The end of his days

Weariness seemed to seep from his bones, rapidly spreading through his entire body. Zhou Muzhi struggled to open his closed eyes.

Soreness, stiffness, grogginess, and exhaustion struck him all at once.

His first glimpse of the world was pale red. It was as though a filter had been laid over everything in sight. He stared at the bed curtains before him for a while.

Their style was archaic, their patterns unusual. He had never seen them before.

He wanted to get up, but lacked the strength. He could only close his eyes again and breathe with difficulty.

One thing was certain, though: his life in his original world had probably reached its end.

The memories now in his head told him that he was Zhou Muzhi, the fourth son of the Zhou Family in Suming County.

The memories continued, finally stopping at a crimson silhouette beneath the night sky.

This was this body's most vivid memory before its death.

Outside the room.

Footsteps approached.

He could faintly smell the distinctive smoke of incense candles.

The smell was not pungent. In fact, it carried a cloying sweetness.

Someone pushed the door open.

Three people entered and stopped beside the bed. Then came a woman's quiet sobs.

An aged voice followed, pronouncing its verdict.

"This is troublesome. A vengeful spirit is claiming his life. The fourth young master has never opened the Blood Gate, either, so his vitality cannot be retained. My apologies, but this old Daoist has not attained that level of cultivation. I cannot save him!"

The woman finally broke into audible sobs.

The owner of another set of footsteps sounded deeply distressed as he asked with a trace of hope.

"Is there truly no other way?"

The old Daoist fell silent for a long while before finally sighing.

"Alas, I will leave a stick of incense. It can sustain his life. Before it burns out, find a true expert who has crossed the threshold. Only then can he be saved."

Having said that.

Without waiting for further questions.

The old Daoist left the incense and hurried away without another word.

Time passed.

Zhou Muzhi smelled the incense candle.

The fragrance was faint, neither sandalwood nor any scent familiar from his previous life.

It still carried traces of cloying sweetness.

As he breathed in its fragrance, his body miraculously regained some strength.

When he opened his eyes again, he found that much of the pale red in his vision had faded.

Beside the exquisitely carved bedframe.

Uncle Chen, the Zhou Family's elderly steward, saw Zhou Muzhi open his eyes.

Joy immediately entered his voice. "Fourth young master, you're finally awake! The master and madam have been worried sick."

"Water..."

A hoarse voice emerged from Zhou Muzhi's mouth.

Only when a cool stream poured into his mouth did his mind fully clear.

His body remained weak, but he could barely manage to sit up now, a considerable improvement over before.

Zhou Muzhi quickly settled into his role.

The original owner's memories had not all entered his mind, only the broad outlines of his daily life.

The Zhou Family.

They ran businesses making sauces, vinegar, and fermented grain mash in Suming County.

They had some local influence. Their business had been passed down from their ancestors, and this generation had four children.

Zhou Muzhi was the youngest, and thus had a wilful, unruly disposition and a poor reputation in the county. But that had nothing to do with him now.

The crimson silhouette in his memories concealed the reason for the original owner's death.

Yet he could not recall what exactly had happened, as though the incident had been edited out.

Quickly settling into his current role, Zhou Muzhi looked at the respectful elderly steward beside him.

With his voice restored to normal, he asked, "Where are they?"

Uncle Chen naturally knew the disposition of this young scoundrel.

Without dwelling on how he had addressed them, he immediately replied, "The master and madam have gone out to the True Immortal Temple."

Their purpose, naturally, was to bring back a true expert.

Zhou Muzhi fell silent. Raising his eyes, he saw an incense candle as thick as an adult's arm in the middle of the square table. The corner of his mouth twitched.

The incense candle was entirely white, without intricate patterns, with only a soybean-sized flame at its tip.

So this was the stick of incense keeping him alive. Rather than incense, a candle was a more fitting name.

At this rate of burning, it could last quite some time.

Feeling his body recover considerably once more, Zhou Muzhi struggled to get out of bed.

He braced his palm against the edge.

He rose from the bedside.

Uncle Chen immediately stepped forward to support his arm, helping him slowly over to a chair beside the square table.

Those few steps alone brought sweat to his forehead, showing just how frail he was now, too weak to withstand a gust of wind.

Sorting through his thoughts, Zhou Muzhi prepared to speak.

But suddenly, he froze.

Astonished delight appeared in his eyes, though he instantly suppressed it.

Several lines of dazzling little text had appeared before him. Their background color was familiar: this was the little deduction cheat he had always used in his previous life-the Myriad Things Deduction Board.

It worked with all kinds of single-player leveling games. He had never expected it to follow him into this world.

[Name: Zhou Muzhi]

[Status: curse / life lock (three days)]

[Skills: none]

[Deduction points: 0]

Good news: he had a cheat!

Bad news: his stats were a blank slate...

He carefully read those four lines over and over.

Eventually, his attention settled on the curse in the status line. This line reflected his physical condition in real time.

The life-lock duration following it happened to match the burning time of the candle before him.

At least this would let him monitor his condition at any moment.

Considering his current state, calling him terminally ill would not be an exaggeration.

He could not rely too heavily on the Zhou Family, either. While he could still move, he needed to think of a solution himself.

Since it was a curse, there had to be a chain of cause and effect. He could try to work out its rules and find a way to resolve it without harm.

Of course.

Zhou Muzhi had to admit that logical deduction was certainly not his strength. The fact that he made cheats to play games offered some indication of that.

Or perhaps.

Could he open this so-called Blood Gate in an extremely short time?

After all, he had a cheat.

That technical term did not appear in Zhou Muzhi's memories.

He knew all about eating, drinking, and having fun, but when it came to serious matters, there was nothing.

He could not help turning to Uncle Chen, who had remained at his side.

"Uncle Chen, there's something I'd like to ask you about."

The elderly steward was startled.

The young master had never shown such a mild side.

Could the great terror between life and death have changed his disposition for the better?

But he was only a servant, and merely turned these thoughts over in his mind.

Outwardly, he remained the same. "Please ask, fourth young master."

Zhou Muzhi got straight to the point. "What is the Blood Gate?"

Uncle Chen pondered for a moment.

He glanced at Zhou Muzhi, seemingly surprised that the young master would ask about this after waking, but still dutifully explained.

"The Blood Gate is the beginning of the martial path established by our dynasty's founding emperor, Emperor Song Hui. After Body Condensation, one makes three attempts at Gate Knocking on one's own. Success allows one to lock in one's qi and blood, maintaining them at their peak for thirty years."

Uncle Chen then added another remark.

"But that was a long time ago. The current Song emperor values civil officials. There hasn't been an imperial decree concerning martial arts for a very long time."

Clearly, Uncle Chen was no ordinary person, either. He could offer his own insights into this matter and had explained it quite thoroughly.

Zhou Muzhi nodded and asked again, "Then how does one perform Gate Knocking?"

"Well..."

Now it was Uncle Chen's turn to struggle.

He realized what the young master wanted to do. He looked hesitant to speak, but then met the young master's bloodshot eyes.

His heart instinctively trembled.

He said quietly, "You must learn martial arts and take a master with a lineage. Martial arts are gradually declining now. Schools no longer keep their doors shut as they once did."

Zhou Muzhi nodded.

In that case.

"Then help me find someone. I need to give it a try."

Uncle Chen immediately grew anxious.

With the young master's body in this state, never mind practicing martial arts-he looked as though running a little longer would leave him without breath.

If he truly told him and something bad happened, his time with the Zhou Family would be over.

"Well... I..."

Uncle Chen hemmed and hawed for ages without producing a complete sentence.

Zhou Muzhi was indeed a young master of the Zhou Family, but he essentially had no authority. His food, drink, and everyday expenses could be provided as he requested, but important matters were not so easily settled.

Learning martial arts, for instance.

