only occasionally the shrewdness peculiar to an old farmer, surfaced right before his eyes—it was truly right in front of him!

"Lad, you aren't hurt, are you?"

Old Uncle, who had been leading the way ahead all this time, turned around, a hint of worry in his gaze.

Their ancestral home had suffered a catastrophe, with nine out of ten clansmen perishing, leaving only this single solitary seedling behind.

"Old Uncle... I'm fine."

Fang Qing fell silent, a string of memories surfacing.

The mountain hollow called "Three-Water Hollow" where his family had lived for many years had suddenly been struck by a plague this year, and having become an orphan, he was currently following Old Uncle to flee the disaster.

"If this is an ordinary ancient different world, starting as a refugee might be miserable, but it seems there's still a path of rebellion to take?"

"Yet based on my meager knowledge, the vast majority of ancient peasant uprisings are just cannon fodder paving the way for kings. One has to wait for middle-and-small landlords plus scholars to join before they can amount to anything..."

Fang Qing inwardly muttered complaints to himself. Fortunately, his family had memories to draw upon, and after exchanging a few perfunctory words, Old Uncle did not notice anything amiss.

The two of them lapsed into silence once more, coming to the side of a stream under the moonlight.

The moonlight was hazy, and the stream gurgled along like a jade belt.

"Old Uncle, what are we doing?"

Fang Qing walked over to the water's edge. The early summer stream water was still chilly, faintly reflecting a youth dressed in hemp clothes with some grayish-black grime on his face. Only a pair of eyes shone brightly with great spirit, as if dotting the eyes on a painted dragon.

He had already gradually come to terms with his situation, though he just didn't know why Old Uncle had brought him away stealthily from the main group tonight.

"Hmm, fleeing a plague and yet they still gather together, the key being that nobody in the troupe is falling sick—that's also very strange..."

Fang Qing, possessing modern sanitary knowledge, felt suspicious in his heart.

"What do you know?"

Old Uncle gave a proud chuckle, his expression turning somewhat desolate again. "We fled right out of a plague-ridden land. Even if we reach Heavenly Prefectural City, I'm afraid they won't take us in... We always have to scrape together some travel funds; with money in hand, the heart isn't panicked."

Fang Qing was speechless for a moment. Reality was ten times or a hundred times darker than he had imagined.

Once upon a time, he had thought that escaping a plague-stricken land would be a supreme fortune, and that even if he sold himself to a wealthy household as a tenant farmer, at least he would have a mouthful of food.

Yet he had forgotten... this was an era where wishing to become a slave was unobtainable; even if they wanted to sell themselves, there might not be anyone willing to take them.

What was more, given any choice at all, who would want to kneel and be a servant?

"So..."

Fang Qing looked toward Old Uncle, his eyes lighting up.

His previous memories had been obscured, and having suffered a severe illness as well, he had been muddled and hadn't paid much attention.

Now it seemed that most of his old family's foundation might well be on Old Uncle's person. He truly lived up to being old and wise—ahem, what was that again...

Beneath the moonlight, Old Uncle was seen solemnly taking a package out from his bosom. After the package was opened, there was yet another layer of printed floral cloth, tied with goodness knows how many layers of knots.

It was not until Old Uncle devoutly peeled it back that Fang Qing saw it was... a book?

"This is... the calendar... worshipped in the ancestral hall?"

Fang Qing recognized it. Although this book was mostly tattered and torn, it had always been enshrined at the very highest point of the Fang Family ancestral hall, and he could see it every year during ancestral sacrifices.

In fact, in his memories, whenever there was a major event, the clansmen would come to the ancestral hall, and the elderly clan head would solemnly invite out this worn booklet and flip through it...

Thinking of those faces in his memory, Fang Qing felt a pang in his heart and grew somewhat desolate...

"What calendar? Bah... This is the Immortal Calendar! Do you understand the Immortal Calendar?!"

Old Uncle spat disdainfully, as if the old clan head had possessed him, and reverently opened the "immortal artifact" in his hand.

Fang Qing leaned in closer, rejoicing that he actually knew how to read. This was a big deal; ancient literacy rates were generally low, and since he knew how to read, finding a job as an accountant or scribe in the city would at least ensure he wouldn't starve to death.

He glanced over it and saw that although the pages of this book were old, they were exceptionally neat, clearly handled with great care by all of its successive owners.

And upon the flyleaf, there was a neat line of meticulously written characters:

"The abundance or famine of the years, the movement of the Spirit Atmosphere, the evolution of Yin and Yang—these are merely the trivial achievements of the Year Guardian..."

"[Year Guardian]?"

Fang Qing felt a stir in his heart. Once trapped within the situation, he had not felt anything amiss, but looking at it now, every single word seemed imbued with a great terror, revealing some secret of the world.

The night was tranquil, save for the rustling sound of Old Uncle turning pages.

"Found it!"

Suddenly, his expression lit up with joy as he pointed to a page. "Lad, take a look... The clan head was my second uncle, and I watched him with my own eyes make a mark on this page back then, for fear of forgetting it!"

Old Uncle spoke with a trace of pride. "For our Fang Family to occupy Three-Water Hollow, we do have a heritage!"

Fang Qing felt half-understanding. The clan indeed seemed relatively well-off, actually allowing children of the appropriate age, like himself, to attend literacy school. Such an investment was immense; ordinary peasants facing the earth with their backs to the sky and relying solely on those few meager plots of land certainly could not afford it. Therefore, there must be other sources of income?

Most likely some trade passed down to sons and not daughters... Is it actually recorded in a book? Does Old Uncle want to use it to make money?

Mm, truly a clan's heritage after all...

Fang Qing glanced over and read aloud. "The eight thousand four hundred and twelfth year of Near Antiquity, Neck Metal as Year Guardian, the fourteenth day of the fifth month, favorable for dragons and snakes, suitable for travel, breaking through, gathering Qi... What is this?"

He was startled. This page was written in a calendar format, and he recognized all these characters, but why did they seem somewhat incomprehensible when strung together?

Could it be... cultivation? Are there really immortals in this world?

Fang Qing felt a burning fire in his heart.

"Don't look at those words, they're from a hundred years ago. Look at what later generations added!"

Old Uncle prompted him.

Fang Qing nodded, and sure enough, between the lines of writing on this page, he saw a few more lines of ink. "..Take ancient swords and sabers, on the night of the full moon, immerse them in the stream, and chant the 'Seven-Character Secret Incantation' to obtain a wisp of 'Moonlit Flow'... A hundred wisps become a thread, a hundred threads become a Dao..."

"Good, very good. This is the Qi-Gathering Formula passed down secretly in our Fang Family. This Qi-Gathering Formula is only passed to the clan head; if their whole family hadn't been wiped out by pestilence, it wouldn't have fallen to the two of us."

Old Uncle's face beamed with joy. "The ancestors of our old Fang Family also had immortal affinity. A hundred years ago, they received the Qi Gathering Method taught by an immortal. Every year, they tribute a few swords and sabers containing 'Moonlit Flow,' and the rewards obtained are extremely bountiful. Pity that I didn't know that Seven-Character Secret before... and it's only useful on this single day."

He sighed, unbuckled the ring-pommel saber he had kept close at his waist all this time, and prepared to immerse it in the stream.

So... this is a calendar from a hundred years ago? It's been expired for a hundred years, Big Brother!

An absurd feeling rose in Fang Qing's heart. Is it still any use?

"What Big Brother? I am your Old Uncle!!" Old Uncle glared. "Besides, what's a hundred years? The Great Sun rises and sets, the twelve [Year Guardian|l]s govern the months. These are things that have been constant since antiquity, and they won't change even after a thousand or ten thousand years... The old clan head did this on this exact day every single year, there's no mistake!"

Chanting the true incantation and spells, he devoutly immersed the saber into the stream.

Whether it was his imagination or not, Fang Qing seemed to see wisps of flowing light converging on the blade, resembling human meridians.

"Haha... It worked."

Not knowing how much time had passed, just as Fang Qing's feet were getting a bit sore, he saw Old Uncle raise the rust-stained ancient saber in his hand, his face full of joy. "Taking this to the Luo Family, I can sell it for at least eight or ten taels..."

