Closed-Door Nunnery

Wu Pifu... had never liked that name.

Whether it was the pifu from "an ant shaking a tree," or the homophonous Commoner, he disliked both.

At first, he thought his parents were uneducated. But as he grew older, he learned that both of them were highly educated and had successfully built their own business. People like that could not possibly lack learning.

"Whether it's an ant shaking a tree or a commoner's wrath, those are the meanings behind the name I gave you. You may not understand now, but you'll definitely understand when you grow up."

During one summer vacation in high school, Wu Pifu had asked about his name, and his father had answered like some cryptic riddle-maker.

Unfortunately, he never got to grow up...

In his third year of college, he was diagnosed with ALS, a disease that was still terminal even in the twenty-first century. And it progressed rapidly. In less than a year, he could only breathe with the help of a ventilator.

He thought he was going to die.

His parents tried everything. They found every expert they could, went to every research institution they could reach, but the answer was always the same: there was nothing to be done.

In 2026, when he was twenty-three, he was placed into cryoprotective fluid.

"We want you to live. Even if it's in the distant future, with no family, no friends, and no home of your own, we still want you to live, son. Because only the living have hope..."

When he opened his eyes again, it was already 2877, after the Fourth World War...

The war between the Human Revolutionary Union and the Earth Unified Government had pushed the Moon toward Earth, then pushed Jupiter toward the Sun. The entire Solar System was no longer fit for humanity to inhabit or develop. Left with no choice, humanity had poured the strength of its entire race into building its mother ship, Gaia.

Its destination was Kepler-186f.

About five hundred light-years from Earth, humanity planned to reach that star system in eight thousand years. It was then that Wu Pifu had been revived by the human government from a heap of abandoned junk...

Wu Pifu abruptly opened his eyes. His dream had just recalled the time after he was revived, when the astronomical medical bills had forced him to sign a maintenance worker contract that was practically a contract of servitude. He had to perform maintenance work in his assigned Z-117-6123 district, one of Gaia's twenty-six major zones, for two thousand years before he qualified to enter the Dream United World as a citizen of the human government and sleep until eight thousand years later, when he could begin his new life on Kepler-186f.

Before him were dim, old wooden beams. The surrounding walls were grayish-black and made of wood as well. The room was poorly ventilated and smelled damp and moldy. There was almost no light, only a half-covered window and a wide-open door.

Wu Pifu slowly shifted his body and discovered that he was lying on a tattered straw mat. It was covered in droplets of water, leaving his back cold and wet.

But...

He had survived, after all.

Realizing that, Wu Pifu let out a long breath.

Pain wracked every part of his body, especially his broken left arm, which hurt so badly that merely shifting earlier had nearly made him pass out.

He lay on the broken straw mat for more than ten seconds, slowly circulating a small amount of blood and qi before he barely managed to sit up. The moment he did, he was startled. A dark figure stood in the doorway. With the light behind them, he could not make out who it was, and every muscle in his body immediately tightened, blood seeping from his wounds.

The shadow hurried toward him. Only then did Wu Pifu see that it was a thin, small woman with ash-gray skin. From her movements and expression, she was clearly not a Nightmare, and he finally relaxed.

The woman wore a patched gray hemp garment and held a chipped, rough clay bowl. She hurried to Wu Pifu's side and squatted down, inspecting the bloodstains on him and the wound on his left arm.

In a hoarse voice, Wu Pifu said, "Did you save me? Thank you..."

The woman said nothing. Her face was dark and ashen, making it difficult for Wu Pifu to see clearly. He only saw her offer him the bowl in her hands.

Wu Pifu paused, then struggled to raise his right arm and take the rough clay bowl. Looking inside, he saw that it was more than half full of thin porridge.

Wu Pifu fell silent for a moment, then raised the bowl and began gulping down the porridge. It tasted faintly sweet. His throat was dry enough to smoke, and hunger had left his stomach aching. That mouthful of porridge felt like heavenly nectar. Though there were bits of sand and grit in it, he still drained the entire bowl in great gulps.

Only then did Wu Pifu put down the bowl and solemnly say to the woman, "A life-saving kindness cannot be repaid with words. I'll remember this!"

The woman tugged at the corners of her mouth as if trying to smile, but it came out stiff and awkward. Her smile looked rigid, almost troubled.

Only then did Wu Pifu notice a bruise at the corner of her mouth. Without saying anything more, he told her, "I may need to stay here for a day or two. Would that be convenient?"

At that, the woman first nodded, then shook her head, but still did not say a word.

Wu Pifu knew she understood him. Any language he spoke would be converted by the Main Brain into words the other party could understand. Ever since the Main Brain's latest permission upgrade, he could even converse with Level 1 Nightmares. This woman likely had a problem with her voice—perhaps she was mute...

Wu Pifu stood up and slowly walked toward the door. The woman seemed to want to stop him, yet she was too timid to reach out. Ignoring that, Wu Pifu walked to the doorway and looked outside. Beyond it was a fairly spacious but somewhat dilapidated courtyard. The ground was muddy and strewn with broken stone slabs. Judging from the overall structure, this seemed to be a temple. Combined with the woman's clothing, it was perhaps some kind of nunnery.

(Ancient times? Baseline Reality 0.7...)

Wu Pifu was no longer a newcomer. He had long known what Baseline Reality 0.7 meant.

Baseline Reality was the Dream World classification standard established by the Main Brain.

In Baseline Reality 1.0, the Dream World was no different from the real world. There were no supernatural abilities, no deviations in history, and its geography, planets, and physical laws were identical to those of the material world. It could even match a particular action taken by a particular person in a particular era. That was Baseline Reality 1.0.

Starting from Baseline Reality 0.9, however, deviations began to appear between the Dream World and reality.

