It was night.
Ping'an County, Great Wei Dynasty.
A bone-piercing chill jolted Xu Qingxiao awake.
Before he could react, all manner of information flooded into his mind.
The Great Wei Dynasty. An empress had ascended the throne.
Turmoil in court and country. Demons wreaking havoc across the world.
Immortal cultivation, forbidden arts, the Embroidered Guard.
As all this strange information poured into his mind, Xu Qingxiao sank back into unconsciousness.
He had no idea how much time passed.
Faint voices drifted in from outside the door, slowly rousing him.
"Doctor, how serious are Qingxiao's injuries?"
"Yes, Doctor. Ever since you examined him, you've just been shaking your head without saying a word. Please, tell us straight."
As those somewhat questioning voices sounded,
an elderly voice answered.
"This boy was injured by a demonic fiend. Netherworld qi has entered his body. It is a substance of extreme cold. Once inside, it damages the meridians, then congeals the blood and sends its victim to the Yellow Springs."
The elderly voice rang out.
For a moment, everyone fell silent.
"Then how much longer does Qingxiao have?"
Another voice questioned the doctor.
A moment later, the elderly voice sounded again.
"Twenty-four hours at most."
At those words, a deathly silence fell outside the door.
Inside the room,
Xu Qingxiao slowly opened his eyes.
His awareness had fully returned, and his eyes were filled with dismay.
Not merely because he had just been sentenced to death.
More importantly, he had only just transmigrated, and now he had less than twenty-four hours to live?
How could anyone not be upset?
Yes, Xu Qingxiao was a transmigrator.
From the memories in his mind, he learned that he had transmigrated into someone with the exact same name.
Someone living in a world overrun by demons.
He was a yamen runner in Ping'an County of the Great Wei Dynasty.
Only twenty years old, he had been doing reasonably well. A few more years of service would have earned him a permanent position as a constable-a proper livelihood at the government's table.
But unexpectedly, two days earlier, a vicious fugitive had fled all the way to Ping'an County.
Orders came down for a thorough search and investigation. The body's original owner had been spectacularly unlucky: he happened to discover the fugitive, only to be sent flying by a palm strike. Netherworld qi entered his body, leaving him on the verge of death.
According to the doctor, he had twenty-four hours left to live.
But Xu Qingxiao felt he might not even last that long.
An icy chill filled his body, and his blood seemed frozen, unable to circulate.
How could a start straight out of hell not leave him miserable?
"My head hurts."
"I could accept starting as a useless nobody. But starting with only twenty-four hours to live? How am I supposed to play this game?"
Xu Qingxiao felt as though even his teeth ached.
His memories also told him about his background. He was nothing more than an ordinary yamen runner, an orphan from Ping'an County. No father or mother came standard, and he had no relatives either.
If the county magistrate hadn't taken pity on him and given him a job, he would probably have spent his life doing odd jobs for others.
With a background like that, even if he knew how to save himself, he would have the will but not the means.
No money, no connections.
Calling this a start straight out of hell was no exaggeration.
Creak!
Just then, the door was pushed open.
Several figures appeared before Xu Qingxiao.
They were his colleagues from the county yamen, all runners. Leading them was Constable Chen, dressed in blue with a square cap and a saber at his waist. He was in his forties, his face covered in stubble, and at that moment he looked rather subdued.
The others were much the same.
After all, Xu Qingxiao had no more than twenty-four hours to live. Naturally, they couldn't smile, much less find anything to comfort him with.
"Qingxiao, get some rest. The doctor said it's nothing serious. Just recuperate properly, and don't tax your mind."
Constable Chen forced a smile. He truly couldn't bring himself to tell the truth, so he could only offer this comfort, hoping Xu Qingxiao wouldn't feel too burdened.
But Xu Qingxiao, now gradually coming around on the bed, gave a bitter smile.
"Lord Chen, I heard what you were saying outside just now."
Xu Qingxiao spoke with a bitter smile, sparing them the need to comfort him.
His words immediately left everyone awkward.
A deathly silence fell over the room once more.
Before Constable Chen could offer further comfort, however, Xu Qingxiao turned his gaze to the doctor.
"Doctor, is there truly no way to cure this?"
Xu Qingxiao didn't like sitting back and waiting for death. Awful as his starting circumstances were, if there was a chance, he still wanted to fight for it.
Otherwise, dying just like this would be a humiliation beyond measure.
At Xu Qingxiao's question,
the doctor, who was past sixty, paused. His gaze settled on Xu Qingxiao. After a little thought, he sighed.
"It isn't that there's no way. On the contrary, there are three. But all three are difficult to accomplish."
After deliberating, the doctor offered those words. The first half kindled hope, only for the second half to plunge them back into despair.
"Doctor, I'm going to die either way. Why not tell me? Perhaps a miracle really will happen."
Xu Qingxiao spoke again.
If there were solutions, there was a thread of hope, so he had no intention of giving up.
Seeing his persistence, the doctor sighed. He understood how strong the will to survive could be. And when he thought about it, Xu Qingxiao was only twenty, in the prime of his youth. Anyone would struggle to accept such a fate.
With that thought, the doctor continued.
"These three methods are simple to explain, but extremely difficult to carry out."
"First, you have netherworld qi inside you, a substance of utmost yin and evil. To remove it, you need something of utmost strength and yang. I know of a pill called the Vajra Glass Pill, specially made by the Thunderclap Temple. They can refine only one batch every sixty years. It has many wondrous uses, and each pill is worth a fortune. Even if the richest man in Ping'an County exhausted his entire estate, he couldn't buy a tenth of one."
He explained the first method.
Indeed, before he even finished, Xu Qingxiao knew it was hopeless.
The Thunderclap Temple was one of the three great Buddhist schools, lofty and far above him. Even if Buddhists cherished compassion and sought to deliver all living beings, they couldn't possibly give such a precious pill to a bottom-rung nobody like him.
"What about the second?"
Xu Qingxiao kept asking.
"The second is also simple. What this evil yin substance fears is pure yang qi. If you can break through to become an eighth-rank warrior within twenty-four hours, strengthening your body, invigorating your blood, and fortifying your spirit, you can expel it completely."
The doctor explained the second method.
At that, everyone present shook their heads.
If the first method was difficult, the second was even harder.
The martial path had ten ranks, each separated by a whole new heaven.
The body's original owner was still an unranked warrior. Going from unranked to eighth rank meant leaping three ranks in one breath.
Even stuffing himself with pills wouldn't accomplish that.
An eighth-rank warrior could become the chief constable of Southern Yu Prefecture. This wasn't merely impractical-it was utterly impossible, existing only in theory.
"Then what about the third?"
Xu Qingxiao still refused to give up.
He continued asking, determination appearing on his handsome face.
"The third method is a forbidden-"
The doctor began, but just as he was about to explain the third method, Constable Chen suddenly spoke.
"Doctor, some things mustn't be said carelessly."
Constable Chen seemed to know what the doctor was about to say. He immediately interrupted, preventing him from continuing and leaving everyone curious.
"Lord Chen, I was rash. I spoke some nonsense. Please forgive me."
The doctor's expression turned strained. Realizing he had misspoken, he immediately bowed to Constable Chen.
Constable Chen shook his head, glanced at Xu Qingxiao, and sighed. "I understand that you're eager to save him, Doctor Zhao, but even saving lives has its rules. Someone escort Doctor Zhao out. It's getting late."
"And brew some medicine for Qingxiao."
After ordering someone to see Doctor Zhao out, Constable Chen sat beside Xu Qingxiao's bed.
"Qingxiao, nothing in this world is absolute. I'll go speak to the county magistrate shortly. We can't get a Vajra Glass Pill, but you were injured in the line of duty. Whatever happens, getting you some blood-replenishing pills shouldn't be a problem."
"Perhaps things will take a turn for the better. Don't lose heart."
He spoke, still trying to comfort Xu Qingxiao.
But on the bed, Xu Qingxiao's thoughts were wholly focused on the third method Doctor Zhao hadn't finished explaining.
Clearly, that third method touched on something that couldn't be discussed carelessly.
Yet compared with the first two, it seemed easier.
Still, Xu Qingxiao didn't press the issue.
He knew Constable Chen's temperament. Besides, even if he kept asking, Doctor Zhao probably wouldn't dare say another word.
So Xu Qingxiao suppressed his questions, but a seed of hope had already taken root in his heart.
He couldn't simply abandon himself to despair.
Who knew whether he would transmigrate again after dying? If he didn't, wouldn't that be a disastrous loss?
Before long,
Doctor Zhao left.
Once the medicine had finished brewing, Constable Chen left with the others as well.
With everyone gone,
silence settled over the room.
The nearly empty room felt lifeless.
Apart from a dim lamp, everything was utterly still.
A little while later,
Xu Qingxiao picked up the gray bowl beside his bed, and an intensely pungent medicinal smell assaulted his nose.
Without a moment's hesitation, he drained the bowl to stay alive.
Perhaps it was because good medicine tasted bitter, or perhaps it was merely psychological.
As the decoction reached his stomach, threads of warmth spread from his abdomen, making him feel more alert.
"Urgh."
An intense bitterness flooded his taste buds. Xu Qingxiao couldn't help retching, but ultimately he held it down.
Slowly exhaling, Xu Qingxiao rose. He twisted his body and began practicing the Upright Yang Fist from his memories, doing everything he could to loosen himself up and ease the stiffness.
About an hour later,
a light rain began to fall. Xu Qingxiao had improved a little, at least no longer finding it as difficult to move as before.
Draping on a long robe and equipping himself with a short saber, he took the bamboo hat down from the wall.
He pushed open the door.
Crack!
A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky.
Deep night shrouded the heavens; the moon was bright, the stars sparse.
Fine rain fell without cease.
Xu Qingxiao left his home.
The countdown to death had twenty-two hours remaining.
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