"This easily gathers a wisp of Moonlit Flow? Why not gather a few more? Or simply amass a hundred wisps, refine them into a thread, or even a thousand wisps to become a Dao?"

Fang Qing was somewhat surprised.

"It won't work. This Qi gathering consumes earth Qi and spiritual essence... Once done, it takes a year or so to recover."

Old Uncle shook his head. "We used to occupy Three-Water Hollow, which has three streams, and we only produce three items a year... Let alone gathering a complete thread or Dao?"

He looked at Fang Qing, let out a sneer, and handed the saber over. "Everyone knows that immortals ingest Qi and cultivate, but you have no magic power... Even if I put it right in front of you, would you know how to 'harmonize Qi'? Even if it finally synthesized into a strand of 'True Qi', could you harvest it?"

No magic power? Then you can't harmonize Qi? Old Uncle, tell me more about immortals. Are there really immortals? More doubts arose in Fang Qing's heart, while he secretly marveled that Old Uncle truly lived up to his reputation of having roamed the outside world and being knowledgeable.

"Of course there are. I even know the first realm of immortals is the 'Breath-Nourishing Realm'!" Old Uncle smiled smugly, then turned somewhat gloomy. "Lad, listen to my advice, immortal affinity is hard to seek... Although our family has the ancestral Qi Gathering Method, without an immortal taking action, it is forever impossible to synthesize a true strand of 'Qi' to step into the Breath-Nourishing Realm... The implements obtained every year can only be sold off."

In other words... to cultivate, one must ingest Qi, but the true "Qi" can only be finished into a product by practitioners?

Fang Qing guessed to himself. To cross the threshold of cultivation, not to mention whether there are aptitude thresholds or cultivation methods, just that most crucial "strand of True Qi" is enough to block quite a few people...

He was somewhat speechless. Without magic power, you cannot synthesize true "Qi"; without Qi, you cannot step into cultivation and forge magic power... Isn't this a self-cultivating dead loop?

According to the experience of past-life novels, shouldn't immortal cultivation involve a cultivation method being widely circulated, and as long as one has spiritual roots, they can practice? Why would it be so troublesome? Turning into a chicken-or-the-egg Möbius strip problem?

Fang Qing shook his head, deciding to set these thoughts aside for now. "Then did our Fang Family's ancestor become an immortal?"

"Of course... he didn't."

Old Uncle shook his head. "That ancestor reportedly lived for two full Jiazi, died of old age without illness, and was not a cultivator..."

Looking at it this way, what my family obtains cannot even be considered immortal affinity, at most being beastly draft horses beneath the immortals...

Fang Qing was speechless. Isn't this just a modern corporate cog? They eat grass and produce milk.

"You can't quite put it that way either..."

Old Uncle also appeared somewhat conflicted. "Sigh... At least our family got a steady yield, with plenty of income every year..."

Fang Qing touched the hard object at his chest, a burning flame igniting in his heart. I must embark on the path of cultivation, look at this higher scenery, and even... behold the secret of the [Year Guardian|l]s!

Since he had finally reached a transcendent world, how could he not pursue eternal life?

Without a doubt, if the Breath-Nourishing Realm was merely the entry level, the twelve [Year Guardian|l]s must have already become "immortals," allowing them to endure and flourish eternally!

Fang Qing instantly felt as though he had acquired a lofty goal.

[Neck Metal|l]? The title of a Year Guardian?

He was still a mere mortal, yet he already knew the name of a great figure of the Immortal Dao, even if it was just an epithet.

Yet when he thought about it, it somehow made a strange kind of sense.

After all, back in the day, he might not have been able to name a single Eagle Nation governor, but he certainly knew who the Eagle Nation president was. Translated over, the logic was identical.

Right at that moment, a sudden change occurred!

"Over here!"

Accompanied by a shout, a large mass of chaotic footsteps rapidly closed in.

"Damn it, it's that mangy dog Ma Laosan!"

Uncle's expression shifted. "Cursed old bastard, he's been keeping his eyes locked on your old man!"

He drew his blade, spun around, and broke into a stride. "We're outnumbered, scatter and run!"