For example, in the early Three Kingdoms period, it might be Ding Yuan entering the capital rather than Dong Zhuo, or Zhu Yuanzhang might be named Niu Yuanzhang.

Special supernatural powers would also begin to appear. For example, Wu Pifu's Tiger Demon Art had been acquired in a Baseline Reality 0.9 world, where it was known as National Arts.

But in Baseline Reality 0.9, there generally would not be excessively massive deviations, and the power system would not be too outrageous.

By 0.8, things such as corpse drivers and Miao clan gu poison would begin to appear.

As for Baseline Reality 0.7...

According to what the veterans had told him, when their group had been at its largest, they had indeed entered Baseline Reality 0.7 worlds. Inside, people could draw talismans, summon ghosts, invoke divine possession, or use things from Western civilization such as holy arts, druidism, and magic. As for world history, the major dynasties generally remained unchanged, but specific emperors and the lifespans of dynasties could differ. For example, Emperor Taizu of Song might not die suddenly, or Emperor Xuanzong of Tang might kill An Lushan first.

Likewise, the Nightmares in Baseline Reality 0.7 worlds were terrifying enough to make one tremble even if they were only Level 1 Nightmares. Their terror was likely comparable to Level 2 Nightmares in Baseline Reality 0.9!!

And this was Baseline Reality 0.7 in an ancient Dream World...

(That Level 2 Nightmare definitely followed me here. Less than ten seconds passed between my entering the random Dream World and its activation. It won't let me go. But this is Baseline Reality 0.7, so it'll be heavily suppressed and weakened. It'll probably become something like a fox immortal or a wandering ghost, and its strange powers will be greatly diminished.)

Wu Pifu had formed some calculations and ideas. Turning to the woman, he said, "Don't worry. I know Buddhism has strict rules and precepts. I absolutely won't offend them. I only need to hide here for a day or two. I... have enemies pursuing me. Please save me, Master."

The woman immediately began waving her hands, looking extremely anxious, but she could not utter a single word.

Wu Pifu could tell she was not trying to drive him away, so he merely nodded and did not press her. Right there at the doorway, he bent his knees slightly and took a deep breath.

Stance training!

Naturally, the Tiger Demon Art had a complete set of training methods.

The Tiger Demon Art Wu Pifu had acquired was a complete martial art, not the sort where half was taught and half withheld. It included all three sets of methods: training, nurturing, and combat. What he was using now was the Still Tiger Crouching Stance Art from the nurturing methods, circulating his blood and qi to heal his internal injuries.

In the National Arts system, there was a saying: "Practice martial techniques without cultivating skill, and all is wasted by old age." That skill referred to the nurturing methods.

Wu Pifu's National Arts had come from the initial completion reward options for his Level 1 Sanctuary. It was a complete martial art, naturally free from the drawbacks of sect secrets and rules like teaching sons but not daughters.

Not only ancient people—even modern people of the twenty-first century, and even humanity of the new era in 2877—would not pass all their knowledge and insights on to outsiders. Public education was one thing; family teachings were another. That was why many people who learned National Arts never gained access to the most crucial nurturing methods.

National Arts were arts of killing, completely unlike martial arts routines. They emphasized fighting at arm's length, facing a nation's worth of enemies alone, and killing the moment one struck. The phrase "killing men like cutting grass" described National Arts.

It was a combat technique that drew out the body's explosive strength and potential, placing the greatest emphasis on explosive damage. Thus, it inflicted tremendous harm upon the practitioner's body. When one was young and vigorous, it did not show; one merely felt strong and healthy. But once the body began to decline, those hidden injuries would erupt. In severe cases, one might even die suddenly in the prime of life.

Without nurturing methods, those who practiced National Arts often aged early and died young.

As Wu Pifu assumed the Still Tiger Crouch, he initially found it difficult to hold the stance and nearly impossible to circulate his blood and qi. But as he gradually settled into it, strength began to rise from his dantian. He had also just drunk more than half a bowl of thin porridge. Though there was little food, it could still be converted into energy for his body.

Gradually, his breathing steadied and the deathly pallor in his face slowly improved. But after standing for only a short while, his stomach began to rumble.

National Arts practitioners needed nourishment above all else. Half a bowl of thin porridge was nowhere near enough to support his recovery.

The mute nun had been watching him stand in his half-crouched stance. When she heard his stomach growl, she first froze, then a troubled expression appeared on her face. But after that hesitation, she still quietly walked toward the buildings at the far end of the courtyard.

Wu Pifu's mind was now full of distracting thoughts. The Tiger Demon Art did not require meditation; the more stray thoughts in one's mind, the better. Thus, he did not notice the mute nun leaving.

Who knew how long passed before he came back to himself from the Still Tiger Crouch. By then, the sky had darkened, and the mute nun was nowhere to be seen. Only a steamed corn bun sat on the windowsill behind him.

Wu Pifu was silent for a moment before picking up the bun and devouring it in large bites.

He did not intend to continue practicing. Too much was as bad as too little, especially when he lacked high-calorie, nutritious food. He prepared to sleep. Early tomorrow morning, he would investigate this world, confirm the dynasty and location, and see whether there had been any recent historical unrest. He also needed to see if he could get hold of some gold, silver, or money. Whether he needed medicine and food or wanted to repay some of his life-saving debt, money was essential.

Just as Wu Pifu lay down fully clothed on the broken straw mat, he suddenly heard noisy commotion from the distant courtyard.

He did not get up. Instead, he circulated his blood and qi to his ears, and the distant clamor gradually became clear.

They were men's voices. Men's voices in a nunnery at night?

Teasing, flattery, curses, feminine moans...

Wu Pifu suddenly understood what this place was.

A Closed-Door Nunnery.