It was not something one could simply decide to do. Someone had to be found, and gifts had to be presented.

The head of the Zhou Family had to handle all of this personally. Otherwise, the other party would feel slighted. Refusing to teach was a minor matter; damaging the relationship would be serious.

Zhou Muzhi frowned, evidently aware of the difficulty. After some thought, he made another suggestion.

"What about the household guards? I remember Lao Xu being quite skilled. Call him over!"

Lao Xu.

The head of the Zhou Family's guards.

He commanded four guards and held a fairly high position in the household.

This time, Uncle Chen did not refuse and immediately went to find him.

Left alone in the room, Zhou Muzhi felt somewhat dizzy.

His scrawny chest heaved as he struggled to draw breath, his bluish face devoid of any healthy color.

He was as cold as a freshly dead corpse.

In this condition, it was no wonder the old steward had been put in such a difficult position.

He surveyed the room's layout from the corner of his eye.

In front of the square table where he sat stood a screen painted with flowers and birds, dividing the room into front and rear sections.

Looking to either side, he saw a large, closed wardrobe on his left and an open lattice shelf displaying jade pieces and curios on his right.

Sitting sideways and reclining at an angle, he faced an oval mirror set into the center of the wardrobe.

It was a clear glass mirror made of the same material as those in his previous life, reflecting his current appearance with great clarity.

A blue-tinged face and high cheekbones.

Darkened lips and long, fleshless fingers gripping the chair's armrest.

His eyes were dull, his entire figure a sorry sight, and he was making the rasping sounds heard only in the breathing of the elderly.

Before Zhou Muzhi could lament how poor his condition was, an expression of horror suddenly appeared on his face.

He glanced slightly to one side.

And saw a crimson silhouette in a corner of the mirror.

"!!?"

A ghost!

The shock in his heart was no less than the original owner's terror before death, but Zhou Muzhi ultimately suppressed it.

He noticed that the figure seemed able to remain only in the mirror, unable to come to his side.

Even after a long wait, it had not come to claim his life. That clearly did not fit the crimson figure's behavior in his memories.

No!

It wasn't that the figure was inside the mirror. It was that he was illuminated by the candle.

He looked closely.

The crimson silhouette in the mirror stood just beyond the candlelight's reach, plainly seeming to have been barred by the incense candle's light.

Within a few blinks, the crimson silhouette vanished.

But Zhou Muzhi knew the terror had not disappeared.

It had merely hidden itself, lying in wait like a venomous snake.

The moment he let his guard down, it could deal him a fatal blow.

Sounds outside the room drew closer and entered, followed by Uncle Chen's voice.

"Young master, Chief Guard Xu is here."

As he spoke,

a middle-aged man, eight feet tall, with ordinary features and a very powerful build, walked up to Zhou Muzhi.

Guard Xu carried a sheathed saber, and his eyes were bright and alert. Upon seeing Zhou Muzhi, he first bowed, then spoke.

"Steward Chen has told me all about your situation, Fourth Young Master."

Zhou Muzhi nodded.

He shifted his bottom; sitting in the same position all the time was painfully uncomfortable. Then he said,

"I want to attempt Gate Knocking."

His voice was neither loud nor soft, yet it put Lao Xu in a very difficult position.

He turned his gaze toward the old steward who had brought him, only to see Uncle Chen look away, ignoring him entirely.

His heart immediately went a little numb.

Helplessly, he said, "Fourth Young Master, Gate Knocking requires abundant qi and blood. There is indeed a Body Condensation Method, but with your body..."

He left the rest unsaid, but his meaning was perfectly clear: Zhou Muzhi could not practice it.

"Let me see it first!"

As a young tyrant, he did not need to be all that reasonable.

At the end of the day, he was the master, and he still held considerable sway over these servants.

Lao Xu watched Zhou Muzhi's expression change again and again, looking as though he would die of anger if he was not given it.

He secretly regretted it.

Had he known, he would not have come with the old steward.