Don't You Dare Be Polite to Me!

[Latest bulletin] Tomorrow was 5/15, Qidian's anniversary and the day with the most giveaways. Besides gift packs and book bags, the "5/15 Red Envelope Frenzy" was not to be missed. Who didn't grab a red envelope when they could? Set your alarms! "The General's Temple hadn't made a move in twenty years, but when it finally did, it still had all the flair of the old days!"

Tang Changsheng knew nothing of those exclamations. In fact, by then, he had vanished from the General's Temple without a trace!

He had only just woken up. Utterly bewildered, he asked, tongue-tied, "Where am I?"

It was a room, and it looked exceedingly old...

Even the General's Temple had undergone some modernization, with running water, electricity, air-conditioning, and internet access...

Yet this was an antique-style room in an abbey. Its great canopy of thin white gauze had been drawn back, and large, dark-blue bricks covered the floor, fitted without the slightest gap, polished and bright. It was an imposing sight.

A huge character for "Dao" adorned the whitewashed wall opposite him, with a sitting cushion beneath it.

The room was simply furnished, but countless details revealed astonishing luxury.

The great wooden bed he lay on, for instance, was unmistakably made of fine sandalwood. It was a magnificent enclosed bed.

Its platform extended two feet beyond the front of the bed. Posts stood at its four corners, joined by wooden railings; some such beds even had windows fitted on either side. Together, these features formed a corridor before the bed. Small as it was, a person could step inside as though entering a room. A footstool stood in the center, while little tables and stools could be placed along either side to hold sundries.

Cranes, auspicious clouds, and other designs were carved into the railings, posts, and every tiny detail. The workmanship was exquisite.

That bed alone could practically be called a work of art. Put it up for auction at Sotheby's, and it would fetch at least tens of millions.

And if it had a few years behind it—if it was an antique—the price could easily somersault several times higher.

But apart from the General's Temple, what household would bear to use a treasure like this as actual furniture?

As he puzzled over it, his hand moved on instinct. Feeling the Eight Trigrams Mirror clutched in his fingers, he could not help breathing a sigh of relief.

Just then, the door creaked open. In walked a Daoist with two young attendants, swinging his wide sleeves. He wore a purple robe so flamboyant and eye-catching it was almost outrageous.

It was nothing like the subdued dark blue of Tang Changsheng's own robe. The details of the man's cap and dress differed in many other ways, too...

Before Tang Changsheng could make sense of the situation, the man strode over and seized his arm with great warmth. "Fellow Daoist, you're finally awake! Excellent, excellent. Green Dragon, Bright Moon, hurry and attend to him. That green-rice porridge must be getting cold!"

Green Dragon and Bright Moon? A chill ran through Tang Changsheng.

The two young attendants came over to help feed him the porridge.

By now, Tang Changsheng felt more and more strongly that something was wrong, though he could not yet say what it was.

The purple-robed Daoist, on the other hand, was all warmth and did not stop talking. "...One look at your clothes told me you'd come from far away. Stay at Primordial Yang Abbey for now, and don't you dare be polite with us. If you stand on ceremony, you're looking down on me..."

"Er...?" Tang Changsheng suddenly did not know whether to laugh or cry. I need to know who you are first!

He asked, "May I ask your name and Daoist title, fellow Daoist?"

The man slapped his forehead, only then remembering that he had not introduced himself. "This humble Daoist is Xin Chengying, a disciple of True Person Lü Yuanhua. This is Primordial Yang Abbey, where my master and I reside.

"As for you, we found you unconscious outside the city and brought you here!"

Tang Changsheng recalled the vortex that had appeared in the Eight Trigrams Mirror at the end, with its seemingly irresistible pull.

It really had sucked him in and churned him around. No wonder he had passed out in the end. At Xin Chengying's words, he hurried to sit up. "Thank you for saving my life, fellow Daoist!"

"No need to thank me, no need... Just lie down, fellow Daoist. It's quite all right..."

Xin Chengying said this as Tang Changsheng struggled to sit up.

Tang Changsheng shook his head. He had been awake for a little while now, and after a couple of mouthfuls of porridge, strength seemed to flow back into his body. He no longer felt nearly as miserable as before...

The porridge itself seemed extraordinary. After he swallowed it, warmth appeared to rise from his core.

At that moment, whichever of the attendants it was—Green Dragon or Bright Moon—lifted another spoonful to Tang Changsheng's lips.

This time, Tang Changsheng paid attention. Sure enough, the light, smooth porridge carried a faint medicinal taste. As it reached his stomach, threads of heat seemed to bloom within him.

"A century-old ginseng root went into this!" he blurted.

Xin Chengying clapped and laughed. "You have a keen eye, fellow Daoist! My master said you'd picked up some ghostly energy and damaged your vitality a little. Fortunately, you practice an orthodox Daoist art and have a solid foundation. A few days of recuperation should set you right!"

Tang Changsheng was both stunned and thrilled.

Century-old ginseng was no farm-grown root selling for a few coins a pound. It was something money could scarcely buy. Even when one was available, it belonged at an auction.

It was no exaggeration to say that a single root could easily be worth millions.

Yet this man had casually cooked it into porridge for him.

And that was not all. Tang Changsheng did not know how accomplished the so-called True Person Lü Yuanhua was, but his eye was unquestionably sharp: he had seen Tang Changsheng's condition with perfect clarity...

It was true. Though Tang Changsheng had recently damaged his vitality by nurturing a ghost within his own body, the foundation built through more than ten years of cultivation remained. It was hardly a poor foundation...

Only now did the unease he had sensed since waking grow unmistakably strong.

He could not help asking, "Fellow Daoist, may I ask where exactly I am?"

"Oh, I told you already. This is Primordial Yang Abbey, in Suxu City of the Wu Marquisate... My master is His Highness the Marquis of Wu's state preceptor..."

Boom. Xin Chengying had not spoken loudly, but to Tang Changsheng, his words landed like a bomb.

At last, he knew where that mounting sense of wrongness had come from!

Though he had not taken a single step outside this room, the small details that differed between two utterly separate worlds had been piling up...

Hell, I've crossed into another world!

So this so-called key actually lets people cross between worlds!

Which dynasty is this—Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, or Qing? What prefecture and county am I in?

Where is Suxu City in the Wu Marquisate? What world is this?

For a moment, Tang Changsheng was so shocked that his mind went almost blank...

Night fell. The cool breeze was like water, and the stars gathered thick overhead.

One look at that sky full of brilliant stars left almost no room to doubt it: he had crossed into another world.

P.S. Red envelopes were raining down on Qidian for 5/15! Starting at noon, there was a new round to grab every hour. Whether you caught one of that great wave of 5/15 red envelopes was up to luck. Go grab them, then use the Qidian coins you win to keep subscribing to my chapters!