Counting carefully, Zhang Xing had been in this world for four full years. Or rather, encountering spring plowing for the fifth time marked the imminent start of his fifth year since transmigrating.
People really were contrary creatures...
According to many of the high-end webnovels Zhang Xing had read before transmigrating, plenty of protagonists arrived without even a Golden Finger. They relied entirely on their own hard work, fought on with high spirits, and ultimately managed to grind the Great Dao itself into oblivion... yet here he was, greeted on arrival by True Dragons fighting, splitting mountains and parting seas. Then he had discovered his Golden Finger, the extraordinary treasure that supposedly came with transmigration. It seemed capable of letting him level up by fighting monsters, or at least giving him a good body whose basic attributes could grow without limit. Later, there even seemed to be rewards for completing achievements.
However one looked at it, this situation held tremendous promise. If he obediently followed the directions provided, he might well muddle his way into becoming a True Dragon someday, chatting and laughing with the Supreme Ones.
But he insisted on looking ahead and behind, on thinking strangely... he always felt that using the Compass too much would leave him at fate's mercy, that the thing resembling the Northern Darkness Divine Art might ultimately turn out to be the Wedding Garment Divine Art. He also kept treating the secret manuals he acquired as popular science textbooks.
He even insisted on revising them himself, on writing his own.
Zhang Xing had reflected deeply on this reaction, then promptly shifted the blame onto his circumstances... unlike those high-end transmigrators, he had not had so much as a buffer from his very first day. Forget calmly laying plans and contending with heaven and earth: