Draw the Blade, Become a God

About half a li from the Chen Family home, a small river wound through the land.

Chen Shi'an walked slowly into the little grove beside the river, where a burly man with a brutish face had been waiting for some time.

"Where's Su Qingrou?" Seeing Chen Shi'an arrive alone, the man looked puzzled and angry.

He was a Squad Leader in Windrise Stronghold's City Guard Battalion. His surname was Zhao, and his given name was Desheng.

Zhao Desheng had served under Chen Shi'an's elder brother. Once his brother died, Zhao Desheng became Squad Leader.

Su Qingrou had been the daughter of an official in the Sacred Martial Dynasty. Fair-skinned and beautiful, she had been implicated when her father was convicted of a crime and exiled to the Desolate Ruins, where she eventually got together with Chen Shi'an's elder brother.

The body's original owner hadn't been the only one lusting after Su Qingrou's beauty. Zhao Desheng did too.

While Chen Shi'an's elder brother was alive, he had treated Zhao Desheng like a brother, often inviting him home for food and drinks, never imagining he was inviting a wolf into his house.

Just ten days ago, barely after Chen Shi'an's elder brother had breathed his last, Zhao Desheng had approached the original owner and offered ten taels to buy Su Qingrou and her daughter.

The original owner had been fretting over money. With such a windfall knocking at his door, he naturally wouldn't refuse. He agreed on the spot and even accepted three taels as a deposit.

"Brother Zhao, I'm sorry for the trouble, but you'll have to wait a few more days." Chen Shi'an wore an apologetic, fawning expression.

Zhao Desheng was big, brawny, and powerful. Although he wasn't a Ranked Martial Artist, anyone who could become a Squad Leader in Windrise Stronghold's City Guard Battalion surely had some fighting ability.

In his previous life, Chen Shi'an had been a soldier stationed on the frontier, proficient in loaded marches, mountain cross-country runs, grappling, combat, bayonet drills... Yet now his limbs were thin and so frail that a breeze could knock him over. He couldn't even drag Su Qingrou along. All his combat instincts were wasted.

Fight him? His chances of losing were eleven out of ten.

Return the deposit and cancel the deal?

That wouldn't work either. The original owner had already gambled away every last bit of the deposit.

So he couldn't deal with Zhao Desheng today. All he wanted was to placate him for now and buy some time.

"Wait longer?"

Zhao Desheng's brows shot up. "Chen Shi'an, we agreed on ten days. You've already taken the deposit, and now you're telling me to wait again? Are you playing me for a monkey?"

Chen Shi'an smiled ingratiatingly and hurriedly waved his hands. "Brother Zhao, who in Windrise Stronghold hasn't heard of you? Even if I had a hundred times the nerve, I wouldn't dare play you."

Zhao Desheng snorted. "Don't tell me you can't bear to part with Su Qingrou and want to keep her for yourself?"

A chill settled in Chen Shi'an's heart, but his smile never faded. "My elder brother's bones aren't even cold yet. I may be a bastard, but I wouldn't do something so bestial.

"Besides, I'm counting on your money to win back my losses at the Gambling House.

"The reason I'm asking you to wait a few more days is that, while this is the Desolate Ruins and we don't have many rules, people still observe the seven-day mourning rites. My brother's first seventh-day rite has only just passed. There ought to be a woman before his spirit tablet to light incense and burn paper offerings..."

"Are you saying you want to finish all seven rites?" Zhao Desheng's face darkened, and a cold gleam flashed in his narrowed eyes.

Chen Shi'an waved his hands repeatedly. "It won't take that long. Just until the second seventh-day rite.

"Today's already the third day of the second week. You only need to wait another four days. I'll definitely bring them to you, and I guarantee they'll be fresh and clean."

Seeing that Zhao Desheng's brow was still tightly furrowed, he hastily added, "Brother Zhao, making you wait four extra days is my fault. I'm willing to compensate you. We agreed on ten taels, but I'll take only nine. How's that?"

At that, Zhao Desheng's expression eased slightly, though his tone remained hostile. "Chen Shi'an, seeing as we do have a bit of a relationship, I'll give you another four days.

"If you don't hand Su Qingrou over to me in four days, don't blame me for turning on you without mercy!"

"Thank you for understanding, Brother Zhao." Chen Shi'an bowed with an ingratiating smile, thanking him repeatedly.

Zhao Desheng gave a cold snort and strode out of the grove.

As Zhao Desheng's retreating figure grew more distant, the smile gradually disappeared from Chen Shi'an's face.

The original owner had been no good, and Zhao Desheng was no better.

At the same time, he had begun to suspect that his elder brother's injury six months ago might not have been an accident.

After his brother died, Zhao Desheng had become a Squad Leader in the City Guard Battalion. Now he was after Su Qingrou as well, making him the one who stood to gain the most.

If his suspicions were correct, Zhao Desheng was a prime suspect.

But this wasn't the time to consider that question.

The most pressing matter was getting some silver.

Su Qingrou and her daughter were rather surprised to see Chen Shi'an return so soon.

In the past, whenever Chen Shi'an went out gambling, whether he won or lost, he always stayed out until it was completely dark and came home reeking of alcohol.

"Brother-in-law, did you finish what you needed to do?" Su Qingrou asked cautiously.

Chen Shi'an nodded and strode back to his room.

Chen Tiantian went to Su Qingrou's side and snorted softly. "Mother, he must have failed to borrow gambling money at the Gambling House and slunk back with his tail between his legs."

Su Qingrou took her daughter by the hand. "Tiantian, don't say things like that. Haven't you noticed your uncle seems a little different today?"

Chen Tiantian immediately retorted, "Different how? Just a moment ago, he nearly threw us out of the Chen Family home.

"Mountains and rivers may change, but a person's nature never does. A dog will never stop eating shit..."

Chen Shi'an returned to his room and sat cross-legged on the bed.

In his previous life, he had developed a habit of calming himself through seated meditation whenever he encountered a difficult problem.

Great challenges called for a tranquil heart.

The instant he closed his eyes, shock swept across his face.

Why?

The moment he shut his eyes, he discovered a stone stele had actually appeared in his mind.

It was blue-green, half a person's height, and half a foot thick.

A line of large seal-script characters ran down its center: I have returned to my homeland. Draw the blade, become a god!

It's that stele! It actually traveled to this world with me.

I have returned to my homeland.

Could this stone stele have originally belonged to this world?

Chen Shi'an's memories immediately carried him back to his previous life:

During a frontier patrol, he had discovered a blue-green stone stele in some nameless ruins. Its shape and appearance were identical to the one in his mind, but it had been only palm-sized.

There had been words on it too, also in seal script, but they had read: Send me back to my homeland.

While serving in the military, Chen Shi'an's greatest hobby outside training had been reading. Tang poetry, Song verse, astronomy, geography... His reading ranged widely.

His guiding principle was simple: enjoy reading without seeking exhaustive understanding.

After reading enough miscellaneous books, that knowledge occasionally came in handy.

He had been able to recognize every seal-script character on the stele and judge that the inscription was quite old.

The stele was also just the right size to make a pleasant object to turn over in his hand.

So he had kept the little stone stele.

Whenever he had free time, he would take it out and fiddle with it.

But during one troop rotation, he had left the little stele behind at camp.

He had never expected it to appear in his mind now.

Although the stele had grown larger and its inscription had changed, he had handled it for three whole years and recognized it at a glance.

Was this stone stele the reason I traveled to another world?

Draw the blade, become a god-what does that mean?

Filled with questions, Chen Shi'an focused his attention on the stele.

Suddenly, the stele in his mind trembled slightly, and the words upon it changed:

Draw the blade three hundred thousand times to become a Ranked Martial Artist!

A Ranked Martial Artist? A shudder ran through Chen Shi'an.

In this world, martial artists' cultivation levels were divided into the lower nine grades and the upper three realms.

The lower nine grades ran from first grade to ninth, in ascending order.

The upper three realms were the Wind Riding Realm, the Void Separation Realm, and the Unfettered Realm.

Even a First-Rank Martial Artist, the lowest of Ranked Martial Artists, was an exalted existence in the eyes of ordinary people.

Windrise Stronghold had remained standing in the Desolate Ruins precisely because several Ranked Martial Artists supported it.

Moreover, their grades weren't particularly high. The strongest was only third grade.

For martial cultivation, wealth, companions, methods, and a suitable location were all indispensable.

Countless people chose cultivation to rise above the crowd, but fewer than one in ten thousand ultimately attained a rank.

Chen Shi'an's elder brother had tried every possible approach, endured untold hardships, and cultivated diligently for over thirty years, yet he had always lingered outside the threshold, unable to become a Ranked Martial Artist.

Drawing the blade three hundred thousand times would make me a Ranked Martial Artist?

Chen Shi'an immediately grew excited.

If he could become a Ranked Martial Artist, the predicament before him would come apart like bamboo beneath a sharp blade.

Whether this was true or not, he had to clutch at this lifesaving straw.

He hurried off the bed, left his room, and rushed to find Su Qingrou.

"Sister-in-law, where's the saber? Where's my brother's saber?"

Su Qingrou froze for a moment, then looked alarmed. "Brother-in-law, what happened? Has someone been bullying you?

"Please don't act rashly. Your brother is gone now. If you cause trouble, there'll be no one left to stand up for you."

Chen Shi'an smiled. "Don't worry, Sister-in-law. I'm not going to fight anyone to the death. I'm going to start practicing saber techniques and cultivating today."

"You're going to cultivate?"

Su Qingrou blinked, her face full of disbelief.

In the past, her husband had tried more than once to get Chen Shi'an to cultivate.

But Chen Shi'an couldn't endure that hardship. Whenever her husband wasn't free to keep an eye on him, he ran off to fool around in the Stronghold.

Could her husband's death have changed her brother-in-law's nature and made him grow up?

After a moment's hesitation, Su Qingrou went inside, fetched a Horizontal Saber, and handed it to Chen Shi'an.

It was the standard-issue saber of Windrise Stronghold's City Guard Battalion, with a straight body and narrow blade about two and a half feet long.

Six months ago, when his elder brother had been bedridden recovering from his injury, this Horizontal Saber had been tossed into a corner. A layer of dust had already accumulated on its sheath and hilt.

Chen Shi'an wiped away the dust with a few sweeps of his sleeve and eagerly drew the saber.

With a metallic ring, the sharp blade slid free, flashing with cold light.

With a stir of his will, his awareness immediately entered his mind.

He saw that the words on the Mysterious Stone Stele had changed again: Blade drawn once.

Greatly encouraged, Chen Shi'an hurriedly sheathed the saber.

He quickly drew it again, then sheathed it, repeating the cycle like a robot.

Su Qingrou stood rooted to the spot.

This counted as practicing saber techniques and cultivating?