Reappearance (Please Bookmark)

Rustle, rustle!

Fang Qing's expression was grave, his hands crimson like sharp swords as they continuously plunged into the red sand within the wooden tub.

This sea sand had come from the beach outside the fishing village. It was said to be where some demon beast had wept blood; an entire stretch of beach had turned red, and the color had not faded for a hundred years.

Using this red sand to cultivate the Red Sand Hand allowed progress to advance by leaps and bounds, surpassing many medicinal baths.

Puff, puff!

Beads of sweat appeared on Fang Qing's forehead, yet his hand movements did not change in the slightest.

As sand constantly streamed past his fingertips, the crimson hue on his hands gradually deepened.

"My skill... has deepened by another fraction."

Half an hour later, Fang Qing lay on the ground without the slightest concern for appearances, gulping down great breaths of air.

"The Red Sand Hand can only be cultivated for two hours a day, but after I dissolve its accumulated skill, my body seems able to withstand more. I can train an extra half hour every day..."

This should be one minor convenience of Revert to Root, Return to Origin. Fang Qing silently committed it to memory.

After a brief rest, he rose again, assumed a horse stance, and began cultivating Thousand-Kilogram Drop.

Though these two were merely third-rate martial arts, Fang Qing still treasured them dearly. After all, back in the Fang Family of Three-Water Hollow, there had not been a single martial art to be found.

"Come to think of it... martial arts from the Lesser Vast Sea can actually be used here. Is it because they are too basic, merely involving ordinary bodily exertion and the conversion of force? Or is it the handiwork of the great power behind my cheat?"

Fang Qing had always harbored certain concerns, such as whether the supernatural systems of the two worlds were compatible.

But with the Dao-Born Pearl, it did not really matter.

Besides, he had no choice at all!

"The human body has its limits. Four hours of high-intensity martial training a day must be supported by potent tonics and meat!"

"Not to mention, each of these martial arts has its own limitations. Take the Red Sand Hand—at most, it can be trained for two hours a day. Beyond that, the body cannot endure it..."

"But with my cheat, I can turn the time and experience from cultivating Thousand-Kilogram Drop into that of the Red Sand Hand. It is practically equivalent to doubling my experience points... Of course, it may not convert completely, since they are two different martial arts. If I switched to second-rate or first-rate martial arts, perhaps ten hours spent cultivating a third-rate martial art would only convert into one hour of skill in a first-rate martial art!"

"Besides that, martial arts cultivation also runs into bottlenecks."

Fang Qing silently recorded the ratios and conditions after each of his various conversions, preparing to explore the capabilities of his cheat in the future.

"Now... I can barely be considered capable of protecting myself. I can go look for Uncle."

He looked beyond the mountains and sighed.

Previously, with the mystery of being in the womb and the ignorance of youth, he had not known much.

He only knew that this world was incomparably vast. The Land of Ancient Shu alone exceeded the area of a great nation from his previous life, while Ba Commandery, where the Fang Family was located, contained numerous cities and teemed with people.

"According to what Uncle revealed before, we were planning to flee to Heavenly Prefectural City. It is the nearest major city, and its order is stable... If he was being hunted and had a large sum of money on hand, he would certainly head for a city. Perhaps I can go take a look..."

Heavenly Prefectural City.

The city gates towered high, carrying the mottled traces of time.

After entering the city, the crowds pressed shoulder to shoulder. On both sides of the road stood clothing shops, fabric stores, pawnshops, restaurants, taverns, brothels, rouge and cosmetics shops... all kinds of businesses lined up in dazzling rows, enough to make one's eyes unable to take everything in.

Fang Qing stood at the city gate, looking at the notices and wanted posters one by one, his eyes dimming.

"Uncle never said whom he came here to rely on... This is like fishing for a needle in the sea."

Fortunately, finding someone was only a faint hope during this visit.

Seeing that Uncle was not there, he turned his steps and headed toward the pleasure quarter... toward the restaurant beside it—Heavenly Flavor Tower.

He truly wanted to experience this world's service industry and listen to music in a pleasure house.

But Fang Qing had to admit that the fragrance of wine and food had captured him...

For one who had lived in the wilderness, nothing was more tempting than having a hearty meal. Only when one was full and warm could one think about that sort of thing...

"Wait... children make choices. Adults should... have it all."

Fang Qing turned once more and entered a pleasure house.

"Young master... do you have any familiar ladies in mind?"

A procuress immediately came forward, his face full of ingratiating smiles.

"No. Call over a few ladies to sing for me... and have a fine banquet ordered from Heavenly Flavor Tower next door."

Fang Xing took out a piece of broken silver.

Jade Island did not use silver taels, but a kind of silver seashell. Yet in terms of purchasing power, it was far lower than the currency of Ancient Shu, and Fang Qing did not care much about money.

Having mastered a passage between two worlds, he would sooner or later become the richest man under heaven.

"Delicate white snow beneath a crimson skirt's embrace, endless charm hidden in each supple curve... Within mandarin duck quilts, spring winds are drawn close..."

A short while later, inside the private room, two heavily made-up women sang while casting resentful glances at their guest.

After bathing and changing clothes, Fang Qing now wore a loose green robe. He might not have been a jade tree facing the wind, but he was at least a graceful young man—far better than those decrepit old lechers in their seventies and eighties.

Yet this guest truly only listened to music, not even sparing them a glance.

Of course, Fang Qing would not tell them that, after being influenced by his previous life, though he had never eaten or used such things, his standards were still high.

Besides, something else attracted him even more...

Meat!

Braised pork!

The moment it entered his mouth, it flooded his mouth with rich oil, carrying the fragrant charred scent of freshly cooked food. The rice was steamed fluffy, fragrant, and soft; mixed with the meat gravy, he could absolutely eat three bowls in a row.

There were also tender green vegetables and rich, delicious chicken soup...

The only dish Fang Qing did not care for was the squirrel-shaped mandarin fish. He truly had grown tired of eating fish.

"Within pleasure houses, people from all walks of life gather. They are first-rate places for obtaining information..."

"But... we are only a hundred li apart, and they do not even know that my hometown suffered a plague?"

Fang Qing pondered as he shoveled down rice.

After eating and drinking his fill, he teased the two resentful ladies for a while, declined their invitation to stay the night, and walked out of the pleasure house. Stretching lazily, he said, "This is what life is..."

Unfortunately, he had only asked Old Man Cha for one day off. For the moment, Jade Island still had to take priority.

"It is getting late. Time to leave the city."

Fang Qing walked out through the city gate and headed down a secluded path.

Before long, his brows suddenly furrowed. "Who is it? Come out!"

The moment his words fell, three burly men emerged from the dense forest behind him. The leader had a pockmarked face and held a dagger, a cold smile on his lips. "The old one ran, but the young one is still here."

"Ma Laosan?"

Fang Qing recognized him at once. He was actually Ma Laosan, the leader of that band of refugees who had once surrounded and tried to kill him!

He could not help but be greatly shocked. "How did you find me?"

"Heh heh... I have eyes at the city gate. You brat really walked straight into the net. If you were inside the city, we would still have some scruples. But now..."

Ma Laosan advanced with a savage grin.

"There is something wrong with you, very wrong!"

Yet Fang Qing's expression darkened. "What I have on me is not worth you tracking me for three whole months, is it? Or is there some hidden reason behind this?"

"Hmph!"

Though Ma Laosan was the villain, he did not waste words. He directly charged forward with his men.

If this had been Fang Qing from three months ago, he could only have submitted without resistance.

But now?

Fang Qing's hands turned crimson. In an instant, they split into two palms, like twin dragons emerging from the sea.

Bang, bang!

Two of Ma Laosan's underlings screamed, their chests caving in as they fell backward.

"Hm? You know martial arts!"

Ma Laosan flashed forward. The dagger in his hand darted like a venomous snake flicking out its tongue; he actually knew some crude, three-legged-cat martial arts as well.

Seeing this, Fang Qing's lips curled slightly. His right hand shot out like someone catching fish in water and seized Ma Laosan's wrist holding the dagger.

The next instant, he exerted force beneath his feet. The power of Thousand-Kilogram Drop erupted, and his right foot descended like an iron hammer onto Ma Laosan's instep.

Crack!

A piercing sound of breaking bone rang out.

Ma Laosan's face twisted. He screamed and collapsed to the ground.

"Let's go!"

Fang Qing lifted Ma Laosan and swiftly vanished from sight.

In the wilderness, atop a hill.

Fang Qing casually tossed Ma Laosan aside. "What do you think of this place as your burial ground?"

Though Ma Laosan's face was deathly pale and his forehead was covered in cold sweat from the pain, his expression remained sinister. "I never expected you to have such fine martial arts. I have nothing to say. Death is death... It is only a pity that my family died when bandits unleashed the plague, and I cannot avenge them!"

"Revenge?"

Only then did Fang Qing vaguely recall that Ma Laosan, like him and Uncle, was also a refugee. They had even once been fellow villagers, though not particularly close ones!

"You mean... this plague was a man-made disaster, not a natural calamity?"

His heart suddenly trembled as he thought of his family.

"That's right... I joined the Luo Family, and only then did I learn that we never had to die. It was merely that villains from the Black Blight Sect were practicing Blight Arts in our hometown. That was why the plague spread, leaving nine out of ten households empty... But once we left the range of the Blight Arts, we were naturally unharmed." Ma Laosan gritted his teeth.

"The Black Blight Sect? Practicing Blight Arts?"

Fang Qing already half believed it. Without supernatural powers, there was simply no way to explain why the large group had suffered no plague after leaving the infected region.

"Wait... this concerns immortals. How do you know about it? Did the Luo Family tell you?"

Suddenly, he caught another crucial point. "That Luo Family?"

The Luo Family was a true local powerhouse. In theory, even the Fang Family's Three-Water Hollow and the vast lands surrounding it were all under the Luo Family's control.

Moreover, the Fang Family's annual Moonlit Flow sacrificial vessels had previously all been sold to the Luo Family!

"That's right!" Ma Laosan gave a miserable laugh. "I know I am doomed today, but you will definitely seek revenge against the Black Blight Sect... There is no harm in telling you. I had originally only planned to flee my hometown, but people from the Luo Family found me and told me to keep an eye on several families, including your Fang Family!"

"They were investigating the remnants of our Fang Family? For what?"

Fang Qing was even more puzzled.

"I do not know either. I only overheard a few vague words... They said your Fang Family had a good fate, and after the plague passed, they still needed to continue cultivating something called literary fortune..." Ma Laosan's eyes were also somewhat blank.

"A good fate, cultivating literary fortune?"

Fang Qing silently noted it down. He interrogated Ma Laosan several more times to verify the details, confirming that Ma Laosan had not fabricated anything. Only then did he raise a hand, press it atop the man's crown, and send him on his way.