In theory!
Yin Ming could be considered an Evil God.
Weak, pitiful, helpless—and without the boundless vitality of endless Rebirth. He was the shame of the shame pillar in the Evil God world.
The Black Dragon needed only one dragon toe to crush him with ease, obtaining a Godhead without having to compete with anyone.
Unfortunately, once the ripples in space subsided, the Black Dragon had completely missed its chance.
Yin Ming vanished completely into the boundless void and appeared a thousand li away, atop a bluish stone shaped like a crouching ox.
"Caw, caw..."
Beside the stone stood a withered, crooked-necked tree.
Its dead branches twisted like evil ghosts baring their fangs and brandishing their claws. Two crows perched in the treetop, having witnessed a living person vanish and reappear, fluttered their wings and let out harsh cries.
His luck was decent. If he had teleported into midair or underground, he could only have abandoned his fleshly body and escaped.
The Pure Altar Envoy must have taken that into consideration and set the Minor Teleportation Immortal Talisman's coordinates at the boundary of the ground surface.
[Primordial Spirit Leaving the Body!]
The higher one stood, the farther one saw. Yin Ming climbed a dead tree and leaned against a thick branch.
His Primordial Spirit controlled the Corpse-Liberation Gourd as it left his body, flying steadily upward to survey his surroundings from above.
Behind him stretched endless perilous mountain ranges, from which beasts occasionally sent out deep howls. Before him, at the foot of the mountains, lay a vast plain. A majestic city stood there, surrounded here and there by small towns inhabited by humans.
"I need to find a way to settle down and survive in this world first. Then I can consider rebuilding my cultivation."
Once the Visualization Method reached the Void Lightning Realm, one's eyes could see in the darkness of night.
With his Divine Sense fully spread, he could catch every rustle of wind and grass within a kilometer. Avoiding ferocious carnivorous beasts would not be a problem.
The night caused him no trouble, and Yin Ming headed toward the settlement below the mountain.
Thud, thud...
A mountain might look close enough to run to, yet a horse could die before reaching it!
By the time Yin Ming reached a place with human habitation, the eastern sky had begun to brighten faintly. Dawn had arrived.
To ensure that the sacrifices would not embarrass themselves during the execution blood ritual, Viscount Orson had scrubbed the serfs clean inside and out three days in advance.
At that moment, Yin Ming was thirsty, hungry, and exhausted. He walked to a house and knocked on its door.
"Who is it? Knocking this early in the morning."
An aged male voice sounded from within the house.
Then came a rustling noise. A dim yellow light came on, and a watchful gaze appeared through the crack in the door before the two battered wooden doors were pushed open.
The one who opened the door was a kind-looking old man.
He was broad and powerfully built, though somewhat hunched. His graying beard was meticulously groomed, and he wore clean grayish-white clothes.
He was likely a freeman, somewhere between a noble and a serf in status.
"I'm a hunter who went into the mountains. I accidentally got separated from my companions! I'm thirsty and hungry now. Sir, could you sell me some water and food?"
Yin Ming politely bowed.
He took more than a dozen copper coins, nearly coated in patina, from the hollow soles of his shoes.
This was the entirety of the previous owner Eno's wealth, as well as the only possessions on him.
The "Pure" Law bestowed by Zhu Bajie and the jade inheritance of artifact-forging methods were not real matter that existed in the present world. They had already been stored within the Corpse-Liberation Gourd.
"What a pitiful child! In weather this cold, even kind-hearted masters would not bear to leave a dog outside. Come in and rest awhile!"
The old man brazenly examined Yin Ming.
His clothes, manner of speaking, build, complexion—he inspected him from head to toe without overlooking a single hair. The scrutiny made Yin Ming's skin crawl. Only after seemingly confirming that Yin Ming posed no threat did a warm smile appear on the old man's face, and he eagerly invited him inside.
"Then... excuse me."
Yin Ming hesitated briefly, but ultimately decided to follow the old man indoors to shelter from the wind.
Dawn was the coldest time of the day. Staying out of the wind would reduce the body's energy consumption.
It would be the joke of the century if this primitive body had survived the blood sacrifice, only to starve to death alive.
What met his eyes were old, broken tables and chairs, a brick fireplace whose firewood had burned out, a kerosene lamp hanging above the dining table, and miscellaneous household items piled haphazardly in the corners.
"Who is it? Has Little Arthur returned?" An elderly woman tottered out through the open wooden bedroom door.
The old man quickly turned to the woman who had just emerged from the inner room. "Wife, prepare some 'good' food. This poor child must be starving!"
The old woman nodded, took out flour, added water, and kneaded it into spindle-shaped loaves with pointed ends. She then put them into the fireplace to bake.
Before long, the fragrance of bread wafted from the fireplace. It was sliced and brought out on a plate.
According to the information lingering in Eno's brain cells,
the staple food of serfs was dry, hard black bread mixed with bits of gravel, bran, and husks.
White bread was only bestowed in a few slices during holidays or busy harvest seasons, when the lord happened to be in a good mood.
This family was not materially well-off, yet they were using "good" food to entertain a stranger?
Smack!
He was fucking starving to death already!
Even if it had been mixed with poison, he had to eat it. Besides, he had watched them cook the whole time, and there had been no movement suggesting they had poisoned it.
"Thank you for the hospitality!"
Yin Ming truly was starving. If he did not eat soon, this body might really starve to death.
He ate very quickly, yet did not appear the slightest bit crude.
It was not because—elegance never went out of style.
He had no idea where his next meal would come from. With hard-won food, he naturally had to extract as much nourishment as possible. Only after being thoroughly chewed could food be digested by the stomach and intestines with less energy.
"Hehe..."
Yin Ming swallowed the last slice of bread.
The old man's kindly smile vanished instantly. With a sinister sneer, he chuckled twice. "The bread you ate was kneaded with Drunken Dragon Grass juice. I bet you won't last ten seconds."
Kneaded with it?
Yin Ming: [...]
When others poisoned someone, they used poison as an additive.
But you? You just sprinkled two handfuls of flour into poison. If nothing else, you could at least use a little technology—there was no shame in that!
"We have never met before. Why are you..."
Before ten seconds had passed, the effects of the Drunken Dragon Grass had fully taken hold.
Yin Ming felt lightheaded. Every muscle in his body stiffened, while his eyelids grew as heavy as though lead had been poured into them.
After passing out, his consciousness remained awake. His nerves were simply paralyzed, leaving him unable to control his body, like being pinned down by a ghost in sleep paralysis.
"Your words and conduct really don't resemble a slave. You might have fooled someone else!"
The skin on his limbs was darker than elsewhere, his hands bore many old calluses, and healed whip marks covered his back. He was clearly an escaped slave from some territory.
In his younger years, the old man had been an elite member of a slave-catching squad.
There was naturally no reason to let a slave delivered right to his door escape.
He rummaged through the pile of clutter, found a thick hemp rope, bound Yin Ming's hands behind his back, looped it around his neck, passed it beneath his ribs, wrapped it several times, and tied a dead knot.
"Good teeth! Strong body, too! A top-notch serf! Old John will pay a good price!"
Like a livestock trader selecting an animal, the old woman carefully inspected his teeth before forcefully squeezing his biceps. She split her lips in a grin, revealing her few remaining large yellow teeth.
Yin Ming: (_).
[Primordial Spirit Leaving the Body!]
He looked down at every movement they made.
The bread might have been adulterated, but it had still replenished energy and pulled this body back from the brink of death.
He had regained his freedom for less than half a day before familiar hemp rope was once again wrapped around him. Strangely, it even gave him a homecoming-like sense of familiarity.
Still, being sold was not all that terrible. Compared to his current circumstances, it could even count as an improvement. At least he would have somewhere to eat and time to slowly familiarize himself with this world.
"..."
"With this money, little Joseph can surely become a true knight."
The old man hoisted Yin Ming onto both shoulders and walked without pause to the edge of town. He was full of vigor, nothing like an elderly man.
There stood a dilapidated little wooden house. Inside lived a lame, gaunt man—the old slave trader named John.
After some friendly negotiations, the two finally reached an agreement. The deal was made for thirty silver coins.
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